# Ice, Luck and Honour



## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 24, 2002)

Ice, Luck and Honour is a campaign following the travels and adventures of three heroes as they are pulled into an age of conflict. As prophecies align and gods rise and fall, a staff with the power to imprison deities finds its way into the hands of our heroes. They must race against time to unlock the secrets of the staff before it is used as a weapon to gain ascension.

- - - - - - - - - -

The characters who have fought, cried, laughed, loved and died in the ensuing accounts are:

*Torious Mangrane*
An Aasimar cleric of Tyr from Raven's Bluff, dedicated to the pursual of justice in the name of his god. He suspects he is a direct descendant of Tyr (grand illusions, I know) thanks to his Aasimar heritage and human mother. He has a scar running the length of each cheek that opens and glows with light (as the Aasimar ability).

*Thalin Vorpsen*
A distant and reserved human mage from the Great Glacier. His father, Niall Vorspen, is an ArchMage warden of the great glacier and has kept Thalin under his constant surveillance since birth, but now Thalin's time has come to leave his fathers protection and travel South. His spells are predominantly ice based.

*Milo Whittersbane*
A halfling thief/sorcerer from Marsember. A playful thief with an unhealthy eye for other peoples property. He has left his mothers dockside home to gather money together to prevent her land being taken away from her. 

- - - - - - - - - -

The campaign is set in the Forgotten Realms but the lands and history were changed slightly to keep my players on their feet from the word go. The story begins in early winter, 1372.

As a precursor to the campaign, I wrote three very short stories with the help of the player in question. These were then handed out to the other players, so they got some idea of the character they would be playing alongside. If you want to skip ahead to the body of the Story Hour then go for it, the intro's aren't essential.

Feedback on anything and everything would be greatly appreciated, I would love to know what people think of the ideas thrown into this campaign (and there are a hell of a lot).

I'd like to mention this, just as a safety thing really, but the stories themselves are my own copyright (Thomas Hughes, June 2002). However, feel free to take ideas as you like (as if i need to even say that). If there are stats for bad guys or anything you'd like, then just say and I'll post it on.

Anyway, without further ado, here are the character stories and after that will be Chapter 1: Fateful Beginnings. 

I hope you enjoy Ice, Luck and Honour.

Spider.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 24, 2002)

*Torious Mangrane*

TORIOUS

“We don’t serve your kind” growled the stout bar keep, 
“Leave before I make Limmet hurt ya”

Torious looked to where the barkeep nodded his greasy curls. A large man with a scar running the length of his arm was slouching in the corner, a young maiden draped over his knee. Torious grimaced and looked back at the squinted eyes of the barkeep.

“I am sorry to have offended you.” Torious nodded curtly and turned to go. He knew his birth scars were starting to flare and it never boded well in these situations. He headed for the door. The inns occupants seemed to watch him as he walked the length of the rotten floor. Limmet laughed in the corner and yelled a curse which became too slurred to understand. Even so the bar picked the chant up and quickly the silence was filled with jeering and screaming at the man who quickly exited.

Torious stepped into the night air of Darmshall city. The jeering faded almost as soon as he turned out of sight. It was nothing new to Torious, for almost a year now he had been hounded from tavern to tavern, village to village and realm to realm. 

- - - - - - - - - -

The Gate warden that held the pass between the icy lands of Damara and Vaasa had almost not admitted the tall, well built man who stood alone before the towering gates.
“Who goes there?” had echoed from above, “Friend or foe?”
Torious almost turned back then. But this was the way shown in his dreams.
“I am Torious Mangrane. Traveller to the city of Darmshall, I request passage through Bloodstone Pass and a nights stop at the Bloodstone Inn.”
“I can let ya through but you ‘ave to ask at the inn for a room” the watchman paused, “what are ya… human or otherwise?”

Torious had this question any number of times each day. His beauty had been unparalleled in his travels so far, the cascade of golden hair rolled down his face, framing the features which drew both friendly and jealous attention. Each cheekbone bore a deep white scar that ran for no more than three inches towards his jaw, from just beneath his eyes. They had been present from birth and no form of healing, magic or otherwise, would heal the scars. They enhanced his features and pronounced his gold flecked eyes.
“I am a traveller. That is all”
“Aye, you said that.” said the watchman suspiciously, “Answer my question or you will have no passage to Vaasa”

Torious looked up at the guard and tensed the skin around the scars, his heavy hood fell away and he felt the scars surge with energy. The gate and its towers ahead of him lit up with the pulsating yellow light that poured from the scars. 
“I am Aasimar, descendant of Tyr the Even-Handed.” Torious brandished a wooden symbol of a warhammer-on-scales in his right hand, “I speak his words and wield his justice. Open the gates lest you be judged and face his holy wrath.” 
A thunderous grinding noise heralded the opening of the Bloodstone gates.

Torious walked into the small village that lay beyond. The gates echoed shut behind him and the guard yelled “all is clear”. The night air highlighted the rough edges of the buildings that lay around him and rose up the chasm faces. Stone houses seemed to jut from the walls of the slate walls as if built straight from them. Torious did not doubt they would be. Three dwarves crossed his path, their beards braided with some unknown monstrous teeth as pins. They scowled at Torious as he stopped to let them wander past, they headed for one of the only lights in the stone village, the inn; The Gorges Gift.

The nights stay was pleasant and Torious was not bothered by the locals. Indeed, it seemed every one of the occupants was a traveller and had their own business and reasons to keep to themselves. The next day he travelled before dawn to ensure he was alone for prayer to Tyr. That was a ten day hence.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious sat at the base of the great tree in the market square of Darmshall. It's crooked fingers long since dead to the ferocious storms that would sometimes rack the city for days on end, bringing the ice blizzards from the north. And worse. The wind whipped at Torious’ cloak as he sat silent in the night air. The city was quiet around him. He had only seen three other persons, a human man and a half-orc couple since exiting the inn. 

His sword scabbard lay across his knees, its leather sheath cracked and brittle from the cold. He brushed a hand down it. A new sword is needed. And more. He looked down at the rusting scale mail that hung too large for him. A golden strand of hair whipped across his face and crossed and eye. Torious blinked and pulled the strand free, pushing it behind his ear.

A sound, from the alley ahead. He kept his hand at his ear, holding the cloak hood back from his keen ears. His eyes scanned the dark. Torious knew his eyes were better in the dark than any humans and for this he could see Limmet heading into the alleyway. Staggering against the wall? No. Someone else was there. The woman from before. Torious didn’t move for a moment then a muffled shriek came from the woman and the Aasimar leapt to his feet and unsheathed his Longsword, Justicar. His steps clattered off the frosted flagstones as he headed for Limmet and the woman. Torious broke into a run as another, more painful shriek came from the alleyway.

“Stop it!” screamed a female voice, just ahead of Torious.
“Shut up.” A small sound of fist on flesh then a whimper.
Torious turned the corner to see Limmet crouched over the fallen woman. Her frail body was lain on the ground, her face was half covered in mud but a bruise could be seen against the moonlight, a deep purple in the blues, blacks and whites that covered the alleyway. Limmet looked up and took a step backwards, seeing the sword in Torious’ hand. Recognition passed over his ugly face.
“You?” he slurred into a laugh, “The scar boy?”
Limmet drew a shortsword from a scabbard at his waist. He was built a deal taller than Torious but not much more muscle. He grinned again, yellow teeth protruding into the night air
“Think you can beat me pretty boy? Take off your scales”

Torious thought about this. His knowledge of Limmet was limited to the previous hour but he assumed as soon as he began to de-scale, Limmet would attack. Torious passed this out of his mind. Looking down at the body of the woman, she groaned once then heaved. Her stomach emptied onto her torn dress and into the frozen mud. Limmet was quicker than Torious would have thought. The shortsword flickered forward, clattering against Justicar as Torious defended himself, he set his back foot in the mud, determined to stay his ground against Limmet. Another sword strike whirled at his stomach then his face, they were both turned aside. Torious made no move to attack.
“Tyr has seen the darkness that sits in you.” Torious guided Limmet’s side slash into a wall and took a step forwards, connecting his gauntleted left fist to the rogues face with a gruesome chime of gauntlet on skin.
“His eyes see through mine” Torious grasped Limmet’s sword hand in his mailed fist. 
“His hand guides my own” Torious clenched down on Limmet’s hand. Limmet screamed, a spatter of blood and spit sprayed from his bloodied face onto Torious’ chestplate. Torious let the sword hand drop and the short sword clattered into the mud. Limmet backed away, but the Aasimar was faster.
“I speak his words” Justicar drove quickly upwards in a smooth arc “and wield his justice” the sword slid easily into Limmet’s chest. 
Limmet slid from the blade with a soft sigh. His eyes darted everywhere all at once, taking in the bloodied blade, the dark alley way, the bruised body of the woman and the twin glowing scars that gave form to the silhouette standing over him. 

An hour later Torious stoked the small fire infront of him, his possessions lay on the ground to his left and to his right lay Justicar. He swept the cloth over the spattered scale mail again, trying to work the blood from underneath the individual plates. After dispensing a final blow to Limmet he had taken the girl to the city temple of Oghma. Father Rellin, a devout man with piercing eyes, had thanked him then suggested he stay away from the city for a number of nights and wait for the next caravan party leading West. Torious did not argue. No doubt Limmet would be found soon after dawn and his body reported to Noristour, the city mage who seemed to be a law enforcement in himself. But this for the moment did not worry Torious, his thoughts lay simply with Tyr and the thanks he would have for the justice dutifully dispensed to Limmet. 

With a sigh Torious rolled onto his back and watched the stars sparkle overhead. Counting the different gods and deeds that lay up there for all to read. 
Shall I serve Tyr highly enough to grant me a place in the stars? Or am I to wander till my limbs grow tired and I lay on the grass, never to move again?
Torious glided to sleep watching a dim green star move slowly between the constellations of The Great Justice, a secondary constellation of Tyr, and The Furnace, a curled formation granted to Kossuth, the Lord of Flames.
Stars should not move.
Yet sleep was too close and Torious’ eyes closed to await the dawn light.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 24, 2002)

*Thalin Vorspen*

THALIN

White. White daggers of wind and ice cut and thrust at the wolf pelt cloak of Thalin Vorspen, the tendrils of the ragged fur lashed and snapped at the unrelenting blizzard of cold on all sides. A grimace played across the face wrapped beneath layers of fur and leather as the wind buffeted his body again, forcing a halt. 

He knew Dariel was having no easier a time high above him. Perhaps he had flown on ahead. The higher plains of the Great Glacier lay behind him, leagues beyond that stretched the frozen plateau which housed the castle of Niall Vorspen, Archmage of the Glacier and father to Thalin. 

- - - - - - - - - -

At first Thalin believed the weather would hold as it was, the darkness of the night sky and the silver darts of stars shimmered off of ice strewn lakes, bathing the castle in deeper shadows that swayed and broke at every step further from the towering walls. The ice was already melting on the outer defences and by morning his father would be standing on the balcony of Frostpike, the tallest and greatest of the eight towers that thrust towards the sky from the safety of the inner walls. 

Strengthening the outer walls and perimeter chasm was of paramount importance to the Archmage and the distraction would help Thalin put a greater distance between him and his father before his plans were discovered. 

His father had warned Thalin of the heart lands and the corruption that lay within many times, earlier that night had been one such event, yet its ending had been significantly different to the others.
“Only death and war lies in the south,” said Niall. “It is a fools purchase to travel there” 
Niall did not warrant Thalin a glance as he sat at his study desk pouring over a heavy, leather bound book. As dusk began to set outside, the ring of candelabra surrounding his father caused shadows to dance and slide across Thalin and his father alike. 

Thalin usually held his tongue in these situations but the longing made him brave and his days were not meant to be lasted out entombed in a castle of ice.
“Foolishness is nothing to do with this. You travelled when you were young, as shall I.” said Thalin, his voice shaky.
“My travels were needed. Once you are needed in the heart lands then you may go.” He went on, his voice elevating to a harsher tone. “There are more than enough heroes wandering these days, your efforts are better spent here.”
“You are wrong father. My days are not meant for this.”

Thalin motioned to the surrounding walls, the sheen of frozen ice that covered the stone work, the rolls of scrolls that littered a nearby table, the books stacked in the corner; somehow immune to the creeping ice. Thalin shook his head slowly. Niall marked his place then looked directly into Thalins eyes as if seeing through him for a deeper truth that hid just beneath the furs and the skin and the bone. If he found it, he did not say.
“You stay.” His voice did not ask for a reply, “That is final”

Thalin turned and walked slowly out, wishing not to show his father the frustration and defeat that now lined his face and guided his walk. I am not yours to command father, I am meant for greater things.
Thalin quickly paced through the cold and labyrinthine tunnels that curled and branched through the castle like hollow veins inside a frozen corpse. Thalin found Dariel perched on the edge of a table in the meat room, his beak ripping slowly at a side of meat. The snow owl familiar turned as Thalin entered, Dariel’s voice echoed into his head. Thalin knew he was concerned, not wanting Thalin to make a rash decision.

Thalin did not respond. Dariel was not one to flinch from the truth and Thalin knew what his companion intoned was indeed true. Thalin carried on through the halls. Dariel followed at a range, swooping from one unlit sconce to the next. 

His room was sparse and nothing more than a table and bed of furs covered the space, but nothing more was needed, or so his father said. Thalin picked up his meagre spellbook before heading back out the door. Dariel sat on the sconce nearest the room and said nothing as Thalin passed beneath him. The walk to the storage room took him a level deeper and almost directly beneath his fathers study. 

The air was dryer and colder down here. Thalin clasped the wolf skin cloak around his neck and carefully placed a shoulder of dry meat and half broken loaf of black bread into a slim bearskin pack, his eyes fell upon the scabbard of Shard, his fathers scimitar which lay on the storeroom desk. He stepped quietly over and lifted the sword and scabbard in his left hand whilst drawing the blade out with his right. 

Dariel silently flew into the room and landed on a stack of boxes, his eyes studying the measured movements of Thalin. A dull light played off the metal and twice flashed into his eyes as the torch light caught the razor edge. A pulse of regret and fear rolled through him. I could still stop this foolishness. But a stronger voice rose within him and Shard was quickly sheathed and tied to his back in a diagonal arc that allowed the right hand to draw it over the shoulder in a swift movement. His training was sparse with the scimitar but Shard was sharp and well balanced, a gilded icicle patterned into the blade and scabbard alike. 

Thalin looked once more at the storage and mentally checked through what he needed, the furs that covered him should keep the winds at bay, although nothing could help him if he were caught in a blizzard.

- - - - - - - - - -

The winds ripped past again. Spears of cold lanced through any gaps with unrelenting malice, Thalin pulled the cloak tighter across his chest as another shiver rattled across him. His strides began to slow, the wind seemed to retreat for a second then hammered back with a greater force than before. Thalin felt himself heaved to the left then almost forced backwards as the white pressed into him. His fathers words played through his head, louder and louder. "It is a fools purchase to travel there". 

The words added to the chorus of the blizzard, forming a howling, screaming chorus as his progress was once again buffeted to a halt. A fools purchase. He knew Dariel had flown on ahead to escape the worst of the blizzard. He resumed his movement, the blizzard eased for another moment and Thalin readied for another blast. Boots and ice seemed to clasp together to add another ten pounds of weight to each footstep and with a sickening cold rush he realised he would not move further. 

Thalin looked ahead desperately, the ice and wind cutting like knives across his frozen features and collecting in the crusted mane of his beard. Through the torrent of white was a series of low slung buildings ahead, and further in a temple steeple that was broken half way up. Palishuk, Thalin knew at once. He tensed again as the wind smashed into him, his guard came down as the ice cut into his exposed flesh and Thalin fell backwards. Fools Purchase. The snow revolved above him, all the warmth was snapped from his body as he collapsed into the drift behind him. He raised a hand to the whirling flakes of ice above him and grasped for the sky. 

The sky grasped back. Six huge hands wrapped around his arms and legs and wrenched him free of the snow. Grunts echoed through the white but were quickly carried away by the winds, the three figures around him hauled his body into the frozen streets of Palishuk and stood him against a beaten and abandoned house. Thalin held onto the wall to prevent from falling. The wall acted as a windbreak and the blizzard still howled and screamed behind him but no more knives. Thalin was thankful for that.

He looked up at the faces of his rescuers. Their eyes were close together and noses squashed inwards, green skin hung loosely on their faces, as if the person who made them had no conviction for a serious finish. Half-Orcs grimaced Thalin. One of the half-orcs leant forward and sniffed at Thalins cloak hood, then yanked it back. The half-orc laughed something in a guttural tongue but Thalin did not hear, the blizzard carried it away. The half-orc withdrew a long black dagger and pointed it at him. His green skin broke into a yellow toothed grin as he took a step towards Thalin.

Only death and war lies in the South.

With a grim face, Thalin motioned through the air with his hands, drawing arcane power forth. This would not be pretty, thought Thalin, as the incantation he needed spilled forth from his mouth...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 24, 2002)

*Milo Whittersbane*

MILO

Milo Whittersbane pushed the door open easily, the ornate handle came away in his hand in a shower of rust. His eyes quickly adjusted to the half light of the small chamber. On the opposite wall was an ancient portrait of some dwarf, his eyes played over the cracked surface of the picture before landing onto a desk in the centre of the room. 

The broken handle clattered to the floor as Milo saw what lay on the desk, without a moments thought he crouched into the room with cat like dexterity and clambered onto the chair that sat near the desk. The chair was built for a dwarf and Milo had no trouble hopping onto it in one bound and then in another he was standing on the desk, in front of him lay a gem the size of his fist. 

The surfaces of the gem were beautiful to look at, their colours shifted and twisted with each step that Milo took, on the interior of the gem was what could only be a small phantom image of a hammer. Milo wondered if this was worth a lot. Probably. He edged around the gem with accentuated stealth, knowing the dwarven halls he now prowled in had traps to keep would be trespassers at bay. But Milo knew this and had taken precautions, his lock pick bag lay on the ground by the door, two slender picks still sticking out of the rusted key hole. 

The entrance was the hardest and he’d worked there for almost and hour before the door finally sprung loose. But what lay on the desk would be worth his time. He grinned in satisfaction, the dwarves no doubt thought they would be robbed by humans, not by a halfling. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a dirty leather rag and draped it onto the gem. He reached forward with both hands to grasp it. 

- - - - - - - - - -

When Milo had explained to his estranged mother about the haunted dwarven mines that contained unheard of treasures she had been sitting in the chicken hutch, pulling eggs from the nests that sat in a semi circle around her.
“But why Milo? You don’t need any treasure” 
Mrs. Whittersbane seemed to pause for a moment, as she often did when talking to her carefree son so that she would not say something that would excite him further.
“We are quite happy here, me and your father would like you to take over the farm when we… uh…”
“I know, but there is so much treasure and we could buy so many chickens” Milo continued, almost breathless, “we could make some money from it and get a house outside of the water”

Milo looked around at the reeds that poked between the jetty planks, he shifted his meagre weight to one of his feet, the wood under his feet moaned back in argument. His shoulders fell as he looked further out at the trees that branched up from the murky water and reached for the birds above. I should be up there, flying with the birds and dragons, not kept down here with the chickens. He looked back at his mother as he heard a small crash. He was surprised to see her head in her hands and little sobs bursting out, the egg basket spilled out at her feet. 

Quickly hopping over to her, the planks shouting their complaints as he ran over them. He ducked into the hutch, pushing the chickens out the way, they clucked and strutted out onto the jetty. Milo crouched down beside his mother and put his arm around her, she was a little smaller than he was. Milo himself only reached up to the belt line of a human guard, and he was fully grown. 

She cried into her hands, Milo had seen his mother cry once or twice before but he was too young and he hadn’t seen her like this for about ten years. He looked down at the fallen basket, all of the eggs, except one, were cracked or broken because of the fall. Nevertheless he put them back in the basket and carefully laid the unbroken one on top. He looked back at his mother and realised she was talking.
“…this would happen but the lord says we must stop it and move”
“ Stop what?” Milo said quickly, attempting to catch up on the missed words.
“The chicken farm” she looked up into Milo’s eyes, “And we must move”
“But I thought you said it was okay, we could stay here until the year of the Walking Ice and then pay it again”
“I know, I know” She sniffed “the lord says we have to move then or we will be thrown out”

Milo didn’t know what to say for once. He had played as a child all his life and quarterway into his adulthood. Never worrying about life was what he did best. He looked down at the crumpled map he had brought of the mines then back at his mother. Something inside him clicked and he jutted out his chin as far as it would go. He held the pose for a few moments before his mother looked up.	
“Milo?” she asked	
“Mother.” Milo paused for a moment “I will journey to this dwarven mine and find us riches beyond belief. I will return in the year of the Walking Ice and pay this lord his money” he turned his head the other way for dramatic affect “or I shall kill him”
“But Milo…”
“No Mother, I have played to long and dreamt to far. I will make the Whittersbanes the greatest chicken farmers on Toril. I swear by it.”
Milo’s Mother looked up at him with tearful eyes, “May Tymora guide you”
“I will not fail you mother. I’ll bring you back more money, riches and gems than you can dream of…”

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo’s fingers closed around the huge gemstone, he felt a tingle run up his fingers as he touched it. It was warm to the touch. Magic, here after all this time? Milo held the gem in his hands and was staring lovingly at the strange little hammer inside when he heard the first moan echo through the dwarven mines. Milo tried to prick his ears up, just like his pet weasel, Isplit. Where is Isplit? 

The second moan was a deal closer and filled with anger. He turned slowly to face the doorway, in the stone frame stood the ragged figure of a dwarven miner, a milky pale pick in hand. Milo could see the shadows of the doorway and retreating tunnel through his body, only shifting wisps created a visible body at all. Milo took a step back and felt his right foot slide over the edge of the desk. No way back, he knew that. Quick, say something.
“Nice, uh, mine you have here” he glanced quickly at the gem in his hands, “Thought I might take a souvenir.”

The ghostly figure stopped as he saw the gem in Milo’s hands. He swayed for a moment as if about to fall sideways then opened his mouth to speak,
“Leave us” a voice like nails drawn across granite, “Leave the keystone”
“Keystone?” interest sparked in Milo’s mind, “Key to what?”
“Leave us!”

The Ghost heaved forwards, the pick scythed slowly through the air towards where Milo should have been. The dwarf and his weapon stumbled into and through the table as the ghost twisted to hit the leaping Milo that sailed overhead. Milo hit the floor with momentum that carried him through the door and into the tunnel he had walked down just minutes before. He glanced right as he began to sprint, looking down the tunnel he had never ventured down and saw three more ghosts stumble from the darkness, transparent heads screaming curses in rasping voices. 

Milo didn’t stop. He lunged on ahead, his legs pumping hard towards the main room of the mine. Where is Isplit? The large doors loomed into view and the grey sheen of daylight could be seen clearly on the floor of the main room, the moaning was getting closer. Daring a glance over his shoulder, Milo saw the ghosts not running as they would have but floating towards him, with greater speed than he cared to think about.

Milo burst into the main room, leaping across the old rusted rail tracks that circled the room. From a pile in the corner came a little squeak of recognition and out darted the lithe brown form of Isplit, in his mouth was a small red gem, his small leather coat that strapped round his long waist was dirty with dust. He quickly skidded to a halt as he saw Milo approaching.
“Run Isplit!” screamed Milo, “Ghosts!”

Isplit reared up his head for a better look but got none as Milo yanked the weasel from the floor mid run. Isplit paused to register the situation, then skirted up his arm and onto his shoulder.
“Where were you?” breathed Milo as he leapt another rail track
Isplit looked bored with the question “searching for gems if you must know” the weasel bared his teeth in a vicious smile and produced the small red gem. “You said something of ghosts?”

Behind them the ghosts breezed into the main chamber, their number had increased to ten as far as Milo could count. He kept running, heading for the twisting tunnel ahead that he remembered as the exit. His feet were sure and fast, stepping lightly between cracked flagstones and smashed doorways as if they were not there. Isplit whooped as the exit bobbed ahead of them. Isplit only then noticed the gem clutched in Milo’s hands.

“Oh my gods” Isplit squeaked in delight and threw his gem behind them, the small stone sailed through the bodies of the ghosts that bared down on them, Isplit watched it zip through the mist that should be flesh. Cocking a fur-brow, Isplit greedily circled the huge gem twice before ducking into Milo’s jacket as a ghost leapt at them.

Milo vaulted a last collapsed wall and burst through the mine entrance and into the sunlight. Milo stumbled onto the loose stone slope, his legs went from beneath him and he crashed onto his stomach. Isplit catapulted through the air, screaming in unison with Milo. The ghost behind them failed to stop and fell into the sunlight, its form seemed to dissolve to dust in a whispering sigh. The remnants of the ghost blew over Milo’s face as he propped himself up on his elbows, the swift winds of Vaasa tugged at his clothes as he regained his breath. 

Milo then let out a relieved whoop and looked again at the gem sitting on the ground next to him. Isplit jerked his head from underneath Milo’s leg then scurried onto his arm and began to touch the gem with his front paws, licking it once to make sure it was real. Behind them the ghosts stood silent in the darkness of the tunnel, the dead fires of their eyes following Milo and Isplit as they picked themselves up, grinned back at the undead, then walked off down the slope chatting excitedly to each other, Milo’s small hands clutching the Keystone of the Talagbar mines.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 25, 2002)

Excellent storytelling!  I love your writing style.  Your description of what is going on makes it seem real... and you also give wonderful insight into the minds of your characters.  I especially like Torious.  Your description of his brief battle with Limmet immediately put Torious on my "must follow" list.

My only input has nothing to do with your writing... I wouldn't change a thing about that.  I would, however, put more paragraph breaks in... just to make it easier on the eyes.  Also, there is NOTHING wrong with lengthy or verbose posts... but I'd allow a day or so in-between each.  It gives people a chance to work their way into a new story.

As far as character intros coming first, nothing unorthodox about that.  That's exactly the way I started my story hour.

I'll keep my eye out for more.  This is going to be a good read.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 25, 2002)

Thanks for the encouragement - I'm typing up the old story accounts (the first is just about finished), they are all pretty much written in the same style and should be a fairly constant flow. 

Maybe a new story post every two days up until the point my players are at... hopefully I've pinned down all the details (let me tell you, theres a lot). The first chapter of Ice, Luck and Honour will be posted in nigh upon a few hours...


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## cthuluftaghn (Jun 25, 2002)

Looking forward to it.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 25, 2002)

*Ice, Luck and Honour* 


*Chapter One: Fateful Beginnings* 


Early Winter, Realms Date 1372 


Thalin Vorspen pushed his way into the Glacier’s Reach. Strange eyes turned and watched him from the every corner of the tavern. A gust of icy wind ravaged the heavy leather curtains before Thalin heaved the door closed again. Ulutiuns, barbarians who live on the meagre benefits of the glacier, were crowded to each of the walls, and a pair of frostbitten half-orcs huddled next to a raging log fire. The bass rumbles of conversations died down for a moment as Thalin stepped across the floor and placed a hand of copper pieces onto the counter,
“A nights rest” coughed Thalin, not looking up.

The half-orc barkeep stared at the owl sitting motionless on Thalin’s shoulder for a moment, before sizing up the man who stood before him. He was a little taller than the average, though his frame was thin and wiry. A scraggly beard framed his youthful face. Thalin looked up from under his wolfskin hood just long enough to make eye contact with the barkeep. The money was taken and a rag of dirty leather with runes daubed on it in yellow paint was thrust into Thalin's palm. Scrunching the rag up in his hand, and not looking at the other tavern guests, he headed for the stairs. 

- - - - - - - - - -

As Thalin disappeared up the stairs, an Ulutiun with a bronzed gorget stood up slowly, leaving his mug half full and made his way after the fledgling mage. But before the Ulutiun had a chance to follow him, two half orcs both dressed in Southern chainmail barred his way, their hands resting on their weapons. The Ulutiun growled something in Glacier-tongue before backing down.

- - - - - - - - - -

The night went uneventfully thanks to the vigilance of the two half-orcs and Thalin rose early the next morning to the sounds of wagons and horses. After a cruel breakfast Thalin decided to find a safe passage southwards. He didn't want to spend any more time than he needed to in Palishuk. The town was the primary trading post between the half-orc traders of Vaasa and the Ulutiuns, yet despite its position of power, the town had never expanded beyond its fifteen houses and large market square. 

Wagons were herded like horses in the frozen square as half-orcs and Ulutiuns noisily packed their trade goods into the different areas of the cargo train. Negotiating a quick trade with a half-orc wagon master, Thalin ensured himself a place on the wagon train South. As the preparations for the days long journey began, the appearance of humanoids other than half-orcs and Ulutiuns spurred Thalin to attempt conversation. The harsh weather matched the harsh temperaments and nothing was said of any use.

Thalin threw his travel pack onto the fourth cargo wagon, but a scuttle of noise ensued and it was immediately thrown back out as an Ulutiun stepped forwards, towering over Thalin. Dariel beats his wings and dug his talons into Thalin’s shoulder, but the young mage quickly made his apologies and carefully checks the fifth carriage was empty before jumping in. After a few delays, the wagon train left.

An hour later, Thalin was buried deep in his spellbook. His studies had hit almost a standstill. The incantations and musings of the Arch-mage Mellius were thrown together seemingly randomly; deciphering a sentence was a weeks work, let alone a complete verse. Thalin placed the book down, closing it firmly. The steady rocking of the wagon train and the monotony of the terrain outside soon found the better of Thalin, and he fell asleep.

A jarring halt slid Thalin forwards, ripping him out of his sleep. Thalin instinctively called in his mind to Dariel, but he was gliding nearly a mile ahead of the wagon train, searching for tundra-mice. Thalin’s spellbook spilt across the wooden floor, as it did so, a rat nimbly stepped out of the way, then turned and sat up on its haunches, watching Thalin with little onyx eyes. Slowly crawling to retrieve his spellbook, Thalin picked up scattered parchments as he went and moved determinedly towards the crouched rat. But the rat did not move, even as Thalin waved a menacing hand at it.

- - - - - - - - - -

A man sat huddled in the corner of an otherwise empty carriage, around him a tattered brown cloak was drawn tight. He sat crosslegged, a pole shaped bundle of rags balancing delicately on his knees. Blood was dripping from a deep gash in his side. At his feet sat nearly a dozen rats; all lay attentive to their master in a crude semi-circle. The figures eyes glinted open in the darkness of his hood as the carriage lurched to a stop. He looked intensely forwards for a moment, as if searching his mind for something, someone. A shout from outside broke the man’s concentration and he suddenly winced in pain and clutched his side.

- - - - - - - - - -

A faint shout from outside drew Thalin’s attention. The rat suddenly set down onto all fours and almost fell over, turning quickly as if trying to scratch its side with its teeth. After failing in this, it scuttled to the crack in the carriage door and leapt out. Thalin, wondering what the hell all that was about, gathered his possessions and made to open the carriage door. Before he could, a gauntleted hand reached through the gap and thrust the heavy door sideways with considerable ease. A half-orc dressed in platemail and hefting a greatsword over his shoulder stood silhouetted in the doorway. A light snow had fallen outside and the reflection glared over the half-orcs face and armour.

“You there. Ice mage. Your help is needed”, growled the half-orc in surprisingly well-spoken common.
As Thalin went to answer, the carriage jolted into momentum again. A chorus of shouts came from outside accompanied by the sounds of carriage doors being opened and closed. The half-orc dropped away from the door without another word. Thalin considered the consequences of trusting a half-orc’s word, but his curiosity overrode his commonsense. A sudden, high pitched scream from outside pierced his thoughts. Without another moments consideration, Thalin drew his father's scimitar _Shard_ and leapt out of the door and into the snow.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo Whittersbane vaulted the last collapsed wall and burst through the mine entrance and into the sunlight. Milo stumbles onto the loose stone slope of the Talagbar mines, his legs go from beneath him, crashing him onto his stomach. His weasel companion, Isplit, catapults through the air, screaming in unison with Milo. The ghost behind them, emiting a hoarse scream, fails to stop and falls into the sunlight, its form dissolving to dust in a whispering sigh. The remnants of the ghost blow over Milo’s face as he props himself up on his elbows, the swift winds of Vaasa tugging at his clothes as he regains his breath. 

Milo lets out a relieved whoop and looks again at the gem sitting on the ground next to him. Isplit’s head emerges from underneath Milo’s leg then scurries onto his arm and begins to touch the gem with his front paws, licking it once to make sure its real. Behind them the ghosts stand silent in the darkness of the tunnel, the dead fires of their eyes following Milo and Isplit as they pick themselves up, grinned back at the undead, then walk off down the slope chatting excitedly to each other, Milo’s small hands clutching the Keystone of the Talagbar mines.

“We did it!” shouts Milo, punching the air, thoughts filled with expectation of what Noristour would give him for it. A light snow had fallen since Milo had entered the recently thawed-out mines and the grand expanse of the Vaasa plains lay below him, an even white spread covering everything he could see. Isplit gazes intently into the gem, his eyes wide with delight at the sheer size of the prize.
“How much will it be?” chimes Isplit, although not daring to look away from the gem.
“I’m not sure. Maybe enough to help mother.” Milo says with a frown, his young halfling face suddenly falling at the thoughts of his mother. 
Isplit, feeling Milo’s fall of heart, suddenly taps the gem with a claw, “There’s a little axe inside, I can see it!” his voice squeaking with the chance to prove something to his companion.
“I know,” Milo answers quickly, his mind taken away from his mother momentarily, “Its actually a hammer, although I don’t know why its there. Maybe Noristour does.”

The thoughts of payment and gems the size of kobolds heads suddenly shrink away as a distant scream peels up from the plains below. Milo stops for a moment and pulls himself onto the top of a large boulder. Even before reaching the top, a thick curl of smoke dirties the white landscape, its tail leading to a small patch of trees where the base of the mountain meets the plains. A few hundred meters from the smoke, the thin line of a cargo train inches slowly southwards. Milo places his thumb over the figures milling around the wagons and pretends to squash a horse before another scream shakes him to the present.

“We should go down there,” Isplit looks concernedly at Milo
“Yeah, I guess so. Maybe someone is in trouble.” Answers Milo, craning to see a clearer view of the smoke.
“No. I mean maybe we can jump on the wagons, that way we don’t have to walk.”

Milo gives Isplit a stern look before sliding down the front of the boulder and bounding towards the smoke, but not before safely ensuring the gem is tucked tightly into the side pocket of his pack.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin tries again to force himself towards the flames, but the blazing roof once again pushes him back. He looks desperately around for something to quell the blaze.
“Circle round the back and find a way in!” Bellows the half-orc in the platemail, his right hand clutching his holy symbol of Torm for guidance.
The woman screams again, she stands sobbing at Thalin’s side. She reaches a hand towards the burning house and screams once more.

A companion to the platemail half-orc turns sharply, “Shut that blasted woman up! Tell her we’ll get her damn child. Kossuth won’t claim this life.” 
He is dressed in chainmail and wears a heavy steel helmet on his head. The halberd at his side is adorned with ropes of animal teeth and tattered remains of a Drow scalp. Thalin turns to the woman and holds her by the shoulders, but she shouts at him in a travelers tongue and pushes him away.

The platemail half-orc bellows another order to the chainmail half-orc in Damaran. His change of language has a recognized effect on the warrior and he roars a battle cry and charges into the burning house, brushing aside a burning timber as if it were not even there. As he disappears into the flames, a small figure skids into the clearing around the house and immediately shouts out, 
“What can I do?”
“Stay away! The house might collapse at any moment. We can’t risk any more lives!” barks the platemail half-orc, almost ignoring the halfling frame of Milo Whittersbane.

Milo dashes forwards suddenly and shrugging his traveling pack to the floor, scoops up some snow and hurls it at a window ledge almost entirely caught up in fire. The flames die for a second but leap back within an instant. The halfling doesn’t stop, and packing another snowball, hurls a second with the same effect. Beside him, Isplit begins to pack his own snowballs and hurl them, although with decidedly less effect.

Thalin watches the rescue effort around him, the roar of the chainmail half-orc follows the thunderous snapping of a beam inside the house, and the woman screams again and suddenly, despairingly, sprints for the burning door. Thalin surges forwards, now knowing what he can, and must, do. He catches up to the woman quickly and gripping her by the shoulder, spins her round. As he does so arcane words spill forth and the air around the woman’s head suddenly flashes and pulses with a cold light. She drops to her knees, clutching her head as if dazed. 

Another snowball hits the windowsill and Milo screams in fury, but this time the snowball sticks as Thalin steps towards the window and extends his hands in another arcane gesture. His cloak billows forwards and a fine spray of ice coats the windowsill in a glistening frost. Thalin turns and shouts at Milo over the roar of the flames.

The platemail half-orc, seeing Thalin freeze up the window bellows a command at Milo. Looking up, Milo lets the half finished snowball drop from his hands and dashes forwards. His sleek body crouches low and in one graceful arc leaps through the frozen window and into the burning building. Isplit goes to follow, but thinks better of it, and starts to construct the beginning of a snow weasel.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo lands and slides to a stop, the ceiling above him is aflame and all around the heat beats down with unrelenting ferocity. Wincing through the smoke and heat, Milo pushes on through a burning doorway into the central room of the house.

- - - - - - - - - -

Isplit suddenly coughs and rolls onto his side. He squeals and arches his back in pain, as if he himself were burning.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo coughs violently again, the room is black with smoke and feeling with his hands, touches a body on the floor. The huge from of the half-orc is pinned under a fallen beam but in his hands he holds a small baby girl, grimacing in pain, he offers the baby girl to Milo.
“Take her. Get her out. Just leave me here”
“Oh no you don’t, you’re both coming with me” wheezes Milo. With an quick swirl of his arms, the halfling conjures a small luminescent green ball in mid-air, which hovers for a moment then zips towards the beam pinning the orc. With a splintering crash, the timber snaps in half, leaving the half-orc free. Milo pulls the half-orc to his feet and pushes him back towards the window, the baby girl in the half-orcs arms clutching to his breastplate. With another hand movement, a second green orb hovers in the center of the room before zipping towards the wall directly under the window.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin ducks instinctively as the green orb explodes through the wall with a hiss and dissolves into nothingness, moments later the half-orc stumbles out with the girl in his arms. A sudden cascade of fire falls from the ceiling of the building, threatening to close off the blasted wall. But Milo slides underneath the falling ceiling moments before it crashes to the ground. Scampering to a safe distance before standing upright, the halfling beams proudly as the baby girl is delivered safely back to her mother.

Seconds later, the house collapses entirely in a shower of sparks. Thalin looks in amazement from the flaming ruins back to the mother then to the half-orc and finally to Milo. The chainmail half-orc drops to his knees, wheezing heavily. The platemail half-orc looks at Thalin and Milo and nods, acknowledging their help before turning back to his companion.

“Will he be okay?” asks Thalin as the half-orc removes his friend’s helmet to check his wounds.
“He should live.”

A black-feathered bolt shatters through the back of the wounded half-orcs head, instantly killing him. The platemail half-orc looks in disbelief for a moment before three crude arrows zip from the shadowy woods, lodging themselves into his breastplate. The half-orc lumbers to his feet, but only in time to receive a single black-feathered bolt through the neck. He gargles something, spinning slowly around to look at Thalin and Milo before dropping face down into the snow. Another hail of arrows shower into the mother and daughter, their entwined bodies collapse to the ground in silence. 

The remaining half-orcs turn and flee back towards the cargo train as a tide of dark green skinned humanoids pour from the woods towards Milo and Thalin, their snarling faces gleeful in the shifting reds and yellows of the burning building…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 2: Three’s Company*

As Milo and Thalin race away from the goblin raid, they take shelter in a city under the command of a tyrannical mage, where they join forces with a mysterious man claiming to be a descendant of the gods and attempt to uncover the truth behind the goblin raids.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 25, 2002)

Just thought I'd mention this now. Each arc contains roughly 24 chapters (as each gaming session is split into two chapters... mainly due to the amount to be read in a chapter would be slightly overkill). 

Just so you guys know what your going to be reading.

Hope you guys like it so far. I know its a bit cliche with the goblins and caravans and all but it is first level characters and the next session sees the introduction of some major villains... one or two are still massive thorns in the sides of the characters in the latest sessions.


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## Krellic (Jun 25, 2002)

So far, so good.  I'll certainly be looking forward to seeing how this develops.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 26, 2002)

*Ice, Luck and Honour* 


*Chapter 2: Three's Company* 


Early Winter, Realms Date 1372 

…The remaining half-orcs turn and flee back towards the cargo train as a tide of dark green skinned humanoids pour from the woods towards Milo and Thalin, their snarling faces gleeful in the shifting reds and yellows of the burning building…

Thalin turns and immediately backs away from the charging humanoids. He sees to his surprise that Milo has already bolted away and is a good twenty paces ahead of him, heading back towards the cargo train.
“Kill them my goblins, nothing is to escape us!” comes a distinctly human voice from within the woods. Turning back to gauge the threat of the pursuing goblins, Thalin catches a glimpse of a sleek figure clad in black, levelling a crossbow at him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Another volley of arrows thuds into the carriage, then a shuddering crash as a bronze tipped javelin the size of a ballista bolt plunges into the door, showering the man with wooden splinters.
“Hold still my children,” the man winces in pain and unsteadily pushes himself to his feet, “there is still much to be done, our time is not now”. The rats seem to rally at these words and swarm around his feet, almost helping him gain balance.

The door is thrown open jerkily, and the skull capped head of a goblin thrusts into the carriage. The rat-mage whirls around, screaming something in draconic and the rats, as one, leap forwards and engulf the goblins form in a writhing mass of brown fur. The goblin topples backwards into the snow, squealing wildly and desperately ripping at the horde of rats swarming over him. 

The rat-mage grips the long bundle of rags and takes a step towards the door, surveying the scene before him. The wagon train has ground to a halt and a tide of goblins roll towards the carriages, perhaps two hundred in all. The goblin being torn to shreds by his rats must have been a scout. Amid the sea of snarling faces lumber a number of larger humanoids, two or three bulky orcs drive forwards the goblins. Even larger shadows stalk through the trees, huge javelins in their monstrous hands. The chances of a successful defence are meagre at least, possibilities sprint through the mind of the rat-mage before quickly settling on a chance for escape. With a sweep of his hand, the rats leave the body of the goblin and he crouches on the edge of the carriage door, ready to leap to the frosted ground below.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo barrels through the legs of an orc. Crouching to a stop, Milo registers the tide of the goblins charging towards the wagons, a few goblin scouts had managed to get closer and were already opening up the carriage doors. A handful of Ulutiuns had rallied into a skirmish unit and screaming in unison, sprinting towards the oncoming lines of the goblins and orcs. Looking on in astonishment, Milo is oblivious to the orc that lumbers up behind him and swings down hard with his huge rusted axe.

- - - - - - - - - -

Clutching his side where a black-feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt sticks awkwardly through his bearskin shirt, Thalin bursts from the wood to view the devastation before him. Seeing Milo about to be attacked, Thalin instinctively begins to chant arcane words, his hands tracing lines through the air despite the pain in his side. A nimbus of light sparkles over the mages body leaving a thin layer of frost over his clothing and skin, as this happens, the wolfskin cloak billows around him and an icy shard hurtles from the shadows of the cloak, tearing through the air and into the back of the orc stood over Milo. A shattering crack issues from the orc as his back crystallises into ice and shatters onto the ground, with a gurgling scream, his heavy body collapses onto the top of the distracted halfling. Stepping forwards, Thalin heaves the body away from Milo and grabs his hand, helping the halfling to his feet. Milo chimes his thanks but his words die in his throat as a huge shadow falls over the man and the halfling.

The roar of the ogre drops Milo to his knees in fear, its immense form holding a giant javelin in each callused hand. The ogre scythes the javelins down but reels back as a pulse of cold air fills his vision, he roars quickly and raises a mighty hand to rub the icy cloud away from his eyes. Using the moment’s respite from his spell, Thalin drags Milo to his feet and sprints towards the carriages.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Ulutiuns hammer into the flimsy line of the goblins. A challenge bellows forth from an orc who hefts a mighty morning star over his head, pointing at the lead Ulutiun. Accepting the challenge, the Ulutiun turns away from his goblin opponents to face the orc but is suddenly swarmed by goblins and dragged violently to the ground. The orc laughs at the stupidity of the iceman and wades into the Ulutiuns, a murderous grin of pleasure rupturing across his face as his weapon meets flesh.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin and Milo reach the first carriage as the goblin swarm presses towards the Ulutiuns, slowing their attack somewhat. Men, women and children lie dead on the ground, crude arrows protruding from the corpses. The snow is spattered with the blood of the wagon travellers.
“We have to find any survivors and flee, we can’t stay here.” Shouts Thalin over the approaching screams of the goblins. Thalin could feel the approval of his wizened familiar, who swooped over the battleground, looking for survivors and a way out.
“We could take the horses, they’re tethered up at the front of the cargo wagon!” adds Milo, who without even waiting for a reply drops to the ground and scampers under the carriage to the other side of the wagon train. 

Thalin turns back to the battle and surveying the Ulutiuns fall before the goblin horde, his fathers words suddenly spring into his head; Only death and war lies in the south. 

Pushing his regrets deeper into him, Thalin wielding Shard in the Ulutiun style and with a full arching sweep, decapitates a goblin that had attempted to sneak round and stab him in the back.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo reaches the horses in under a minute and quickly begins to untether them. But he falls still and steps into the shadows of the lead carriage as a wicked laugh emits from the other side of the horses. A goblin steps into his view but doesn’t see the hidden halfling. The goblin laughs again and waving his shortsword like a fork, takes determined steps towards one of the wagon horses. Milo holds his breath and quietly cocks a bolt into his halfling size crossbow. Wincing with the sound of the string stretching, he begins to wind the bolt into a firing position.

- - - - - - - - - -

Crude arrows thud into the ground around Thalin. The sheer fact that he hadn’t been hit yet was surely a blessing of Tymora. As Thalin steps sideways to avoid a fallen goblin body, a group of rats dart from out of the carriage shadows and block his path. Thalin has no time for this and leaps over the line of vermin only to skid in front of an open carriage door, where a man dressed in tattered brown rags and holding a long bundle of rags sits crouched on the edge. Seeing Thalin, a hopeful stare echoes across his face before he leaps from the open door to the ground below.

The hum of the javelin through the air precedes the wet thud as it drives through the rat-mages stomach, pinning him to the carriage door. His body jerks to a stop a few inches from the ground and he lets out a rattled shriek of pain. Thalin watches in horror as almost half of the rats swarming under the rat-mages feet keel over and die in an instant, their small bodies almost snapped like twigs.  

Thalin leaps forwards to help the rat-mage.
“It is too important… you must take it…” a spasm racks the man body.
Thalin stares, not understanding what is happening.
“You must travel… travel… it is too important to lose. Keep it safe… you must!” 
“What? What do you mean… what is important?” shouts Thalin, wary of the advancing goblins behind him. A hail of black arrows pepper the side of the carriage, inches from the two figures.
With a shriek of pain, the rat-mage shudders once then breathes his last words,
“Too important. Take it to… to Tilverton.”
With a final spasm, the life of the rat-mage ends and the bundle of rags drops to the floor. The remaining rats squirm and die, their life extinguished as their master falls finally into the hands of Kelemvor. 

Thalin looks for a moment before being forced into action by another hail of arrows, one slicing through the trailing end of his cloak. With a deft movement, Thalin grasps the long bundle of rags and is surprised at the weight of the object inside, a metal staff or rod perhaps. Thalin did not have time to check as he began to sprint towards the horses.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo shakily emerges from the shadows as the goblin clutches at the bolt in his back before falling forwards into the snow. The horses whinney and rear up at the smell of blood, but Milo quickly puts a soothing hand onto their sides to reassure them.
“Milo! The horses, quickly!” shouts Thalin as he sprints towards his newfound companion.
With a quick swipe of his blade, Milo cuts the shackles of the horses and nimbly leaps onto the back of a smaller mare, snaring the reins of a stallion for Thalin as the rest of the horses bolt away from the battle. 

Thalin swings quickly onto the horse and digs his heels into its side, Thalin’s and Milo’s horses rear up and in unison hammer down the plains and away from the marauding goblins. Little is said as the two travellers, thrown together through fate, canter southwards towards the trading post of Darmshall.

- - - - - - - - - -

After they travel for more than an hour, the two companions come to a stop as the outskirts of Darmshall begin to rise around them. The journey was fast and hard but sheer adrenalin keeps them going. They decide to stop and walk into the town on foot, as they walk they learn of each others past and why they are travelling, not more can be said before they are drawn to the sight of a young man sitting alone at the side of a small camp fire. On one side of the man sits a sword and the other is a travelling pack.

Milo says that he knows the mage of the town, Noristour, and can probably organise a meeting with him to tell him about the goblin raids. Milo also mentions the fact that the town has a magical perimeter designed to alert Noristour to every creature that crosses the magical boundary. The fact that this man has made a campfire outside of the perimeter is dangerous simply to the fact that the area is rife with goblins, outlaws, and worse.

Thalin remains at a distance, checking his wound as Milo approaches the man, intent on finding out why he is outside of the perimeter. A few minutes later, Thalin sees Milo walking back with the man following him, Milo is waving and smiling, but the man seems deadly serious. As he gets closer, a deep white scar on each cheek becomes visible and Thalin is immediately wary, knowing better than to immediately trust a stranger. Both Milo and Thalin are a little disturbed by both the beauty and disposition of the man before them.

Milo introduces the man as Torious Mangrane and he’s from Raven’s Bluff and has travelled because of dream visions leading him to this very spot. As Milo excitedly explains, the man remains silent until Milo has finished then reaches out a hand to Thalin.
“I am Torious Mangrane. A traveller following my lord Tyr’s guidance.” Thalin winces from pain as he extends his arm and shakes Torious’.
“You are hurt my friend. I am skilled in the arts of healing…” says Torious, sighting the wound in Thalin’s side.
“Thank you but I can manage fine…” Grimaces Thalin, but his body betrays him and he staggers sideways. Torious catches him and with the help of Milo escort the wounded mage to the fireside.

As Torious dresses Thalin’s wound he freely tells of his reason for being outside of the perimeter, the fact that he killed a local man and does not need Noristour pursuing him. Milo is a little taken aback by this confession but soon learns Torious is a priest of Tyr and considers lying a sin. Not really understanding this, Milo informs Torious that he is a wandering noble and needs shelter, but is also grand friends with Noristour and believes he may be able to avert any vengeance that Noristour seeks. Torious warily believes the enthusiastic halfling and offers payment for Milo’s service. Milo bites his tongue to stop saying yes and refuses payment, saying healing the mage is payment enough. Torious agrees and after using some source of inner power, fully heals Thalin’s wounds with his bare hands.

After further talk, mostly on the subject of grilling Torious about his heritage (Milo is intensely interested to know that Torious thinks he is a direct descendant of Tyr), the trio set into the town of Darmshall. The sunlight is dying and soon the thin yellow band of the magical perimeter hovers before them, stretching left and right and disappearing behind houses and trees.

- - - - - - - - - -

Noristour organises the papers on his desk again, hoping to create less paper work if the stacks are neater. He sits back into the chair and sighs deeply. His quasit familiar, Xsistass, perches neatly on the chair back, sharing his masters frustration. When will the components he needs finally reveal themselves? He hadn’t even got the most basic of requirements, and the town was somehow generating mountains of paperwork, which has to all be checked and reviewed. Where would he find the time?

A metallic chime issues from his staff, which is leant against the cylindrical wall of the mage tower. Leaning over and picking up the staff, concentrating his vision the mage reaches his mind out to the north west perimeter, where his staff told him two men and a halfling had just entered. Nothing of interest. But a note of recognition passes as he sees the halfling and that man with the scars. With a swirl of his cape, Noristour prepares to confront the travellers.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin presses onwards into the town, leaving Milo behind playing with the perimeter line. Milo passes his hand through the yellow glow twice more before noticing his companions and running after them.

Thalin reaches the mages tower in a matter of minutes, its crooked form surely supported by magic from some source. Putting arcane matters aside, Thalin knocks on the door intending to inform the wizard of the goblin raid. After knocking for the third time, the three companions turn to leave but stop when the door eases open and Noristour steps onto the cobbled streets. Dressed in black, with a little demon squatted on his shoulder, he makes a striking figure. Isplit hisses at the demon and Dariel suddenly takes flight, circling and squawking to show his distress at the unnaturalness of the creature. Xsistass watches the owl swoop around with a keen interest.

Noristour scowls at Torious and taps his staff on the ground.
“You are charged with murder, don’t try to…” 
“Wait! He knows where that special ring is! I couldn’t find it but he says he knows!” answers Milo quickly. Both Torious and Thalin stare at the halfling.
“No I don’t.” says Torious in a level voice.
“Yes, you do,” says Milo quickly, reaching his hand behind his back he pushes the keystone deeper into his rucksack, knowing that any evidence that he went to the mines rather than track down the ring would give him away. “…and you told me you can get it for this mighty mage! Isn’t that right… Thalin!” Milo looks to Thalin for help.
“Yes. That’s right,” stammers Thalin. Xsistass stares at Thalin with cold eyes. Maybe he knows what is being said.

But the mage is unaware and Milo talks over Torious, and as quickly as possible ensures the mage that they will get the ring within the next few days, as long as Torious won’t be punished and they are allowed to stay in the town. Noristour, not seeing any loss at sending more men to acquire the ring and temporarily ignoring the faults of a foolish boy, agrees and sends the adventurers on their way. He makes sure the three adventurers get the ring and bring it to him within two days.

The three adventurers agree to aid each other in the attempt to get the ring, hoping it might provide money for a journey west or east. Thalin then remembers the bundle and unwraps it as he walks and is stunned to find a smooth wooden staff with the word “Erifeci” inscribed onto the five foot shaft. Quickly wrapping it up again, he swears to discover the properties of the staff the next day. The adventurers discuss the difficulties of acquiring the ring, which Milo says is reportedly in the hands of a local goblin warlord, the self-styled King Doom. The group are gradually subsumed by their weariness and the three companions make their way to the local tavern, The Headless Woman. 

Walking in they are suddenly in a throng of elves, half-orcs, dwarves and humans. All three push their way towards the bar. Thalin holds a silver coin in his hand and knocks on the counter for service, but the mage accidentally bumps into a black cloaked man stood to his right, the man turns to face Thalin. His face has a scar running from his forehead to his chin, with greasy lengths of black hair falling across his hollow eyes. He is dressed fully in black with a tarnished chainmail shirt over the top.
“Careful stranger, you should watch where you step.” Spits the man, the scar-side of his face twitching as he talks. 
Thalin quickly apologises and the man grimaces before turning back to the bar. Thalin catches his breath as he sees a quiver of black-feathered bolts hanging from the mans belt...

To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 3: Doom’s Doom*

The three adventurers, amidst the chaos of a rampaging minotaur, track King Doom to a mountain lair. When the heroes attack, their lives are thrown into jeopardy as a new deadly villain makes his presence felt.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 27, 2002)

*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 3: Doom’s Doom*


Early Winter, Realms Date 1372

…“Careful stranger, you should watch where you step.” Spits the man, the scar-side of his face twitching as he talks. 
Thalin quickly apologises and the man grimaces before turning back to the bar. Thalin catches his breath as he sees a quiver of black-feathered bolts at the mans side...

Torious notices his companion’s nervous stance and following his gaze, finds Thalin staring at a thin man in black. The figure walks from the bar to a small table on the furthest wall from the doorway, sits down and slides a drink to another man dressed in dim red chainmail. The man looks up and says something but despite Torious’ enhanced hearing he can’t pick out the words over the general din of the tavern. The man in black says something back then nods over at Thalin, who quickly grabs his drink and makes his way over to Torious and Milo. 

Thalin places the mug on the table and explains to Milo and Torious about the man and his black-feathered bolts. The three adventurers decide that here is not the best place to confront the man, and he might even lead them directly to King Doom if what Thalin believes is true. Without further ado, the three companions make a swift exit up to their separate rooms, vowing to get up at first light to gather food and tents for their travels into the mountains. 

- - - - - - - - - -

The man in black watches the halfling, the ice mage and the Tyr priest walk upstairs. He snarls and says something to the man in red, who laughs loudly. A few minutes later they both get up to leave, and with a nod to the barkeep push through the door and into the night air of Darmshall.

- - - - - - - - - -

The chains stretch taut in the morning light and a grey clad half-drow shouts a number of words in undercommon, hearing these, a second half-drow snarls a curse back before pulling tighter on the magical shackles that hold the hulking form of a minotaur. The dim hum of the market is shattered by the bellowing roar of the minotaur as it is herded towards a wooden enclosure at the other end of the huge trading square. Children skip and hop around the enraged minotaur, laughing as it strains to break free from the drow chains.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin and Torious look up from their breakfasts as a half dressed Milo blurs past them and into the street, heading as fast as he can towards the minotaur. The tavern occupants watch the halfling dash out then return to their business. Thalin and Torious finish their meals before heading into the market town. As the two travellers leave, a short, squat man with a small velvet cape jumps from a stool and heads after the two men.

- - - - - - - - - -

The minotaur roars again, but this time in defeat as it is finally manoeuvred into the holding pen. The half-drow grin triumphantly and edge into the pen to secure the chains to the sides, the minotaur strains to get at its captors but the magic of the chains holds it still. Milo pushes for a view but can’t get past a large woman who is boasting about eating minotaur flesh. Feeling sorry for the shackled beast, Milo gives up trying to push through and instead settles for the woman’s purse.

Milo pushes back through the crowd, spying at once his two companions who have sat themselves on the lip of a dried up fountain. Milo presents himself with a flourish and scrambles onto the fountain. The three travellers continue to watch, then Thalin, not wanting to get distracted by the minotaur, jumps down to go and collect rations and tents for the travel into the mountains. He disappears into the crowd. 

Milo turns to Torious and shows him the woman’s purse and is about to say where he got it when a sharp voice floats down to them from above.
“Can I interest you in items of wonderful magic power?” the small, squat man from the tavern sits cross-legged on the pinnacle of the fountain, his sharp little eyes registering every movement of the two adventurers. Torious looks up in quiet judgement but Milo stands quickly, eyes ablaze with curiosity.
“What sort of items?” shouts Milo eagerly.
“All sorts of course. I am Mikka Tressak, and from Halruaa to Waterdeep I find things you need,” the small man grins at Milo with wickedly pointed teeth “… things you just can’t do without.”
Milo is entranced and hurries forwards as the small man nimbly jumps down and beckons Milo forwards.

Torious turns his attentions away from Milo and the little man, finding instead his eyes wandering across the crowd and picking out the man in red chainmail, who now wears a dark red cloak. The man pushes through the crowd, angrily shoving anyone aside who offers resistance.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Milo looks at the wares that Mikka lays before him, wonders of many different kinds arrayed before him, just begging to be investigated. Mikka cycles quickly through his portable shop, praising the best points of each item and giving a brief history. Milo only listens to the stories behind the strangest looking ones. A elaborate dagger that leaks blood when held, a set of silver boots that cannot be moved once a special word is shouted, a intricate mechanical spider that burns gems to make light, a glowing red ring with the power to throw fire… the list went on and on but soon Milo was overloaded with things he wanted. 

Milo sadly explains he hadn’t enough money even for the smallest of the items; a thin headband that Mikka says could control ants. Mikka shakes his head and mutters a curse under his breath. Milo apologises for wasting his time but thanks the trader anyways, promising he would find him when he had enough money for something.

Mikka stands slowly, brushing dust from the back of his pants and rolling his items up into a small bundle that was surely too small to accommodate such a range of things. With a sigh, Milo turns his attention back to the minotaur. Mikka, seeing nobody is watching, takes a few careful steps towards the distracted Torious. Milo suddenly remembers the heavy dwarven gem and shouts to Mikka to come back, only to turn and see Mikka silently digging through Torious’ travel bag. With a yelp he jumps to his feet.
“Thief!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin walks out of the general store with all the items necessary for the trip and tries to spy his companions in the crowd, only to see them chasing an ugly little man across the fountain and into the crowd. Thalin shoulders the skin of equipment and hurries to try and catch up with Milo and Torious.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Swivelling to see Mikka digging through his bag, Torious gives a yell and hefts himself onto the fountain, drawing his longsword, Justicar. The crowd turn suddenly as Torious flares his birth scars, sending a swash of white light across the trading square. Mikka screams and taking a running jump, leaps over the heads of nearest crowd members, his little form disappearing entirely from sight as the crowd swallow him.

Milo grabs his crossbow from the ground, and thinking of the fun to be had with a chase, takes three steps before launching himself as far as he can into the crowd. Torious bellows a challenge from the heavens and dropping off of the fountain edge, runs into the crowd, shouting for them to get out of the way.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mikka pushes through the last of the crowd and presses himself against the pen of the minotaur. Milo jumps through moments later, only to find Mikka already climbing up the pen side, looking for another place to jump from. 

With a roar, Torious bursts from the crowd and sliding his longsword into the thief’s leg, barrels Mikka through the pen side fence. The two men slide to a halt directly under the monstrous form of the shackled minotaur. Milo shouts a warning to Torious as the minotaur raises a cloven hoof to crush the two men lying under him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin, having lost Milo and Torious in the crowd had returned to the fountain and watched the chase from a better viewpoint. With the help of Dariel, who circled only meters above the thief, Thalin had watched as Torious broke through the pen fence. Without a thought, his hands blur into action and familiar words spill forth. Two icy shards streak from Thalin’s cloak and, despite the distance to the minotaur, unerringly strike the minotaur in the chest. The minotaur reels back, letting Torious and Mikka scramble to the side of the pen. 

With a sinking feeling, Thalin watches the icy blast from his spell seep across the minotaur’s chest and onto the shackles around its waist.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious stands shakily to his feet and whirls to face Mikka.
“You have been judged by Tyr! You cannot…”
“Run you fool!” shouts Mikka as he clutches his leg. The minotaur swings with a heavy clawed fist but swipes only air as Mikka knocks Torious to the ground.
Torious lands heavily but rolls to the side as the minotaur’s other fist crunches into the ground where he had been. Mikka jumps to his feet and grabbing Torious’ arm, limps towards the gate. The minotaur roars and charges at the retreating men, for a moment the chains hold the beast but the central shackles snaps like twigs as the minotaur thrusts forwards again. Sprinting through the gates, Torious and Mikka run into the dispersing crowd as the minotaur thunders to its freedom.

- - - - - - - - - -

As Thalin draws his crossbow and levels a bolt at the creature, a group of town guards sprint round the corner and drop into a two-tier crossbow formation. The minotaur bellows loudly and charges into the crowd, hurling an unfortunate woman high into the air. The beast roars again as the woman lands with a thud, but is cut short as a hail of crossbow bolts from the combined efforts of Thalin, Milo and the town guards whistle into the beast. 

Torious grips Mikka with his gauntleted hand, not letting the thief go despite his best efforts. The minotaur bellows and Torious quickly decides to release Mikka in order to defend the townsfolk. With a cheeky “See you later”, Mikka limps quickly down a side alley and disappears. Without further delay, Torious sprints to his left as he sees the minotaur wheeling around towards the guards. With a grim look on his face, Torious sparks a line with Justicar on the paving stones and stares at the hulking minotaur as it scrapes its hooves and readies a charge.

The crowd scatters in all directions. The minotaur stands for a moment before another bolt thuds into its side, spurning it forwards. Shrugging off the bolts lodged in his hide, the minotaur turns and charges at Torious and the guards behind him. Despite bolts slamming into the charging monster, its hulking form builds momentum and lowers its head to skewer Torious on its mighty horns.

With a deft dodge backwards, Torious evades the plunging horns and choosing his spot, drives Justicar into the back of the minotaur’s skull, killing it instantly. With a thunderous crash, the minotaur slides to the ground in a plume of dust. Torious places a boot on the head of the body and pulls free his longsword.

The screams of the crowd die down as the guards run to casualties and reassure people they are safe. Torious picks himself up and looks for the thief, but he is nowhere to be seen. Thalin and Milo dash over to Torious to make sure he is okay. Thalin looks wearily around as the guards begin to question people about the cause of the disturbance.
“Perhaps we should leave now.” Thalin says, nodding in the direction of the guards. Seeing no reason to be caught up, Thalin, Milo and Torious leave town quickly and head for the southern end of the Talagbar mountains.

- - - - - - - - - -

After three hours of climbing up through the cold, rocky terrain the three adventurers stop to take a break and discuss what to do once they find King Doom, as they talk, Thalin unwraps Erifeci and begins to look it over in detail. 

Not really sure who King Doom is and what he commands, the adventurers go on what little information they have and build a rudimentary plan to attack the lair as quietly as possible and escape with the ring, hopefully staying no longer than necessary. They agree to meet back at this spot if they are separated.

Thalin cracks the staff on the ground in frustration. The staff is undetailed other than the markings of “Erifeci” on the shaft and the two ends being slightly bumped and sculpted. Thalin passes the staff to Milo for inspection. Torious cleans his armour and sword as the two talk.
“Well, Erifeci means nothing on its own, is it a password or something?” says Milo, looking keenly at the staff.
“I’m not sure, but the ends of the staff are different shapes. This one is a crystal and the other is a sort of a flame.” Answers back Thalin, showing the ends to Milo.
Milo muses this for a moment then holding the staff in both hands, shouts
“Erifeci!”
No effect. But Thalin narrows his eyes and takes the staff back,
“Erif…” he lets the word trail off and suddenly the staff hums to life, the flame end throbs with an intense red light and the staff grows slightly lighter. Thalin and Milo explode into conversation and decide to see what the end now does. With a smooth swing, Thalin drives the red end of the staff into the ground. With a thick whine the red light disappears and for a moment nothing happens then suddenly the mountain grass around where the staff struck glistens red, each individual blade of grass coated in a fine layer of red light. Other than the light, nothing else happens. Crouching gingerly, Milo feels a slight chill as he touches the grass, but nothing else.

Thalin nods in encouragement as he hands the staff to Milo. Both now knowing the next word, they watch the crystal end in keen interest,
“Eci.”
As they expected, the crystal end hums into life with a sparkling blue energy. 

Torious looks up and walks over to mage and halfling. He stands beside Thalin.
“It looks like an icicle.” Mentions Torious, now wanting to add his thoughts.
Milo stares for a moment then shouts, “That’s it! Erifeci is Ice Fire backwards! There must be four code words. Torious, you’re a genius!” 
Torious looks confused for a moment, then accepts the halfling’s praise.
With a twirl of the staff, Milo screams “Fire!” and drives the flame end into the ground. Nothing. No effect.

“Wait. Discharge the Eci first, it might not be able to do everything at once.” Says Thalin hurriedly.
Milo touches the staff to the ground, making sure not to touch any of the red grass. With a similar dull whine the grass is coated with a white sheen, in a small area the two grass circles overlap and the grass is layered with both colours. Not wanting to wait any further, Milo shouts “Fire!” and strikes the staff into the ground. With a whoosh the fire end is surrounded with a nimbus of red energy then a violent crackle as the staff’s power arches into the ground. Flames course over the ground, burning the mountain grass as it spirals to fill a meter wide circle. At the edge of the flames, the red circle overlaps ever so slightly and the flames are held at bay by the red light. 

But the heroes don’t have time to notice this slight effect as a crude arrow clatters into the pot resting over the campfire, zipping only inches from Milo’s head. A shrieking curse from the top of a nearby outcrop reveals the lone goblin scout to the three adventurers. With another shriek of panic, seeing the arrow missed, the goblin jumps backwards off the outcrop and out of view.

Milo’s crossbow bolt splinters on the empty outcrop, moments too late to catch the fleeing scout. Winding back a second shot, Milo hauls his pack onto his shoulders and leaps after the goblin, followed quickly by Torious then Thalin. 

- - - - - - - - - -

As the adventurers give chase to the goblin, a shadowy figure detaches from the nearby woods and slinks over the outcrop, pausing momentarily to wind a black-feathered bolt into sleek crossbow before disappearing over the rocky bluff.

- - - - - - - - - -

The goblin skids through the last of the tree line and shouts something before dashing towards the huge scar in the cliff face where a curl of smoke rises from a smouldering fire. A number of goblins look up as the scout dashes towards them and quickly grab wicked looking shortswords as he motions behind him.

King Doom hears the ruckus outside of his lair, and putting his leather boots on, adjusts the metal ring on his finger and struts through a small exit and into the light outside. The barks of “intruders” and “attack” fill Doom’s ears and raising a little staff with a dead bat nailed to the top, he squeals an order to his Doomguard; a select group of slightly larger goblins in the corner. A few resist but King Doom suddenly levels his ringed finger at them and they cower to the floor, crawling to evade the pointed wrath of the goblin king. They quickly sling on their patchy platemail armour, and hefting bastard swords onto their shoulders, march into the sunlight.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious reaches the clearing first, being slightly faster than Milo.
“You have been judged for death goblins! Tyr will claim you now!” shouts Torious as he charges into the clearing, heading for the eight platemailed goblins who march regimentally out of the lair. Seeing King Doom behind the guards, Torious pulls to a halt and issues a challenge. Not understanding the armoured man in front of them, the Doomguard quickly circle round the pious cleric and without hesitation launch an attack from all sides. Torious disappears under a blur of armoured greenskins, his screams of judgement drowned out by the clash of steel on steel.

Milo and Thalin dash from the shadows of the trees and stop to survey the scene before them. Milo wields his crossbow and seeing the strutting figure of King Doom beyond the milieu surrounding Torious, sprints forwards and placing a boot on the back of one of the Doomguard, leaps fully over the circle of goblins and lands only meters from King Doom. King Doom shakily points his ringed finger at the acrobatic halfling and opens his mouth to say something, but is cut short as Milo smoothly brings his crossbow up and levels a bolt at the goblins chest. 
“Sorry.” says Milo sincerely as the trigger clicks, loosing a bolt into the King, piercing his heart instantly.
King Doom stands stunned for a moment, staring at the sombre halfling before dropping to his knees and folding onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

Thalin twirls Shard into his familiar Ulutiun style before advancing towards the throng of goblins. Raising his arms to strike a poised goblin, a sudden searing pain strikes through his right arm as a black-feathered bolt slices neatly into the mages flesh, halting the sword strike mid air. Thalin gasps in agony and falls sideways, clutching his damaged arm and dropping Shard as he sees the scarred man from the tavern step from the trees behind him. The man sneers and quickly cocks another bolt, ready to loose it straight at the defenceless mage… 


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour* 
*Chapter 4: The Eight Blades of Talagbar* 

Returning to Darmshall, the heroes are determined to travel westwards but Milo must return to the frozen depths of the Talagbar mines. As villains pursue them and foes mount against them, will the heroes make it through the mines all in one piece?


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 28, 2002)

Is anyone other than cthuluftaghn and Krellic reading this? 

By the way, I made some edits to the original three stories, smoothing out paragraphs and adding some breaks in (I see what you mean cthuluftaghn, about the text needing to be broken up a little)... 

do you guys think the format is okay so far?


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## BeholderBurger (Jun 29, 2002)

*good stuff*

I am also reading this. Its excellent stuff. You have taken old forgotten realms material and breathed new life into it. I might steal some ideas for my game. Cheers.

Your right about the copyright idea. You should definitely mention something.


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## Krellic (Jun 29, 2002)

These are interesting PCs in an interesting situation.  I liked the minotaur episode.  Nothing like a wild thing mrauding through your local populace to stir players up!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 29, 2002)

Krellic said:
			
		

> *These are interesting PCs in an interesting situation. I liked the minotaur episode. Nothing like a wild thing marauding through your local populace to stir players up! *




You really should have seen the players faces when the minotaur snapped out of the shackles, their faces dropped all at the same time, as they realised what sort of thing their first/second level characters were facing. But they got through (and facing things a lot tougher than them became something of a trend, albeit a superbly tense event every time it happened).

Thanks for the support guys. Keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 4... coming within the next few days (It's probably one of the chapters I'm most looking forward to writing, and want to do justice to exactly what the players went through).


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## chillwindhaven69 (Jun 30, 2002)

i agree, very well written, this is real interesting stuff, please continue.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 30, 2002)

This next post is a little longer than the previous chapter, but a lot happens which all needed to be covered. Anyway... enjoy Chapter 4: The Eight Blades of Talagbar


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jun 30, 2002)

*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 4: The Eight Blades of Talagbar*


Early to Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372

…Thalin twirls Shard into his familiar Ulutiun style before advancing towards the throng of goblins. Raising his arms to strike a poised goblin, a sudden searing pain strikes through his right arm as a black-feathered bolt slices neatly into the mages flesh, halting the sword strike mid air. Thalin gasps in agony and falls sideways, dropping Shard as he sees the scarred man from the tavern step from the trees behind him. The man sneers and quickly cocks another bolt, ready to loose it straight at the defenceless mage… 

Dariel swoops off of Thalin’s shoulder and out of danger as, roaring with pain, Thalin pushes himself to his feet with his splintered arm and with a scream of arcane power the ground all around Thalin frosts suddenly and a shimmer of ice covers the mage. A black-feathered bolt scythes through the air, whistling straight between the mage’s shoulder blades. With a crack the bolt shatters on the mages chest, frozen slivers exploding in all directions. As the man stands shocked, Thalin immediately pushes the attack, and picking up Shard in his untrained left hand, sprints through the cloud of ice to engage the man in single combat.

Milo watches King Doom drop to the ground before turning to aid his companions. Watching the Doomguard bring their swords down again and again into the now unconscious form of Torious, Milo slides forward to attack but then pauses and delving into a side pocket on his pouch, grabs a handful of silver coins. Leaping into the air and using what limited goblin language he has learnt, shouts 
“Silver! Silver!” and with a shout of exertion, hurls the coins as high as he can. 

Two of the Doomguard swing their heads round and seeing the silver raining around them, squirm away from the throng around Torious and begin scrabbling round in the dirt, clutching as many coins as they can. As their friends disengage, the other Doomguard jump away and begin to find all the silver they can, leaving the nearly dead Torious lying in a bloody heap.

Thalin brings Shard up in a lazy arc, his left hand offering no real power compared to his right. With a laugh, the man clatters the scimitar aside with a deft blow from his own short sword, Vampire. The man forces Thalin back with a quick flicker of his sword at the mage’s face. Looking for any weakness the man might display, Thalin notices his opponents chainmail slide aside for a moment, and spots a faded family badge depicting a black crag on a starry sky on the mans black doublet. Seeing the mage staring at his family’s badge, the man darts forwards and drives Vampire into Thalin’s stomach with a roar of anger, covering his family’s badge as he moves. The mage falls backwards onto the floor, and the man steps over Thalin with a twisted grin.

Seeing that his plan worked, Milo darts through the distracted Doomguard and crouches next to Torious. The priest’s helmet has almost been sundered through and his breastplate is punctured beyond repair. With a quick prayer to Tymora to help guide Torious back to the living, Milo uncorks a small green bottle that his mother told him only to use it if he ever gets hurt. Pressing the flask to Torious’ lips, Milo upends the bottle, tipping the potion into the priest’s mouth. After a moments pause, Torious coughs violently, spluttering some of the potion into the air, then sits up. Milo looks in astonishment at the bottle, then carefully wraps it up in a handkerchief and places it back in his pack next to the two full bottles, reminding himself to thank his mother when he got the chance.

The Doomguard, having picked up the thrown coins, suddenly break into a racket of barks and squeals as they point at the dead body of King Doom. With a roar, Torious stands and throwing his helmet to the side, picks Justicar from the ground and with a snarl of rage issues a challenge to the Doomguard themselves. With a quick look at each other, and then their dead king, the Doomguard turn and flee. Torious stands triumphant for a moment then staggers once and collapses to the ground.

Thalin pushes himself backwards as the man advances, desperately clutching at the ground behind him. He grasps the clothed shaft of Erifeci. With a quick dart sideways, Thalin shakes the bandages away from the staff and with a shout of rage swings the staff towards his opponent, screaming the command word “Ice” as it carves through the air, with a blast of blue light, the iced tip shimmers cold blue.

Too confident in his advantage, the man in black steps too far and is unable to defend his sword arm, taking the full brunt of the powered staff to his right arm. With a sickening crackle then a snap, his sword arm frosts completely then breaks off altogether, falling to the ground with a soft thud and a scream of horrified pain from the man. With another scream, the man stumbles backwards, clutching his shattered stump in his left hand. With a snarl of defeat, he dashes into the tree line and disappears into the shadows.

Seeing that the battle is won the three companions, quickly ensuring that neither the man in black nor the Doomguard are coming back, use Torious’ ability to heal and regroup. Thalin informs the other two about the faded insignia worn by the man in black and immediately Torious identifies it as a marking of the Blackrock family, although he says the family is based in the Dales and have no real business up north. Deciding to investigate further, Torious and Thalin advance into the jagged cave leading to King Doom’s lair, whilst Milo, Isplit and Dariel keep watch.

As Milo keeps a lookout, he feels a crunch under his boot and looks down, only to find the thawing remnants of a human arm, still grasping a shortsword with the inscription “Vampire” on the blade. With a quick look about, Milo prizes the shortsword out of the frosted hand and throwing his old shortsword away, slings the new weapon into his belt. Suddenly the halfling remembers King Doom’s ring and bounds back over towards the fallen goblin to collect what they came for.

- - - - - - - - - -

Finding that nobody else is in the lair, Thalin and Torious come to the conclusion that it must have been a barracks of some sort and only housed the fighters of the goblin clan. Torious suggests tracking down the lair and checking for any prisoners, but Thalin points out that the goblins would most likely eat anything they captured and also that they were restrained by time. However, after searching what were presumably King Doom’s quarters (complete with stick drawing of King Doom ruling over the entire world, and a box with various staffs with different animals nailed to the ends), the two adventurers unearth a small, metallic box that is locked shut. There is no key in the room, and failing brute strength, Thalin suggests taking it to Milo to see if he can open it with his lock picks.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo and Isplit had busied themselves with making a small grave for King Doom when Torious and Thalin emerge and give him the box to open. Thalin informs the halfling that he can feel the tremors of magic inside, so be careful of traps. Before he opens the box, Milo presents to his companions King Doom’s bronze ring and Thalin analyses it as possessing moderate transmutation and necromancy magic. It’s unanimous that it should not be worn. Milo looks over the box and after checking for traps and a few minutes of tinkering with lock picks, springs the lid open.

Inside the box are a small letter and a scroll bound in a length of dried human skin. Thalin takes the scroll but can’t read it, saying it is in some sort of goblin language and would need to be deciphered. However, the letter reads the following:

	Doom – your hide is hunted. Lyle B is sent to assume command.

After making the connection that Lyle B was the Blackrock man, Torious can’t bring any more light as to whom Lyle Blackrock is. Milo suggests taking the box with them to see if anyone can identify where it’s from. The other two agree, and Thalin places a black-bottled potion his father gave him and a magical protection scroll in the box for safe keeping. Without wanting to give the Doomguard time to reform and attack, the three adventurers quickly head back to Darmshall to deliver the ring to Noristour.

- - - - - - - - - -

With a flourish Milo places the ring on Noristour’s desk. Emitting a strange hissing sound, Xsistass leaps from a perch in the shadows and lands next to the ring, guarding it jealously with chitinous little arms.
Noristour turns from a huge star chart behind him, which has hundreds of lines and calculations scribbled all over it.
“You have done well, although I can’t allow you to stay in Darmshall any longer,” says Noristour thinly, his eyes not even looking at the three adventurers as he gazes at the bronze ring lying on the table.
Torious, Thalin and Milo look at each other in amazement.
“But we got your damn ring for you! What more do you want from us?” shouts Thalin in a sudden outburst. Dariel screams in unison, beating his wings in frustration. 
“Nothing,” says Noristour flatly, “which is exactly what I expect. Leave in three days or I’ll see to it that you’ll never leave.”

Torious takes a step forwards to confront the mage, but Milo turns and pushes both the humans back, placing a small hand on each of their stomachs and holding them at bay. 
“Don’t waste your time. Lets just leave,” says Milo, glaring at each of his companions in turn, “I know where we can get some money together for travels.”
With a final smile, Noristour opens the door behind them with a gesture of his hand. The three heroes walk out reluctantly, herded as they go by a hissing and jumping Xsistass. 

- - - - - - - - - -

As the three adventurers vent their frustrations to each other about being hounded out of Darmshall, Milo remains level headed and suggests returning to the Talagbar mines he recently visited, where he is sure there are more gems like the one he owns. Backing this claim up, Milo says the mines have only recently been revealed due to the melting of a small snow drift covering the entrances, and they can make it there and back within a day’s light. Showing the massive gem to Torious and Thalin, they agree to venture back to the mines to look for more keystones. Each checking their money pouches, the heroes decide to save what little they have for passage away from Darmshall, and simply shelter in a nearby barn.

With a fear of ambush from Lyle Blackrock, Torious suggests leaving before dawn light so as to avoid any kind of commotion that they might cause. With this in mind, the three adventurers sleep fitfully but rise on time to journey to the Talagbar mines. Before they travel, Milo digs out the map that he made of the mines and decides to brief the other two on what to expect.

Milo talks about his travels through the mines for almost the entirety of the five-hour journey, only pausing for Torious to pray in silence to Tyr at first light. The three adventurers are more than ready to get going into the mines when they reach the massive stone doors at mid-day. Eventually the heroes prize the heavy doors open enough to fit humans through, light torches, and advance into the darkness of the Talagbar mines.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle throws the set of keys to the floor with his left hand as the barkeep stammers to apologise for not knowing where the three stayed for the night, although he did give a clue as to where they were heading. With a snarl of dissatisfaction and cradling his bandaged stump, Lyle storms out of The Headless Woman and joins the man in red outside. 

The man in red sits atop a huge crimson stallion which stamps impatiently. Lyle, using his only arm, clambers unsteadily onto a sleek black riding horse before trotting once around his companion, who turns in his saddle and hands Lyle a small leather bag.
“Kill all three, retrieve the staff, then report back to me,” says the man in red, pressing the bag firmly into Lyle’s open palm.
“Use these as you wish.” 
“I’ll finish the mage myself, the Abyss itself won’t know such suffering.” hisses Lyle, his scar twitching erratically.
“No. You’ll do as instructed. Now go.” Answers the man in a commanding tone.

Without another word, the man in red gouges his boots into the stallion’s sides and bolts away in a cloud of dust, heading eastwards. Lyle watches him go before opening the leather pouch and looking at the contents – a handful of black onyx gems, a small scroll, two strange coins with a green mailed fist on one side and a human skull on the other, and a folded sheet with instructions on what to do. Lyle shakes them once in curiosity then guiding his horse slowly around, whispers in its ear and canters Northwards, towards the Talagbar mines.

- - - - - - - - - -

With a careful step, Milo tiptoes into the first antechamber of the Dwarven mines. Milo can feel the shivering, scared form of Isplit curled up in his pocket. Motioning for his companions to follow, the halfling treads carefully across the room and checks the way out, making sure there are no ghosts waiting to pounce. With a sigh of relief he turns back to his friends. The room they stand in would probably have been some sort of guardroom when the Dwarves still mined here. Separating the room almost into two is a thick, partially shattered pane of glass slotted between two heavy posts, one of which has collapsed to the ground. Behind the broken glass are a desk and two chairs, which Thalin carefully makes his way towards and begins to check through.

“And you didn’t check this room at all?” says Torious, looking away from inspecting the thick glass pane and staring at Milo.
“Well no, not really. It’s boring. There’s nothing in here.” Says Milo, twitching eagerly to continue onwards.
“You mean this boring?” says Thalin, holding a small red gem to the torchlight. Milo looks at it once then rolls his eyes.
“They won’t get us any money at all.” Milo says matter-of-factly. With that, he pulls open the second door wider and steps into the corridor beyond, waving his torch like a sword. Torious and Thalin look at each other then leave what they are doing and follow the halfling. As Thalin exits he brushes a hanging spider web with his hand.
“Well, at least they like this place.”

Torious, being the last out, looks back at the broken pane of glass, not understanding what a pane of glass would be used for in a place such as this.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo leads the way through two or three more dusty rooms which were, Milo says, the quarters of the Dwarven miners and hold absolutely nothing of interest. However, searching through a crumbled corner of what seemed to be draws of valuables (which Milo missed on his first trip), Torious smashes open the only locked drawer and withdraws a magnificently crafted pick with a head that looks like some sort of insect. Thalin informs Torious that it is the head of a stirge, and after a moment of concentration, confirms that the pick is magical. As Milo pushes onwards, Torious slings the pick into his belt, not really wanting to discard Justicar just yet.

Reaching the end of a long corridor, Milo darts ahead and runs into a huge chamber then skids to a halt, trying hard to remember the steps he took when he last came here. Thalin pushes into the dimness of the chamber, spitting abruptly as a strand of spider web brushes his face. Searching for definition to the room, Thalin sees no walls are visible beyond the meagre light. After straining to look at Milo’s tattered map in the torchlight, Thalin sighs in exasperation and speaking a simple draconic verse, lights the blade of his scimitar with a brilliant glow, illuminating the entire chamber. 

The chamber is shaped like a semi circle, with the door Thalin just entered from being opposite to three immense stone doors set into the flat edge of the chamber, all of which are closed. The floor is riddled with a matrix of rail tracks that disappear into the thick stone of the three doors, and also into a solid wall to the mage’s left. On the right is a small ring of steps leading to a polished wooden door with a large, circular handle. Closed also. Looking up, Thalin sees the chamber disappears into a mesh of huge spider webs only five or ten feet above him, the webs cover the entirety of the chambers ceiling. A small draft whistles from above.

Milo looks puzzled for a moment, and then turns to Thalin and Torious, as the priest catches up.
“That middle door was open when I came. It was just open. Why is it closed now?” whines Milo, not sure why something in the ancient mines had changed in the short time since he had left. 
Torious stands for a moment then shouts out, pointing to a large lump in the centre of the room, almost completely obscured by the railings. With a cry he leaps over a mine cart and jogs to the centre of the room. Milo bounds alongside the priest to find what new surprise he had uncovered. Thalin, distracted with trying to look for the source of the breeze, sees the running forms of his companions too late.

Milo crouches next to priest and rolls the bundle over. As it turns over, Torious jumps back at the sight of a dwarf face staring back at him. After a moments shock, Torious sees the dwarf is dead, and recovering his wits about himself, the priest looks closer at the deep stab wounds all over the dwarf body, but his fingers are caught suddenly in a dust-thin strand of web leading into the mesh above him.

- - - - - - - - - -

The sword spider tensed its huge form as the first of its webs tingled. Moving closer, the arachnid eased silently into a pouncing position and without even shaking a single strand of its web, crept above the two men and child in absolute silence. Waiting for a moment to strike, the spider followed the metalled man and child as they moved. With no more than the sound of a breath, the sword spider drops from its hiding place and with incredible speed, guides all eight of its chitinous legs towards the back of the metalled man.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious looks up at the last moment, only to see a blur of a huge creature land on his back and sprawl him forwards. 

- - - - - - - - - -

_There was no pain, only the sensation of something running fingers along my back, then a soft push on the spine and a wet snap as something slid through my rib cage, protruding from my chest. 

There was no pain, only a hot spill onto my chest and legs as the life’s blood surged forth, quick to escape the body when it is needed most.

I looked down and saw my death; three blades of bone had tunnelled through me. 

And then the blades withdrew, and there was pain. Such black pain as to swallow you completely, so utterly you can do nothing but shiver in agony. My soul was leased then, and I was taken to Elysium._

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo reacts before Thalin and flips back, drawing his crossbow and screaming for Torious to get up.

Torious lay sliced in a heap, a mesh of blood and bones protruding from his chainmail. His face is blank, but his scars are not extinguished.

With a thunderous scream of arcane words, Thalin draws from terrible sources of dark power and for a flicker of a moment, sees the chamber fill with the souls of dead dwarves, all clawing at the spider. The sword spider, about to pounce at Thalin, cowers back suddenly and scuttles backwards, lashing into thin air with its deadly legs as it retreats. Thalin moves forwards, then steps over Torious’ body, forcing the Spider back. Milo falters for a moment then jumps forwards and fires a crossbow bolt into the spider’s side before throwing his rucksack to the ground, and fumbles for the remaining two bottles that his mother entrusted to him.

With shaking hands, Milo tips one bottle into Torious’ open mouth then in desperation splashes the contents of the second bottle into the gaping wound in his chest. With a squeal of delight from Milo, the potion has immediate effect and the bones that were snapped and shattered begin to realign themselves and the muscles bulge back into place. Transfixed by this, Milo only hears Thalin after the mage has screamed twice already,
“MILO! Take Torious through the side door!” shouts Thalin, still holding the spell as best he can as he talks. With a mighty grunt, Milo heaves Torious onto his back and begins dragging him to the side door. 

Thalin curses again as the spider sprints across the web, causing the spell to lose some potency as Thalin has to turn to keep the spider in his field of view. With a sickening feeling, Thalin watches in defeat as the spider emerges fully from the web and drops silently into the corridor that they originally came in from. The spider stops at a safe distance, its glistening eyes watching the mage with an alien intelligence.

“Get that door open Milo! Now!” Shouts Thalin, risking a look over his shoulder at his halfling companion. Milo throws his weight into the circular door handle again, inching it closer to opening.
“I’m trying… its too heavy!” answers Milo in desperation.
With a final surge of magic, Thalin forces the spider back another few feet before dropping the spell completely, and not looking back, begins to sprint across the huge chamber towards Milo and Torious.

- - - - - - - - - -

As the oppression around it suddenly dies, the sword spider creeps from the tunnel and seeing the man running, launches itself towards the fleeing adventurers. Landing, the spider scuttles forwards to recover its lost meal.

- - - - - - - - - -

With a clatter of metal, Thalin hurls Shard to the floor and not stopping to slow, clasps the handle with both hands and using the momentum from running, spins the handle round in a whir of metal. With a combined thrust, Thalin and Milo spill through the door and onto damp, moss-covered floor. With a scream, Milo looks back and sees the spider about to pounce. Thalin acts quickly and drags Torious through the door as Milo begins to inch the door closed again.

Rolling backwards, Thalin unhitches his crossbow as the sword spider leaps, and with a smooth action releases a bolt into the spider’s cluster of eyes. The spider sprawls short, but suddenly jumps again as Milo forces the door closed. The thump of the spider hitting the door shocks Milo back, but he leaps up and spins the handle closed, locking the sword spider out. With a gasp of utter relief, Milo collapses onto Torious, who promptly sits up and stares around.

Opening his mouth to say something, Torious shuts his mouth again as he realises no words could detail what he just saw.

Breathing heavily, Thalin sits back against the lichen-coated wall and rolls his head to the side, looking down the wide corridor they now sit in. Five small blue-skinned humanoids look back in fear at the three invaders, and dropping their bag of fish in front of them, scream in panic and race back down the corridor to raise the intruder alarm…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 5: The Early Wyrm Catches the Birds*

As the heroes flee from the lair of aquatic goblins and fiendish birdmen, they must confront the mightiest of dragons. But the situation goes from bad to worse as Lyle tracks the heroes down, cutting off their escape.


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## Krellic (Jul 1, 2002)

> Milo slides forward to attack but then pauses and delving into a side pocket on his pouch, grabs a handful of silver coins. Leaping into the air and using what limited goblin language he has learnt, shouts
> “Silver! Silver!” and with a shout of exertion, hurls the coins as high as he can.
> 
> 
> ...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 1, 2002)

- The coin throwing incident was superb, and it worked so well because the Doomguard were, at heart, just greedy cowards plated up in the best armour King Doom would buy for them (Milo's player had divine inspiration I'm sure).

- Lyle is still one of my favourite villains (although the man in red soon becomes a burning thorn in the heroes side) and the players in the campaign speak about him whenever memorable villains are mentioned. And of course, every ice mage needs a nemesis... although Lyle certainly isn't the last.

- Yeah, the party needed a fighter. As the campaign progressed Torious fitted into both the healer and the fighter roles - He is currently a cleric 4, fighter 4, divine champion of Tyr 1 (along with the +1 for being an Aasimar). He's a hard nut to crack, but i try my best  

- When i started writing these accounts, i wanted to avoid saying that this spell was this, and that spell was that and concentrate more on the descriptive side of things (which I hope I've achieved). The spell Thalin cast was Scare: The characters had just levelled up before the mines and hadn't cast anything new yet, so it deserved a special introduction - and it worked just well enough to put off the Sword Spider.

- The next two installments, to be brutally honest, spiral the characters way out of their depth, but they claw back admirably and the showdown with Lyle and his minions is still talked about to this day. 


Thanks for reading so far... as long as there is a continued interest in the stories that the players and myself are telling, then I'll keep on writing - and there is a great deal to be written, so hopefully you're in this for the long run. And as i said before, if anyone has any queries regarding the stories, characters, monsters or anything else, don't hesitate to ask!

The next installment, *Chapter 5: The Early Wyrm Catches The Birds*, will be posted within the next day or so...


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 2, 2002)

I've had a wicked time accessing the boards lately.  The few instances I've been able to get on, it's been read-only... unable to post.  Didn't want you to think I disappeared.

I'm about to start reading Doom's Doom, but break time's almost over... so it's back to work.  Great stuff!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 2, 2002)

The boards have been a little weird (I couldn't update some stories for hours... thought I'd lost them) but thanks for the support and keep reading. 

Chapter 5 is a little shorter than the previous chapters (I'm looking to shorten the chapter sizes somewhat - anyone finding there is too much to read in one go?), and should be posted tonight or tomorrow day (bear in mind that I work on UK time...)


Let me know what you think of the first (but certainly not the last) dragon encounter in Ice, Luck and Honour...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 3, 2002)

Is anyone waiting for the next chapter or should i give people some time to catch up? 

Let me know, otherwise I won't have a clue where you guys are up to (and you're the ones who are reading this after all). And I'd hate to put people off by posting too much. Just let me know (either on this thread or over e-mail).

Chapter 5 will be posted when you guys catch up... (although you have to let me know)


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## johnnygolastly (Jul 3, 2002)

*new chapter..?.......where????*

i am waiting for the new chapter and dont worry i am also on UK time, i think this is excellent writing. please keep it coming. i honestly dont mind how long the chapters are, in fact the longer the better.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 3, 2002)

Well, Chapter 5 took a little longer to write than expected and I need to run it past a friend who acts as an editor to my atrocious tendancy to rant about glints of swords and the sparkle in a young warriors eye... trims it down from fluff to substance when it needs to be.

That aside, the next chapter should be around at about 2 or 3 in the afternoon tomorrow (thursday)... I look forward to seeing what you guys think of it (if it sucks, tell me - my writing can only improve because of it).

Nice to see another Brit on the boards, by the way.


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## Black Bard (Jul 4, 2002)

*Re: new chapter..?.......where????*



			
				johnnygolastly said:
			
		

> *i am waiting for the new chapter and dont worry i am also on UK time, i think this is excellent writing. please keep it coming. i honestly dont mind how long the chapters are, in fact the longer the better. *




I totally agree with Johnny.In fact,I don't mind if they are long,as long as they keep on coming...

By the way,great piece of writing!!!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 4, 2002)

Huzzah! The next chapter is here!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 4, 2002)

[Edit]Edited into past tense on 25th September 2004[Edit]
*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 5: The Early Wyrm Catches The Birds*


Early to Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372


…Breathing heavily, Thalin slumped back against the lichen-coated wall and rolled his head to the side, looking down the wide corridor that they sat in. Five small blue-skinned humanoids gazed back in fear at the three invaders. Wide translucent eyes blinked rapidly in the halflight of the corridor. Dropping their bag of fish in front of them, the creatures emitted a series of loud ‘clicks’ before racing into the next room, and out of sight...

The heroes sat in a broad corridor, almost twenty feet wide but only six foot high. Every inch of wall, ceiling and floor bore a thick carpet of moss. Milo admired the natural blends of colours, the bursts of blue and green reminding him of his father's sporadic painting phases. But that was years ago, and many many miles away.

Watching the five creatures disappear through an entrance heavy with moss, Torious rapidly healed himself, and after a concentrated effort, the broken skin on his chest knitted together. Looking up, Torious saw Milo staring in amazement at the priest’s healing powers. The halfling was distracted by a heavy thud that echoed from the direction that the creatures had escaped. 

Leaving the priest to pick himself up, Milo leapt over the spilled fish and ragged netting towards the entrance, his shortsword drawn. Dariel dug his talons into Thalin’s shoulder to say that there were more to come, and swooped after the halfling, knowing full well what the halfling was capable of on his own.

Using _Erifeci_ as a crutch, Thalin levered himself to his feet then checked that his spell book and components weren’t damaged in the escape from the spider. Satisfied that everything was safe and secure, Thalin stalked over the sodden ground towards the entrance that Milo had disappeared through.

Torious crouched to his knees,
“Why was I not taken?” prayed the aasimar quietly, “must I die and die again until I am worthy of your favour… father?”
Not waiting for the inevitable silence to his questions, Torious stood and gripping _Justicar_ in one hand and his holy symbol in the other, followed the mage.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stepping cautiously into the room, Milo’s eyes swooped over the cluttered room. A carpet of moss extended over the floor and walls, hiding moulded lumps of what could have been desks and chairs in the corner of the room. However, one wall was completely untouched by the spongy growth. An open wooden door stood creaking across from the halfling, similar in craftsmanship to the door now holding the sword spider at bay. Through the opening was a long, cylindrical passage with an even thicker bed of moss lining the floor, leading to an open circular wooden door.

Torious let a shout out as he spotted the five creatures heave the door shut at the end of the moss-floor corridor. Before the priest could even move, a small metallic chime issued from the door as the handle spun clockwise once, then stopped.
“Locked” stated Torious dryly.
“Well, there might be another way out” said Thalin in reply, warily glancing back towards the sword spider door.

Torious and Thalin began to check over the untouched wall, ignoring the moss-ridden tunnel for now. 
“It’s magic. The plant growth won’t touch it,” said Thalin over his shoulder, not wanting to divert his attention from the stone work in front of him.
Taking a calculated risk, Thalin reached to touch the bare stone but his hand hit an invisible resistance inches from the wall. 

A sudden, deep, disembodied voice echoed a series of dwarven words through the room. Torious instinctively dropped to a crouch. Milo leapt backwards from the table top, yelping as Isplit digs his claws through his shirt. Thalin began to draw an arcane rune in the air as Dariel flattened himself to the floor. 

Milo’s eyes closed for a second as he searched back to his maligned childhood dwarven lessons.
“Full. Locked. Departed.” said Thalin and Torious in unison. Milo looked dejected for a moment then sprung forwards and went to touch the wall. The same effect.
“Full. Locked. Departed.” said Milo as the echoes died down, sticking his tongue out at his companions as he skipped backwards and began to look at the moss covered stacks in the corners of the room.

Thalin suggested the wall was some kind of door and really shouldn’t be challenged further. Any defensive magic would probably still be active. Leaving Milo and Torious checking the sodden stacks, Thalin ventured into the cylindrical corridor.  

Milo found nothing more than two tarnished gems amid the moss, and already thoroughly bored, went to join Thalin. Torious cast back a layer of moss with _Justicar_ to reveal a stonework trough, where small luminescent fish swam lazily.
“I think this is a storeroom for those creatures,” said Torious, more to himself than to his companions. Dariel landed next to the priest and hopping along the trough rim, began to pick out a choice meal.

“Torious! Milo! Come and look at this,” shouted Thalin from the cylinder room. Torious stalked in and crouched next to the mage, whilst Milo darted further down the tunnel. Thalin carefully withdrew a small silver hunting knife from the depths of the moss, “There are holes all over the floor.” Thalin said, his thoughts suddenly racing towards an answer, “It’s a drainage system”. The mage’s eyes widened and he swung around just in time to see Milo hop up and grab the circular handle at the end of the corridor.
“Milo! You fool…”

But the mage's words were drowned out as a far off thunderous rush of noise filled the passageway. Milo sprung back with a scared shout towards his companions. With a wooden thud the entrance door to the passage way slammed tightly shut, trapping the heroes in. Thalin watched in horror as a thin line of water trickled from a hidden vent, then moments later an explosion of water thundered into the chamber. Torious roared something over the thunder of the water, but could not be heard by Thalin or Milo… _Where was Milo?_ Torious searched urgently for the halfling, but only saw himself and Thalin on one side of the cascade of water that was quickly filling the room. 

Suddenly Torious spotted Milo, the unconscious halfling surfaced for a moment before being violently dragged under again. Handing Thalin his sword, Torious took two powerful steps then plunged into the swelling water, which has already reached chest height. Thalin watched the shadow of Torious vanish under the torrent of white. Dropping _Justicar_ and using _Erifeci_ as a focus, Thalin discarded the painful feelings of separation from his familiar and began to draw the Weave around him, channelling it into the magical door.

- - - - - - - - - -

The five blue-skinned goblins gurgled in agreement as they tilted their heads against the outside of the door. With a smooth dialect of snaps, clicks and burrs, they quickly came to a decision, then with dextrous ease, climbed the lichen coated ladder towards the circle of sunlight above.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious planted his legs onto the bottom of the passage way and with a grunt of effort, broke the surface of the water, holding the unconscious Milo above him. Drawing on his powers, Torious filled the halfling with restorative energy. Seconds later Milo spluttered to consciousness. With a shout of defiance, Torious edged himself into the path of the surging water, shielding the halfling from the vent. With a roar of exertion, Torious pushed Milo sideways to safety then dove after him, taking a sudden rush of speed as the water forced him outwards.

Thalin drove _Erifeci_ harder into the door as the water splashed over his head. Focusing his mind, he searched for the correct incantation. As each verse came into his head, words were dashed away by the heaving water. Suddenly the water covered his ears and the chaotic sounds blended into a single, steady roar. Forcing all other thoughts out of his mind, Thalin screamed the arcane words as they came to him, sending a stream of bubbles in front of his eyes. With a quick draw back, then a violent thrust of _Erifeci_, the door groaned then swung outwards. Thalin, Torious and Milo spilled onto a rusted circular grate. 

With a screeching whine, the water level abruptly dropped as the holes in the floor opened. Underneath them, the water fell into a deep shaft. Opening his eyes as the water drained around him, Milo gazed upwards to the circle of light at the top of the shaft. 

- - - - - - - - - -

The five creatures watched intently for a moment, monitoring the three adventurers as they picked themselves up from the floor. Clicking hurriedly between each other, they all screeched as a crossbow bolt buzzed angrily out of the shaft and high into the afternoon air. Jumping to their webbed feet, the blue-skinned goblins turned and plunged into their lake, cutting swift arcs towards the far side. 

- - - - - - - - - -

With a clatter, _Justicar_ landed on the ground beside the shaft entrance. Moments later Torious had pulled himself upwards and rolled onto the stony surface. Dariel swooped above him, glad to be in flight again. An icy wind cuts into the priest as he stood slowly, surveying the terrain about him.

Immediately ahead of Torious was a brilliant clear lake that lapped gently against a sheer cliff on one side and a shingled shore on the other. The azure water and expanse of open sky assaulted his senses. With a sinking feeling, Torious saw that the shores of the lake bordered onto a towering lip of smoothed rock on every side, creating a natural enclosure in the mountain side. _Or perhaps a prison_, thought Torious.

Milo dragged himself onto the rocky edge and gazed out over the lake. He pointed a shivering finger at the throng of blue goblins swarming on the far shore.
“Looks like we’re guests of honour,” said Milo dryly as he unsheathed _Vampire_. Torious narrowed his eyes at Milo’s new blade for a moment, before looking to the opposite shore. The tip of a small tower stood amid a curious pattern of triangular craters that dominated the small beach.
“There might be a way out, it could well be some sort of gate house,” said Thalin, hoping that the sword spider would not have to be faced again.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle slowly wrapped the reins of his horse around the branch with his remaining arm. With a final twist of the leather the horse was secured, from bolting away yes, but not from any goblins drawn by the scent. However, he knew taking the horse into the mines would be impossible. With a final pat on the horses nose, Lyle unhitched his sword and gilded hunting horn, then slid them into his belt next to the small leather pouch.

Stopping at the shadowed doorway, Lyle dug a small pair of metal goggles from his pocket and placed them securely over his eyes. Turning towards the mines, a lonely dwarf spirit drifted through the ragged rock face and stopped to look at Lyle with hollow eyes. Using the powers within the lenses he now wore, Lyle glanced at the ghostly figure without any fear, for the spirit was dead, and he was not. With a thin smile at the thought of what pains he would inflict on that bastard of an ice mage, Lyle Blackrock slipped through the doorway and faded into the haunted darkness within.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo dropped onto the shingled beach as another javelin clattered a few feet to his left. The Aarakocra swooped low again, but turned too late as Torious swept _Justicar_ through the air. The blow tore the birdman’s wing clean off in a flare of red feathers. With a shrill squawk, the feathered body spiralled into the lake where it floundered for a moment before suddenly being snatched under by a dozen or more small blue hands.

Thalin leapt the last slippery foothold and hopped onto the sanded edge of one of the craters. Unslinging his crossbow from his shoulder, he found a foothold in the sand. The mage levelled his crossbow at one of the circling Aarakocras and snapped off a shot. Three javelins returned fire, but all flew uselessly wide. 

Milo stood and looked behind him at the rising tower they were edging towards. Its windows were bordered up and half of the tower roof was collapsed. The harsh wind didn’t reach this enclave next to the tower, and was surprisingly peaceful. A high-pitched scream alerted the halfling to the diving birdman in just enough time to shift sideways as the Aarakocra landed with a wet thud into the sand.

Torious leapt from the last foothold and twirled _Justicar_ through the air as he landed, severing the birdman's head from its body as it tried to take to the air again. The decapitated body continued to glide for a moment then plummeted into a crater in the shallows of the lake. The water goblins advanced towards the dead body on their hands and knees, not wanting to incur the wrath of the bird killers. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle crouched to the floor and examined the tread mark before him, with a nod of recognition he sneered at the three dwarf spirits who had come to watch his progress. Lyle stood, and despite being used to such things, angrily swatted at the newfound followers with his sword (which passed right through the apparitions). With a snarl of annoyance, Lyle got up quickly and exitted towards the main chamber with a swift stride. Brushing through a spider web as it caught on his face, plans of attack began to flow through Lyle’s mind, all ending in the grisly fate of that damned ice mage.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin guided his hand through the air, forcing his will into the minds of as many of the Aarakocras as he could, soothing them into unconsciousness. With a series of subdued screeches, half a dozen birdmen plummeted from the air and landed with heavy splashes into the water. The remainder of the goblins on the far shore eagerly dove in and cut swift lines towards the sleeping bodies.

With a cacophony of squeals and squawks, the remainder of the birdmen circled away angrily and fluttered back to a grassy ledge on the cliff face. Milo shook his fist at the fleeing birdmen as he removed a javelin that dangled from his backpack, shouting his revenge for hurting his mother’s travel bag.

Suddenly, the water goblins on both the near shore and the ones dragging the birdmen bodies down, turned and clicking hurriedly to each other, all dove downwards and disappeared into the depths of the lake. Watching this with a smile, Milo nodded at the effect that his warnings of halfling-wrath had on the goblins, as well as the birdmen.

Torious had already stepped up to the tower door and was motioning for the mage and halfling to join him. Holding his hand for silence, Torious listened intently for a moment then held a single finger in the air and pointed inside.
“One?” said Milo quickly, hoping he could beat the mage to this puzzle’s answer.
Torious looked astonished at the halfling’s lack of tact then quickly barged the door down, not wanting to give whatever was inside more time to prepare than it already had.

A middle-aged man in polished scale male stood up in a rush, surprised by his visitor’s entrance etiquette. Torious skidded to a stop as he saw the man.
The man cleared his throat and introduced himself as if he were a host of a dinner party, “Hello friends. I am Zalaznir, I do hope you come in peace”. His wavy brown hair swayed as he spoke. Placing his longsword against the wall, he offered his hand to Torious.

Torious looked warily at Zalaznir before accepting and shaking his extended hand. Thalin and Milo watched the man carefully as they stepped slowly into the tower. Its walls were dirty and slick with lichen, and a rotten stairway led upwards to the broken tower above.

“So you have travelled through the mines, yes?” asked Zalaznir, now directing his questions at Thalin with a disarming smile, “Strange that you have brought such a young child along. Well, I suppose it is quite a lovely place if you look in the right places.”
Milo went to correct the man; not wanting to be thought of as a child by anyone at all, least of all a strange old man sitting in a broken tower. But Thalin cut in before Milo could reply,
“So what are you doing… you don’t live here, do you?” asked Thalin, motioning to surrounding lichen.
“Oh certainly not. I am a wandering paladin of the holy order of Lathander, and have tracked the greatest of evils to this very lake!”
“What, the goblins?” replied Thalin, throwing a sideways glance at Milo, who began laughing into the hem of his shirt.
“No, not the goblins. I am here to challenge the mightiest of dragons to single combat, so as to prove myself to the Morning Lord,” said Zalaznir proudly, and in complete seriousness.
Thalin and Milo suddenly realised the reason for the imprisoned lake and the unusual craters. Spinning in horror, they saw Torious outside of the tower, staring into the sky.

Torious stood, his mouth lolling open in awe as a mighty red-skinned wyrm, easily more than three hundred feet in length, circled once with a single beat of its huge wings, then landed on the shoreline with an earth shuddering thud. As it landed, a wounded birdman was pressed deep into a fresh crater with a stab of a huge talon. Its immense size almost filled the entire beach; the heaving weight of the creature was adorned with hundreds of battle scars. The grand wyrm snaked its head around with a wicked snarl of amusement, seeing that the tower has drawn another visitor.

Thalin and Milo scrambled backwards in a panic, a fear gripping them so pure and white that it numbed everything else to shadow. Dariel and Isplit both dropped to the floor, unconscious. Pressing themselves deep into the far corner of the tower, the two companions could only watch, soundlessly shivering, as Zalaznir lifted his sword up onto his shoulder with a sharp sigh of exertion. Testing that his shield was strapped on securely, the paladin strode confidently out towards the colossal dragon. 

The dragon’s mouth pulled back in a ripple of muscles, revealing a deadly fanged smirk as Zalaznir stepped out of the tower. Titling his head back to look the dragon eye to eye, Zalaznir shouted out with not a trace of fear,
“Klauth, I come here to destroy you. I, and my new found companions challenge you.” 
Zalaznir stuck his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to where Torious stood with his mouth hanging open…


To be continued...


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## Krellic (Jul 4, 2002)

Ouch..!


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## Enkhidu (Jul 5, 2002)

Too... much... information. Must... read... more... immediately...


Keep up the good work!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 5, 2002)

> Too... much... information. Must... read... more... immediately...




I'd lend you my goggles of speed reading +3, but Cormyr charge abyssal postage fees... 

The next installment (Duel of Shadows), will be finished in about 2 days time (and then maybe another day for editing)... hope you can catch up in time. 

I'm trying to keep a regular chapter posting about once every 3 or 4 days... shout at me if this is too much.

Spider


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## johnnygolastly (Jul 5, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *
> 
> I'd lend you my goggles of speed reading +3, but Cormyr charge abyssal postage fees...
> 
> ...




(shouts): THIS ISNT ENOUGH, MORE, TYPE MORE, PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.........BOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 5, 2002)

[Spider looks up from his writing, and seeing a snarling person shouting at him to write faster, waves a hand in the air and speaks an arcane verse. 

With a dull ripple around johnnygolastly's head, all is silence (targeted - DC unimaginable). Spider gets back to writing.]

  2 days then


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 8, 2002)

If you checked on this post and were looking for an update, I'm sorry, chapter 6 has taken a little longer to write than I thought (primarily because today I DM'd the latest Fire, Fate and Shadow chapter and planning that has taken some time).

The next account will be on these boards by tomorrow.


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## Krellic (Jul 9, 2002)

I'll look forward to it, you almost have me tempted to commute to Liverpool...


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## freedoms_edge (Jul 9, 2002)

> - Yeah, the party needed a fighter. As the campaign progressed Torious fitted into both the healer and the fighter roles - He is currently a cleric 4, fighter 4, divine champion of Tyr 1 (along with the +1 for being an Aasimar). He's a hard nut to crack, but i try by best




Keep trying Spider......


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 9, 2002)

_Edit: Before you read this, chapter six consists of four parts because it was way too long as one post. So grab yourself a coffee and set aside half an hour, there's a lot to read! And now, without further ado..._


[Edit]Edited into past tense on 19th September 2004[Edit]
*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 6: A Duel of Shadows*
Part 1 of 4


Early to Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372


…The dragon’s mouth pulled back in a ripple of muscles, revealing a deadly fanged smirk as Zalaznir stepped out of the tower. Titling his head back to look Klauth eye to eye, Zalaznir shouted out with not a trace of fear,
“Klauth, I come here to destroy you. I, and my new found companions challenge you.” 
Zalaznir stuck his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to where Torious stood with his mouth hanging open…

- - - - - - - - - -

Klauth watched the man strut out of the tower and shout his absurd challenge. Curling his mouth into a razor sharp snarl, Klauth laughed. The tower shuddered, sending a small shower of mortar to the sand below. With merely a step forward, Klauth planted his right claw onto the armoured man, folding the upraised longsword onto itself as the man desperately struck upwards, screaming this and that to Lathander. 

Klauth grinned, shrill screams vibrating up through his body as the man was pressed further into the sand. A dull, wet snap buckled the right leg of Zalaznir into two as Klauth shifted his weight forwards. 

The man under his foot continued hollering in pain as Klauth watched a second man, this one with blond hair and a broken chainmail shirt spattered with blood, advance slowly forwards from the shadows of the tower doorway. In a steady voice, belying his fear, the man begins to speak.
“Dragon. Free that man, he is no threat to you.”
Thinking for a moment, Klauth responded, "*No.*"
The man standing before him wavered, then placed a foot behind him to steady himself from falling.
“Dragon. I am aasimar, descendant of Tyr the even handed and slayer of…”
"*I know what you are. But it seems you are trying to prove that to yourself, despite all you know.*" said Klauth with a wicked smile. 

With a heavy sucking sound, Klauth moved his foot out of the fresh crater to reveal Zalaznir underneath. The man screamed as he leaned forwards to hold his crushed leg, but is flung back down as Klauth balanced a single talon over the man, holding him down once again. Zalaznir screamed at the aasimar,
“Help me. Oh Lathander please, no. Help me!” his hand stretched towards Torious.
"*Aasimar, here is your choice.*" Klauth said evenly, coming to a decision. "*Either this man dies, or you die. It is up to you, you can be his saviour or your own.*"

- - - - - - - - - -

Dariel’s wings beat once, spinning himself about on the tower floor. Thalin, shaking violently, and with great effort, dropped his body sideways so that he could no longer see the great red out of the tower door. Immediately, the blinding white fear shuddered out of him and was replaced by a twisting pain to escape. Picking Dariel up, as he began to flutter to consciousness, Thalin pushed the fear stricken Milo sideways with the butt of Erifeci. Milo shivered as he fell, and still unable to speak through fear, crouched into the shadowed corner of the tower, stroking Isplit like a child’s doll.

Thalin quickly began to think rationally again, mentally cursing himself for being so weak in the moments when his strength was needed most. Looking around the tower, and being anxious not to stray into view of the dragon, kept to the shadowed edge. Well aware of dragons hunting abilities, particularly hearing and sight, Thalin motioned towards Milo to stay where he was. Looking for something to escape by, Thalin carefully lifted a crate, making sure not to make a sound and placed it to one side. Looking back at the empty space, Thalin shuddered with relief as the wooden slats of a trapdoor were revealed. Now wishing that he had learnt his spell of soundlessness, Thalin lifted the iron handle of the trapdoor and began to lift.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle sprinted back down the tunnel, his boots thudding on the stone flagstones as he ran. Looking back, the sword spider leapt from the web and landed with only a patter of taps as its legs touched the ground. Leaping forwards, Lyle dived into the dwarven sleeping quarters and spinning quickly, threw his weight into the door to close it. With only inches to go, a chitinous sabre slid into the crack, holding the door open. The soft scraping of the spiders legs sliding over stone as it began to push made Lyle quickly alter his course of action. Rolling onto his side, and roaring in pain as he used his stump to push against the door, Lyle withdrew his shortsword and drove it into the flailing spider leg. The leg disappeared, scraping back through the gap in the door which was quickly slammed and locked by Lyle, who sat back against the door and began to think if his revenge was really worth all this.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Take my life.” said Torious. The words are said quicker than any other creature the dragon had faced with the same choice.
Klauth, already having decided his course of action to either answer, snaked his head down and ripped Zalaznir's head from his body. With the flailing torso in his maw, Klauth swung his head leisurely to the side, sending half of the dead man sailing across the lake and into the cliff face with a damp thud. On their ledges of grass, the watching aarakocras screeched in unison and dove to gather what remains they could. 

As the legs of the man twitched violently, Klauth began to speak before the aasimar could react.
"*You talk of sacrifice, but you do not know of what you speak. If you were to truly martyr yourself for that pathetic man, would I even let him live after your head has been ripped from your shoulders and your body lies a smoking husk?*"
With a sly smile, Klauth watched the pious man before him falter for a moment. The dragon continued, 
"*What would you achieve? Glory in Tyr?*" 
Klauth raised his head and laughed deeply, shaking loose stones from the cliff face.
"*You are a fool indeed, and you would be a dead fool were it not for your blind devotion.*" Klauth paused for a moment and swooped his head to the lake and drank deeply. The aasimar stood unmoving, his face blank.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin lifted the trapdoor open as he heard the dragon talking to Torious, hoping the dragon’s own voice would mask the noise made. Carefully, Thalin eased the trapdoor against the wall and motioned at Milo to move over. The halfling, having calmed down considerably, nodded and chose his moment wisely to jump across the open doorway. Hearing Klauth laugh, the halfling tumbled across the opening silently and padded to a halt next to the open trapdoor. With a nod, Thalin slid himself over the edge and lowered himself until only the tips of fingers were showing. Milo watched silently as the fingers disappeared then a split second later a small splash below. Not wanting to be alone in the tower with only Isplit, who was still unconscious and probably dreaming of she-weasels, Milo dropped carefully over the edge without holding on and landed in a foot of freezing water.

Whispering to Milo that spell casting might well alert Klauth to their position, Thalin peered into the darkness of the room that they now stood in. It seemed that the two shaking heroes had dropped into a shallow pool indented in the centre of the room. Sniffing, the stench of algae and stale fish was overwhelming and Milo gagged as he went to get out of the trench and pressed his hand into a diseased fish corpse.

Hauling himself out of the stagnant water, Thalin saw a small stone dwarf figurine at the edge of the water holding a transparent rod, which lightly touched onto the dust-strewn surface. In the half gloom, the room is slightly larger than the tower width above it, and had a set of double stone doors set in the wall immediately in front of the mage. 

Milo pulled himself out finally, having scraped the dead fish from his hand with a disgusted look on his face. The halfling crouched next to the figurine in the available light and smoothed his hand over the glass rod leading into the water, his hand came away with a singed edge of what looked like a square of leather, or perhaps burnt fur. Seeing nothing more interesting about the figurine, Milo crept over to Thalin, who was pushing the stone doors open slowly. As the doors creaked open, a murky blue light filtered through, bathing the heroes’ faces in an azure glow. Looking inside, Milo’s eyes fired up with curiosity as he saw, in the centre of the glowing room, a rail track leading through another set of heavy doors and upon that track sat a strange metal and wood contraption about the size of a large boar. 

Stepping in slowly, Milo looked in awe as he saw the contraption appeared to be an underwater submersible, with a dwarf sized seat visible through the thick glass. At the fore of the craft were a pair of little claws, although Milo couldn't think what for. Without a word of encouragement, the pair of adventurers prized open the cockpit and clambered in, just managing to fit a human and a halfling into the small space. Milo squirmed suddenly as Dariel flapped his wings in the halfling’s face. Milo shot his limbs out in all directions, pressing his knee against a small lever as he shouted a curse at Thalin’s familiar. 

With a grinding noise, the doors that the tracks led through slid open, letting in a blast of water, which began to flood the basement of the tower. With a squeal of brakes that had not been used for over fifty years, the Apparatus of Kwalish rolled into momentum.

- - - - - - - - - -

Klauth lifted his head, water spilling from his jaws as he turned back to the aasimar. 
"*Now leave. And discard you martyrdom here, for it will achieve you no glory, only death. Now hurry on little man and follow your creeping companions.*"

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious turned and walked, his mind thumping with the words that the dragon spoke. His thoughts reeling, the only words which emerged clear from the maelstrom were _Now Leave_. 

Before Torious could douse the blaze raging in his head, he had already climbed back up the footholds and stood on the edge of the laddered shaft leading back to the airlock below. As the thoughts finally begin to filter from his mind, Torious turned in time to see Klauth sat up his hind legs and kick forwards like a cat. Spreading his immense wings, Klauth circled in the air.

Torious saw Klauth make a slow, lazy circle as the aarakocras began to drag and fumble the sodden red torso of Zalaznir up the cliff face, tearing chunks from the paladin as they pulled him towards their nests. Klauth completed his slow circle towards the cliff face and sucked in deeply before moments later hurling forth a searing blast of white-hot fire that rolled off the jagged stone in an avalanche of surging flame. Klauth ascended slowly, letting the rising blaze soothe across his stomach as he passed through it and placing his back legs onto the cliff edge, pushed forwards again, soaring high into the sky. 

As the blast died and the flames pealed upwards in a broil of smoke and heat, a fine shower of dust settled slowly to the surface of the lake. Torious gazed coldly once again at the dragons choice of searing justice, then turned and began to descend back into the mines.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 9, 2002)

Part 2 of 4 


Thalin, Milo, Dariel and Isplit all sat hunched in silence as the aqualish made its steady course across the bed of the lake. At certain points sediment had covered the tracks, but the aqualish seemed quite content to work without the rails. The four travellers could do nothing but stare at the shadowy bulk of Klauth sitting in the shallows, his tail slowly swaying from side to side. 

A moment of chaos ensued as Klauth dipped his head into the lake to drink and watched the contraption pass inches in front of his nose, Dariel had screamed and begun to fly in the enclosed space as the remaining occupants whirled into a frenzy of trying to press themselves as far away from the steaming snout of the dragon as possible. Klauth only watched the aqualish trundle past slowly with nonchalance, before rearing his head back out to resume his talk with Torious. 

As the aqualish neared the end of the lake, the rails took a sharp turn and descended into a dark rift, where the aqualish flickered on a pair of dull beams that illuminated the sharp channel of rocks before them. Turning a last corner, a great set of stone double doors emerged into view and opened slowly, letting a rush of water past the approaching aqualish. With a shiver-inducing screech the submersible slowed and then shuddered to a halt in the centre of a second azure room, which had an immense metal door in the opposite wall. 

The two adventurers and their familiars sat in content silence as the doors closed and the water drained away into a pool in the centre, but this one without a dwarf statuette. After a minute or two the water had lowered enough to open the aqualish cockpit without risk of flooding the interior. Stepping out and slowly working away a painful cramp in his leg as the cold water sluiced about his boots, Thalin looked about the lichen-free room. Making a quick calculation in his mind, the mage took a step over to the metallic door and began to look for a release switch. Milo patted the contraption on the side, thanking it for safe passage. As he did, his fingers ran into a carved stone handprint just below the cockpit latch.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious pushed open the second door and exited the moss-floored airlock. As he stepped into the space, an inconsistent chime rang through the room repeatedly from an unknown source. Torious stood for a moment, then unslung Justicar and stepped up to the metallic wall that had shouted dwarven words when he touched it last time. Pressing his fingers up against the invisible barrier, the dwarven voice called out, but this time with different words.
“Drained. Locked. Arrived.”
Torious answered immediately, hoping his words would work.
“Unlock… Open.”
The door immediately separated at a seamless crack at head height and its two halves disappeared, one into the floor, the other into the ceiling at a slow pace. Torious eased his grip on his sword as Thalin, Milo and their familiars, all unhurt, stood in surprise on the other side.

The three adventurers quickly interrogated Torious on what was said by the dragon but the aasimar revealed only that Zalaznir was killed and he was freed. The party seemed to accept this, although Thalin noticed the aasimar fumble as he lied for probably the first time in his life, but didn't mention the slip up. As they all settled and discussed the dragon, Torious became alert to a distant and faint pouring noise of water. Searching this out, the aasimar calculated that there must be water ducts running in the walls of the mines, but for what purpose he could not tell.

As his companions swapped stories, Milo crept back over to the aqualish, which he looked over. With a grunt of exertion, Milo tried to push the contraption from the tracks so he could ride it through the mines, but to no avail. Looking around in desperation, Milo saw a small shelf on the wall, which strangely had no watermarks on the inside. Investigating further, the halfling saw a heavy brown glove, untouched by the water. Reaching through without even a thought of wardings or glyphs, the halfling snatched the glove and ran back to the aqualish, hoping his thinking on this was right. Not looking behind him, the halfling didn’t notice a bright spark of electricity as it arked from one side of the shelf to the other.

Thalin looked up abruptly as a heavy slosh of water rumbled in the ducts then a muffled thunder from the sword spider room echoed through the corridors. The mage looked at Torious, but he just shrugged as he laced his ragged chainmail together.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle jarred his head up as a dull rumbling is heard from the large chamber, after a minute it stopped and all was silent again. Holding his head against the door, Lyle held his breath to hear any further sound. But there was nothing.

Lyle stood up slowly, cradling his weeping stump. Lyle fished awkwardly into the leather pouch, removing a handful of black onyx gems. With a stern look, and a plan forming in his mind, Lyle readjusted his goggles and headed towards a vacant wall in the corner of the room. The ghosts that had congregated in the corner of the room stopped clawing desperately at the stonewall and watched the man in black as he strode over. Sneering at the ghosts, he readjusted his grip on his sword. Then stepping back once, Lyle drove his shortsword into the loose mortar of the wall, and began to hack towards the hidden burial room of the dwarven miners.

- - - - - - - - - -

With a plan formed to re-enter the sword spider room, Torious stepped silently forward and listened at the thick wood door. Hearing nothing he shrugged and motioned to Milo who stood confused for a moment, then remembering his part in this plan, skipped back into the chamber behind them and scooped his hand into the cold water of the trough. Emerging back into the corridor, Milo held a placid fish in each hand, and grinning with enthusiasm, nodded at Torious to open the door.

With dull scrape, the door opened and Milo quickly darted forwards and hurled the fish into the dim chamber as far as he could. Torious opened the door fully and stood ready. Thalin let the final word of his arcane verse hang in the air. Milo rubbed his hands on his trousers before completing his part of the plan by waving his hands in the air and speaking a word to no obvious effect, then levelled his crossbow at the centre of the room. 

Watching with eager eyes, Milo grinned in pleasure as the fish slowly began to be dragged in erratic lines by his invisible helper, whom the halfling had kindly named Servant-For-Milo. Huddled in the entrance to the large chamber, the heroes awaited the spider.

After a minute of standing, a glazed shadow hovered in the depths of the web and without a sound the sword spider dropped from its silken perch to expertly skewer the two fish as they slid over the ground. 

The three adventurers leapt to the attack. Torious pounced forwards, and hitting the ground running, screamed an almighty “FOR TYR!!!” as he charged at the spider.
Thalin spoke the final word and once again his cloak billowed forwards to release two icy shards which streaked with unerring accuracy into the spiders eyes, glazing the arachnids vision with a layer of crackling ice.
Milo shot, but his missile strayed from the target and whistled into the darkness of a newly opened section in the main room. Milo noted this with interest but shook his curiosity aside, and seeing Thalin leap towards the spider with _Shard_ in his hand, followed as quick as he could to help his companions.

The spider lurched backwards as Torious screamed again, and in a holy fury swung _Justicar_ through three of the spider’s seven legs. Torious has barely a moment to reason why the spider would be missing a leg as the spider turned lightning fast and drove two raised legs at Torious. Turning one aside with his sword, and rolling with the second as it scraped into his shoulder guard, Torious tumbled sideways to cut off the spiders escape. 

With a warbling shriek, Milo leapt through the air and sending a shudder through the spider as he landed on its back, raised _Vampire_ and plunged it down. The blade bit deep, but Milo didn’t notice as tiny points of ivory shot backwards from the blade hilt into his hand and the spider's blood began to be pumped into his own. 

Thalin crouched low to strike through more of the spider’s legs, but his scimitar screeched off of the tough chitin and had no effect.

Not anticipating the next move of the spider, Torious stood ready to defend but instead the spider stepped backwards, piercing Thalin through the thigh with a chitin blade. Milo heard the scream of the mage and using his knees to grip the spiders back, sheathed Vampire, then pulled a small wooden toy from his pocket and scrunched it into his newfound glove. Closing his eyes, Milo punched downwards with his gloved hand into the wound that Vampire opened. With a squelching sound, Milo opened his fist then tumbled backwards and landed perfectly, balancing himself on a rail track.

With a sudden wet whooshing sound, the miniaturised aqualish expands to full size inside of the spider and exploded out of the abdomen in a shower of blood and spider flesh. 

The spider shivers once, its legs scraping desperately at the gut-strewn aqualish, then it stopped and its remaining legs slowly curled upwards. With a last spasm, the sword spider died. 

Milo leapt into the air and whooped a victory cry, but is met with disbelieving glances from Torious and Thalin. Milo, happy to have trumped his companions for once, stepped triumphantly through the spider entrails and pressed his hand to the side of the aqualish. With an odd popping sound, the contraption shrunk to the size of a child’s toy in Milo’s gloved hand. Grinning from ear to ear, Milo placed the submersible in his pocket and strutted across the rail tracks to investigate the newfound opening in the chamber.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hearing the sounds of the combat, and knowing his revenge was close, Lyle placed the last of the onyx gems into the skulls of the dwarven bodies. Stepping back through the scattered ground which he unearthed the bones from; Lyle admired his handiwork. Ignoring the ethereal clawing of the enraged spirits as they slid harmlessly through him, Lyle withdrew the scroll and practiced the verses silently in his head before clearing his throat and voicing the dark words haltingly, his voice untrained for such pronunciation.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin, shaking away the surprise at Milo’s new toy, stood unsteadily with his wounded leg. Torious immediately crouched to heal the mage, 
“Wait. I only need enough to walk, save your powers,” said Thalin, gritting his teeth as he felt the flesh knit back together only enough to walk.
“As you say.” Torious said, checking the leg was stable enough before standing and watching Thalin take a few steps before turning and following Milo through the now opened western wall, where the rail tracks previously disappeared into.

Milo tiptoed at the end of rail tracks, balancing precariously on the edge of a rock grinder set ten feet deep in the stonework floor. Its huge metal teeth, used to crush excavated rock, stood unmoving and layered with a thick dust. Torious and Thalin come to stand next to the halfling and looked downwards through the teeth to a mound of rock shards about twenty feet below the grinder. Milo grew instantly bored at the unmoving mechanism and gazed about the rest of the large room.

The rail tracks ended in loops at the edge of the grinder, presumably so rock from carts could be tipped in easily, his eyes following the tracks round, Milo saw a small door in the corner with a thick pane of glass next to it overlooking the grinder. The halfling shook with uncontrollable curiosity thinking of what treasures a warden’s office might contain, and with a deft leap over the swirling rail tracks, landed next to the door and finding it locked, pulled himself up to the thick window and gazed in. Peering in, Milo saw what he thought might be possible, and quickly dropped back down and began to pick the dwarven lock.

Whilst Milo began to break into the office, Torious found a stone lever, which, with a terrible grating sound, activated the grinder. Thalin jumped back as the sound shuddered through the chamber and watched for a moment before Torious pushed the lever back down and halted the slow spinning of the immense cogs.

- - - - - - - - - -

In the midst of speaking the arcane verses, Lyle snapped his head up as a sound rumbled from the large chamber, then died. Realising the distraction has thrown his momentum; Lyle read the next verse speedily to keep pace with the bass thrum of the magic that now coursed through the air.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo shouted a victory cry as he finally sprung the lock with a thick metallic click. Looking back over his shoulder and grinning once again, Milo pulled the large door open. Thalin turned to look at the elated halfling, only to shout a warning just in time,
“Move!”
Milo instinctively ducked as a huge gauntleted hand swung inches over his head. Milo skidded backwards towards his companions.

With its armour clinking, a giant metal clad dwarf stepped slowly from the doorway.
“Iron golem!” shouted Thalin, his voice reverberating from the stone walls.

The golem stepped dauntingly onto the chamber floor and took slow, inevitable steps towards the three intruders. Suddenly a plan sprung in Thalin’s mind and grabbing Torious and Milo by the arm, manoeuvred his companions to the other side of the grinder pit. 
“Milo! The grinder!” shouted Torious, catching onto Thalin’s plan.
Milo is way ahead of this however, and the crossbow bolt pinned the hand of the lever into ‘on’ as Torious shouted his instruction.
“This had better work!” yelled Milo, over the ‘thump thump’ of the golem footsteps.

The three adventurers watched in anticipation as the golem reached the far edge of the grinder and without a thought, placed his next step over the gap and with a thunderous crash fell into the revolving teeth of the grinder. Seconds later, the onlookers covered their ears in pain as a bone-shaking metal screech screamed from the grinder as the teeth locked against the golems huge form and halted the turning of the cogs. 

Its arms stretched to the sky as it grasped towards the intruders, the golem was stuck fast.

- - - - - - - - - -

With a dread creaking, the skeletons bones began to slide and roll back into place. Looking in fascination, Lyle finished the last of the verses and watched in morbid amusement as the dwarven skeletons stood awkwardly, as if dragged up by some invisible puppet master. Their skulls lolled for a moment, twisted and dirt encrusted beards hanging limp. Then as one, the heads snapped to attention as the final puppet string was pulled and the risen dead awaited their orders. 

With his minions ready, Lyle kicked open the door, commanding the undead to follow. Reaching the entrance, Lyle saw the three adventurers and resting the crossbow on his stump, took aim.


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 9, 2002)

Part 3 of 4 


Thalin turned and went to speak to Milo, but he only screamed at the bewildered halfling and began to fall as a black-feathered bolt whistled into the back of his right knee and exploded through the kneecap in a wet burst of blood and bone.

“Your time is ended mage. I have come to claim my vengeance.” Sneered Lyle as a dozen dwarven skeletons appeared behind him. With joints creaking in sockets and bones scratching on the stone floor, the dead surged forwards as they sensed their chosen prey.  

Torious reacted fast, catching the disabled Thalin before he dropped and clutched the broken knee. Looking into the mages pain-drenched eyes, Torious hauled him to his feet as positive power flowed into the damaged knee.
“Only enough to run.” Said Torious as he backed away from the skeleton horde, pushing Milo and Thalin behind him as he retreated.

Milo reached the far wall in a few seconds and seeing one of the three stonework doors slightly ajar, sprinted over, fumbling for the aqualish toy in his pocket. 
“This way!!!” shouted Milo as he pressed the tiny apparatus into the thin gap. With a whoosh, the toy enlarged to full size, creaking in resistance for a split second before forcing open the heavy stone doors. Stale air hit Milo in the face, but he resolutely snapped back up the aqualish into his hand as he spoke an arcane word. With a chime, his crossbow lit up with a comfortable yellow light and illuminated the way forwards. 

Thalin and Torious retreated towards the disappearing Milo. Torious shouted celestial curses at the swarming undead as they clambered across the tracks towards them. Thalin shakily loaded a bolt into his crossbow and aimed at Lyle, but was way off target. Torious reached the tunnel and blasted his scars to life as they both turned and ran from the advancing enemies. A black-feathered crossbow bolt splintered off of Torious’ helm. Lyle shouted a curse as he failed to hit flesh.

- - - - - - - - - - 

Milo leapt into the stone work room at the end of the dark corridor, hoping to Tymora that there were no ghosts in this area of the mines. Having never before been in this section of the mines, Milo made a split second decision and turned to his right, choosing one of the two blank doors in the small room.
With a bellowing roar, the door screamed “INTRUDER!” as Milo grabbed the handle. The halfling stumbled back in pain, his ears bleeding. 

Thalin and Torious burst into the room, and seeing Milo reeling away from the right hand door, they quickly looked to the left.
“Must have been a glyph.” Said Thalin, looking at the halfling’s pain-stricken face.
“The other door might also be guarded!” shouted Thalin as Torious stepped towards the wooden frame.
“Death is not an option.” Grunted Torious as he kicked the door through, sending splinters of wood into the thin passageway beyond. Recoiling, the aasimar’s ears sprayed red as “INTRUDER!” bellowed through the room again. 

“Go!” shouted Torious but looked up to see only a foot wide corridor leading out of the room. Possible to get through, but only just. The aasimar shimmied sideways into the gap and began to palm down the thin corridor towards the room twenty feet ahead. Milo held his ears but picked himself up as he saw the faint placid bones of the skeletons lumbering towards them. With a shout, Milo pushed Thalin into the thin passageway then followed him through with considerable ease. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle sprinted forwards, eager to catch the running mage. Overtaking the skeletons, he bounded towards the room ahead, his crossbow loaded and ready to fire.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious reached the halfway point of the corridor, looking up, he saw his blazing scars illuminate a small pole held horizontally between the walls. _No wait_; a slender blade covered in dust was wedged perfectly into the foot wide gap. Shouting back to his companions to be aware of the blade, Torious ducked the knife and squeezed past. As he passed, a faint vibration could be heard from the knife, as if under incredible pressure. Torious’ scars dulled for a moment as he realised what they were sliding through. 
“Run! The blade is all that’s holding the walls!” 
As if in reply, the blade emitted a dull _thrum_ as its blade point slid a quarter inch to the side. The walls shook, but didn’t close any further. 

Torious slid out of the other side and breathed in deep gulps of air as he turned back and offered his hand to Thalin to help drag him out of the corridor. Grasping the priest’s hand, Thalin pulled free of the walls as the blade hummed again and slid even further. The walls groaned in reply.

Milo passed under the knife as a shriek from the end of the corridor heralded the arrival Lyle. His goggled eyes stretched down the corridor, coming to rest on the knife. Understanding the forces at work, he levelled the crossbow at the knife hilt and began to aim as the halfling scrabbled towards the exit. 

Lyle stood silhouetted in the corridor gap, his goggles two discs of light against the darkness as the skeletons caught up and began to press themselves into the corridor. The undead crawled over each other towards the three heroes, their thick bones scraping against the wall sides as they moved.

Cursing, Lyle saw his shot ruined by the overlapping undead and tried to re-aim over them. 

Milo slipped through the end of the corridor, and not waiting to catch his breath, jumped up and pulled his rope from his backpack and began to whirl it in the air. Thalin ducked suddenly as a black-feathered bolt ricocheted from the corridor roof and slit through his cloak, inches from his arm. 

Measuring his aim, Milo twirled the rope once more as the first of the skeletons swarmed under the knife, and then released the rope end. The rope snaked towards the knife and perfectly wrapped around the blade, but the halfling’s joy turned to dismay as the razor sharp knife-edge slit the wrapped rope into pieces. 

The skeletons reached under the knife and begin to spill towards the end of the corridor. Lyle began to aim again as the halfling dragged the rope in and threw again.

With a shout of victory, Milo’s rope whipped around the blade hilt. Skeletal hands began to claw and scrape at the knife but to no avail. 
“See ya later” said Milo as he jerked the rope backwards, dislodging the blade. With a thunderous grating, the walls began to close together. Milo deftly caught the blade as it whistled through the air, the name _Sliverspike_ crafted into the hilt.

Skeletons snapped and folded into pieces as the walls compacted their brittle bodies. Showers of bone shards peppered the watching heroes as the skeletons reached the end of the corridor in a flurry of shattering frames. 

Not wanting to watch the bones of the dwarves crushed, Thalin turned to view their new surroundings. They now stood in a large chamber with dig marks along the walls, _the most recently excavated_, thought Thalin. The opposite wall was a single huge stonework door, larger than any before. But he didn’t have time to investigate further as two coins zipped through the closing walls and scattered onto the ground at his feet. With a slam, the walls closed, cutting off Lyle’s sudden maniacal laughter.

The coins lay at his feet for a moment, and then dissolved into the ground. Torious and Milo stood with the mage as they watched in horror as out of thin air a circle of bones ripped into existence. Stepping back slowly, the three companions backed away towards the huge doors as the hovering bone circle began to build upon itself, adding grisly layers of blood and filth. 

With a green blast, the circles throbbed once then two withered human figures stepped through and dropped into a predatory crouch. Each cloaked figure had a deformed, taloned hand, which rippled with powerful muscles. Their red bale-fire eyes viewed their targets with a murderous lust.

Torious screamed in celestial fury as he recognised two banedead, dread servants of the banished god Bane.

Torious had barely a moment to contemplate their arrival as the banedead leapt at him, fanged mouths eager for aasimar flesh. Bowling him backwards, the undead drove their claws into any exposed flesh they could find. Torious struggled to fight the creatures off, feeling his limbs become slow and sluggish in response to his thoughts.

Thalin shouted a battle cry and barreled one of the creatures off of his companion, driving Shard into its side. But the scimitar clattered against the rotted skin as if it were a metal sheet.
“They cannot be hurt!” screamed Thalin as the banedead ignored him and leapt towards Torious.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle stamped against the wall again, his efforts to get through useless against the ancient stone. Furious that the mage was out of his sight, Lyle turned to find another way in but halted as a dwarven voice echoed through the room.
“Triggered. Closed.”
Lyle span and answered back in fluent dwarven, 
“Deactivate. Open.”
The walls stood unmoving for a moment then slowly ground open. Lyle grinned sadistically as the thin line to the mage gradually grew wider.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Yes they can, but only by magic!” shouted Torious back as he landed a gauntleted fist into one of his assailant’s faces as he pushed himself into a crouch. Thalin jumped back and realising his efforts with _Shard_ were useless and only having a few spells left, the mage began to assist Torious, finding that the banedead wouldn’t even attack the mage even if he pulled them away and forced them back from the priest of Tyr.

Milo fumbled through his bag again, his hands pressing through the rubbish and rags collected over time until his fingers touched what he had been looking for, the keystone. Spilling the contents of his bag everywhere, Milo pulled the huge gem free. Holding it up to the door, he grinned as it matched perfectly to the gem already placed into one of the two holes. With a slight pause, understanding this could well be the end of his fortune, Milo pressed the gem into the second slot. With a sound like someone sighing, the two gems retracted into the holes and the whole chamber began to shudder as the massive doors began to part at the centre.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 9, 2002)

Part 4 of 4 


Torious staggered back as more blows rained down from the banedead claws. His skin shredded and with very little healing power left, Torious uselessly waved _Justicar_ in front of him. The banedead closed swiftly for the kill, and with a single claw swipe, scattered the useless sword from the priest’s hand.

Thalin shouted to warn Torious, but his words jammed in his throat as a bolt thudded into his shoulder, sprawling him sideways. Propping himself up, Thalin saw Lyle standing in the dimness behind him, his goggles glinting as he reloaded his crossbow. Without a moments thought, Thalin sprang forwards and covered the distance between them in a matter of seconds, crashing into Lyle before he could reload his weapon. Lyle shouted out as he landed, his crossbow spilling from his only hand. With a snarl of rage, he leapt at Thalin with his shortsword in his hand. Thalin countered with Shard, but the ferocity of Lyle’s attack drove him back.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo pulled again, his small hands gripped around the hilt of the sword. Held to the wall by two unrelenting stone locks, the white-bladed sword didn’t move as the halfling pulled with all his strength. Looking back over his shoulder, Milo saw Torious sprawled backwards from the diving banedead and staggered into the unveiled chamber. 
“Torious!” shouted Milo, pointing at the sword. 

Torious fell heavily against the stone wall, blood running freely from wide gashes in his chainmail shirt. As Milo jumped away from the wall to hold the aasimar up, Torious saw the banedead begin to shy away, their dead skin peeling away as they got closer. Milo grabbed Torious’ hands and put them around the hilt of the locked sword.

The sudden flux of positive energy caused stars to pass before Torious' eyes. Looking down, his hands lay on the handle of a white sword. His strength somehow returned, Torious tested the locks once, then placing a foot firmly against the wall, ripped the sword from the stone locks in a cascade of granite shards.

With the sword in his hand, Torious turned and using the last of his power, healed himself, the deep cuts sealed up as if they were never created. Stepping slowly from the chamber, Torious walked determinedly towards the banedead, who shriveled away from the weapon Torious now held.

- - - - - - - - - -

“You will never defeat me mage, my steel is feared throughout the Dales”, growled Lyle as he whirled his blade around again, “Even with my one arm, you are but child’s play to my sword.” 
“You have erred Lyle, this is not a sword fight.” said Thalin, Shard glancing aside Lyle's blade.
Lyle struck again, this time cutting a deep thread of blood into Thalin’s shoulder.
“Then what is this? Why are you not fighting back?” laughed Lyle as he thrust his sword at Thalin’s throat, only to hit thin air as the mage sidestepped.
“Why won’t you fight back?!?” screamed Lyle, his voice hoarse with rage.
“Because I’m concentrating.” Said Thalin as the last of his arcane words were whispered and his free sword hand completed the gestures needed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle stared through his goggles for a moment as the mage stretched his hand out towards him, then, as if in a nightmare, the worthless spirits he saw so often turned their hollow eyes to him, and leapt forwards. With a shriek of absolute horror, the ghosts _touched_ him. Their flaking dead skin clawed at his legs and stomach with sharp, black nails.

Wrenching himself away from the grasping hands, Lyle turned and ran. A terrorised scream ricocheted through the halls as Lyle saw more dead souls drift through the walls, fall from the ceiling and rise from the floor, giving chase as he sprinted back through the mines.

Thalin quickly grabbed his crossbow and paced after Lyle, intent on stopping the murderer escape a second time.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious circled left as the banedead shrank away from the white blade, their red eyes not daring to look at the weapon. 
“Now!” shouted Milo as he released a luminescent green orb from his hands. 
The orb streaked towards the closest of the banedead and struck a split second before Torious landed the sword through the creatures withered skull. With a blast of white light, the banedead fractured open, its skin and bones crashing to lifeless dust as it hit the floor. Torious shook the white blade free of the black robes and turned to the remaining banedead.
“You’re next”, growled Torious, his eyes blazing with fury.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lyle skidded into the main chamber, only to look in horror as dwarven souls dropped from the web above, their wasted hands scraping through his hair as they fell. Lyle backed away as dead souls crowded the entrance, standing to halt his exit. One by one, the dead souls slowed then stopped, their dead eyes watching the man as he backed away further.

Thalin burst from the corridor to see Lyle backing away from something in the centre of the room. Without a word, Thalin raised his crossbow and fired. The bolt flew true, thudding heavily into Lyle’s chest and staggering him backwards. Not pausing to stop, Thalin dropped the crossbow and drew _Shard_.

Lyle stepped back, his sword clattering to the ground as blood trickled from the bolt lodged in his chest. A freezing pain arced through him as he tried to pull the bolt free, but his hands slipped again and again, his fingers slick with his own blood. Tripping backwards, Lyle felt nothing under his right foot as he stepped into the gap over the rock crusher. Balancing desperately, Lyle stretched his hand out to the watching mage as he teetered slowly backwards.
“Save me!” squealed Lyle, his face contorted in fear.

Lyle’s clutching fingers wavered within his reach, but Thalin stood still, his arms unmoving, his eyes cold.

With a last convulsion, Lyle tried to right himself but fell as he did so. Shrieking in terror, the giant fingers of the trapped golem closed around him and the grinder creaked into motion with the added weight. Thalin stood, forcing himself to watch as Lyle was dragged slowly through the teeth of the cogs. Thalin shivered as the dying man screamed in agony for the last time, and then a sickening crunch ended Lyle Blackrock’s life.

Thalin watched as the cogs run red, and then turned away. Remembering his companions, Thalin pushed past his tiredness and broke into a run. The mage darted into the darkness of the corridor, unable to see the dwarven spirits as they slowly moved forward to claim Lyle’s soul.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious pulled the blade of _Freedom’s Edge_, for that is its name, from the collapsed robes of the second banedead. Dropping to his knees, Torious immediately thanked Tyr for the deliverance of such a weapon, his scars flaring with greater intensity than ever before.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin joined Torious and Milo and informed them of Lyle’s demise. The three heroes looked uneasily at the two dusted bodies as Dariel swooped silently into the room, having fled from the combat after the skeletons appeared. Not wanting to stay in the mines any longer, the heroes made to leave quickly, but not before Milo insisted on gathering the gems he left last time and searching the warden’s office. Taking no more time than necessary, Torious and Thalin packed their travel packs with gem bags, whilst discussing the reasons as to why banedead had been under the command of such a man as Lyle Blackrock. Milo, meanwhile, searched the office and grabbing anything he could detect as magical, stuffed it into his pockets (where Isplit began to sort through them). Thinking it better not to disturb the crushed body of Lyle, Milo caught up to his companions and guided them out of the mines, and into the dying daylight…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 7: Trailblazing*

The three heroes have no time to stop and rest as whilst they have been away, a maraudering force of red-robed knights have laid waste to the trading town of Darmshall and put it to the torch. Following the trail of fiery destruction, the heroes vow to put an end to the murderous plans of the man in red.


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## Krellic (Jul 9, 2002)

If there's one thing worse than being eaten by a dragon, it's being beneath a dragon's contempt.  Love the pocket submersible, it really has go a thousand uses, sorry thousand and one - it travels underwater...

Just when you don't want an old enemy to turn up - as if this place wasn't dangerous enough, being pursued through it is a lot of fun.  If only by the readers and the RBDM!

Looking forward to the next episode.


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## MavrickWeirdo (Jul 10, 2002)

Apparatus + Kwalish = Aqualish

Milo should be careful not to use that "miniaturised aqualish expands to full size, creaking in resistance for a split second before forcing open" trick to often, or the DM will plan for it.

Still, very creative play


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 10, 2002)

Goodness... you're a writing machine!  Took me forever to get caught up, but I'm glad I did.  Great work!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 11, 2002)

> Milo should be careful not to use that "miniaturised aqualish expands to full size, creaking in resistance for a split second before forcing open" trick to often, or the DM will plan for it.



Well, to be honest, the remainder of the campaign is largely above ground - beyond this point I can remember Milo using the expanding trick about once or twice. Although he does take every opportunity to use the aqualish, of course. Almost every magic item you'd term as "odd" would go straight into the hands of Milo (I haven't told you what he picked up from the warden's office yet...). But all due to his players creativity - he really does keep me, as a DM, on my toes.

And yeah, Aqualish is the Apparatus, just meddled with a bit (and the market value dropped... otherwise it was insta-fortune). Milo loves it to pieces - second only to his _Tap of Tymora_ (you'll see  ) .



> Goodness... you're a writing machine! Took me forever to get caught up, but I'm glad I did. Great work!



Thanks! It's good to hear you're up to speed - yeah, I guess chapter 6 was a bit big... but it really needed to be done in one go (Not sure why - it just felt wrong to break it up any further).



> If there's one thing worse than being eaten by a dragon, it's being beneath a dragon's contempt



Yup. I really wasn't sure how to approach playing Klauth (though the session was superb, I remember Torious' player was 'on edge' the whole time) - it was hard getting into the frame of mind of a 700+hp Chaotic Evil Dragon who's seen everything, and burnt it down already.

Edit: Next up is the first Interlude of Ice, Luck and Honour. And hopefully you'll be pleased to learn that I'm intent on shortening the lengths of the following chapters. This should make them more bitesize to read, as I get the impression the length of the last postings (chapter 6) was a bit overwhelming.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 16, 2002)

Just as a quick introduction to this, these short interludes will be dispersed throughout the story, cropping up between the points where small story arcs join together, or one ends (Lyle's death) and another begins (the wonderful world of the man in red). But of course you already know what these are for, you being a Story Hour addict and all... So I'll shut up and let you read.

[Edit]Edited into past tense 18th September 2004[Edit]

*Interlude number one: A Burnt Offering*


The flames licked again and crawled like white snakes over the smooth stone of the mage tower. The brickwork above the first and second floor windows was black and dead, fire caressing sluggishly over the magic hardened walls.

Peeling away from the boiling spell book, a single white page snapped free as a billow of hot air tore past. Spiraling upwards, the paper banked and curled as the flames below sped its ascent. With a desperate twist, the page buffeted against the searing stone of the second story window then flapped forwards and escaped into the broiling dusk air. But too late, as a thunderous blast from inside the tower exploded outwards, collapsing the stone walls like a falling house of cards. With a blaze of light, the rising fireball consumed the page. 

The magic of the mage tower died suddenly and with a rasping tear, the support beams fell, toppling the tower sideways to the stone street below. Dust, smoke and fire blossomed outwards. The cinders of the fire danced and weaved slowly upwards, curling a constellation of embers together as they blended with the flames from the surrounding houses.

A bead of sweat began to roll then stopped against the inside of the visor. Reaching his hand up, Robar pressed his gauntlet against the helm to soak the sweat into the leather padding, but the droplet stayed put, and with a grunt of annoyance, he pulled his helmet off. Roughly handing the red emblazoned helm to his squire, Robar peeled a sweat sodden gauntlet from his hand, and ran his hand through his short, dark hair. Robar let his arms fall to his sides as he watched in fascination at the slow drift and ebb of the shimmering embers that now fell like a fatal, glowing snow

The approach of a horse turned Robar’s attention from the flames. As the messenger knight came to a stop and saluted quickly, Robar wheeled his mighty red stallion, it's black hooves thumping against the ground in aggravation at being moved.

“Ser Robar. Noristour fled but The Bear made sure he did not travel far.” Informed the older knight, his dark red helmet slighty muffling his words. 
“And so, where is he now?” asked Robar as he waved a dying ember away from his face.
“Ser. I… I left him to hunt for more survivors.” Said the knight, nervous as Robar sneered before he has even answered.
“You fool. Go and order The Bear to return to the body of Noristour and burn it.” Said Robar, his eyes glinting in the ember-strewn light. “His soul must feed the forge of Kossuth.” 

The knight went to reply, but a scream of anguish pierced the heavy air as a half drow, wreathed in flames, bursts from the doors of a smoldering building and wavered for a moment before charging wildly up the hill toward the knights. With a sickening gargle, the half drow shouted something as he saw Robar.

“Defend me!” called Robar as he fumbled to unlatch his lance.
The half drow staggered again but stayed upright, his burning hands grasping at Robar as he stumbled closer.
“DEFEND ME!” Robar shouted, his voice wavering.

The messenger guided his horse quickly between Robar and the half drow. With a swift kick, the half drow collapsed to the floor and continued to burn as the soft black silks of his clothes exploded into a flurry of flames. The knight dismounted and drew his sword.
“No! Let him burn,” growled Robar as he regained control of his mount and slowly circled back towards the squirming half drow.
“But Ser. The man is burning! You can’t let…”
“Yes. I can,” said Robar flatly, his eyes fixed on the crackling body of the half drow.
“Ser” replied the knight stiffly, sheathing his longsword and nodding in acceptance of the orders.

The messenger mounted then quickly turned away from Robar, keen to leave the presence of the man who so many had fallen before, their souls burnt in deliverance to his fiery god. Halting at the base of the hill, the messenger glanced back and watched the red robed knight gazing at the final agonizing minutes of the smoldering figure. A drift of falling embers swirled lazily around Robar as he watched the life of the half drow crackle and boil away. Finally Robar stared up to the blazing sky above Darmshall, hoping that Kossuth would accept this burnt offering.


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## Black Bard (Jul 16, 2002)

Wonderful story so far!!

I wonder what Kossuth-fanatics are up to in the Cold Lands...maybe they want to warm ir up a little??

But,what about Freedom's Edge??And Vampire???I am curious about these swords!!


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## Malachai_rose (Jul 16, 2002)

*wow*

just started reading your story hour and I gotta tell you I am impressed  the three story arcs is a really cool idea and lends itself to a epic feel that I really like. Also love the Tyrite  heh, I play a cleric of Tyr in my fr game and its cool to see another players take on what it means to be a follower of the God of justice. Well great story, hope you keep it going


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## Femerus the Gnecro (Jul 16, 2002)

WOW!  

I decided to go ahead and read this... only fair since you're I think the sole reader of _my_ story hour (insert shameless plug here).  I didn't expect to find a story so absolutely excellent.  The death of Lyle was fantastic... I had to keep from going 'Whoo hoo!' at work.  

Out of curiosity, what level are these characters roughly?  With the spells being all changed up (love the manifestations, btw) I'm having a hard time figuring out how powerful they really are.  

Can't wait until the next update!  This story hour has officially been added to my 'check for updates every day' list.  

Cheers,

Femerus


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 17, 2002)

Thanks for the kind words everyone!

Okay then, since a few questions are being asked, it's time for a quick recap.

At this moment in time (as the heroes exit the mines - they levelled up at the end of chapter 6) are (If I remember correctly):

Torious: [Aasimar 1] Cleric 1, Fighter 1
Thalin: Wizard 3
Milo: Rogue 2, Sorcerer 1 

When it came to spells like Scare (which cause the manifestations), I thought it needed some sort of reason for causing such fear... so i thought making spirits appear might justify the horror produced(plus it worked superbly on Lyle with his goggles).


Magic Item clarifications:

_Freedom's Edge_ is a Longsword +2 which is a Bane bane (strange sounding I know). Its a powerful item, but Torious was prophecised to find it.

_Vampire_ is a Shortsword +1 which has a modified Vampiric Touch spell cast upon it. Every time it hits, it injects the wielder with blood which heals 1d6 hps. However, because of its power, the weapon does have some rather nasty side effects... which will be revealed as the story unfolds. 

_Erifeci_ has charges (unknown number) which can be used to cast the following (all cast at the current characters level):
Fire - Burning Hands
Ice - Freezing Grip (Shocking Grasp but cold damage)
Eci - Resist Elements [Cold]
Erif - Resist Elements [Fire]

The _Aqualish_ is the Apparatus of Kwalish. Additions are that it can be shrunk with the use of the glove, and has two wooden pincers on the front of the vehicle.

_Sliverspike_ (the dagger holding the walls apart) is a +2 dagger that is utterly indestructible.

...There are a bunch of magic items coming up soon (some of which Milo picked up in the wardens office) and their stats will be posted as they appear. Also, if there is anything at all that I've missed just shout and I'll dig up the stats for ya...



> I play a cleric of Tyr in my fr game and its cool to see another players take on what it means to be a follower of the God of justice



The story arc of Torious in itself is pretty epic - I have a feeling you'll like what is in store for him.

Thats all for now. Next update coming soon!


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## sword-dancer (Jul 18, 2002)

Very interesting Storyhour with an own flavor


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## Enkhidu (Jul 18, 2002)

Niiiiiiice!

I've always had a weakness for unique magic items - even low powered ones should have something to set them apart...

And I'd have to say that the indestructible dagger is the neatest of the bunch.

Keep up the good work!


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## sword-dancer (Jul 19, 2002)

Very interesting Campaign with her own flavor

Call me locked in.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 20, 2002)

[Edit]Edited into past tense on 18th September 2004[Edit]
*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 7: Trailblazing*
Part 1 of 2

Early to Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372


…Taking no more time than necessary, Torious and Thalin filled their travel packs with gem bags, whilst discussing the reasons as to why banedead had been under the command of such a man as Lyle Blackrock. Milo, meanwhile, searched the office and grabbed anything he detected as magical and stuffed it into his pockets (where Isplit began to sort through them). Thinking it better not to disturb the crushed body of Lyle, Milo caught up to his companions and guided them out of the mines, and into the dying daylight…

- - - - - - - - - -

A laconic rising wind helped Dariel glide upwards, his wings scythed through the air with grace. His eyes focused across the vast area he now surveyed; the route back towards Darmshall. Thalin had intoned there might be hostile forces waiting to ambush them, and so Dariel had taken flight to soothe his master’s paranoia. But what greeted the owl’s sight was not an ambushing force; it was a thick, heavy column of smoke rising from where Darmshall should have been. It was too far to determine what had happened there, even with his eyesight. Unsure what to do, Dariel began to descend in a broad spiral taking him slowly back to the earth.

“Don’t be foolish, these gems should easily give each of us enough to go whatever way we choose.” commented Thalin, carefully watching the reactions of his companions as he strode along.
“I do not know which way to travel yet. I shall stay in Darmshall until I am shown,” said Torious, “from that, I cannot be swayed.”
Milo let out a laugh.
“Don’t you ever do what you want? Go somewhere you always wanted to go? Why do you always do what Tyr says?” questioned Milo quickly, as he skipped in front of Torious and began to walk backwards so he could look at the aasimar’s face.

Torious looked back, his eyes level. No answer.

A cold wind breezed past the companions and Milo shivered. Torious stalked onwards without a word. The halfling dropped back to talk to Thalin, but saw the mage looking into the evening sky, as if looking for something. Milo tried to help, although he didn't know what he was searching for.

Milo squealed in fright as a white blur tore past his head. Dropping to the floor, Milo rolled and unlatched his crossbow, drawing a bead on the vicious creature now sitting on Thalin’s shoulder. Realising his mistake, Milo picked himself up and laughed a little, only to hear an exasperated sigh from Isplit as the weasel’s head poked out his top pocket, a small wheat biscuit in his paws.

Thalin stood for a moment as Dariel hopped back and forth on his shoulder. Suddenly Thalin's knuckles tightened around Erifeci, “Milo! Torious! Darmshall is burning!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Mikka ducked again, his eyes wild as the huge metal-plated knight lunged forward.
“Wait!!! I can give you gold… gems… magic!” screeched the trader as the crackling war-hammer head hummed through the air. Not wanting to be on the end of whatever magic was held in the war-hammer, Mikka scurried backwards into the shifting shadows of a burning building as the hulking knight advanced.

Hefting the war-hammer around again, the dying sun played across the ogre-sized knight’s armour. His heavy bronze helm was shaped into the visage of a snarling black bear. Fully coated in plate mail, The Bear moved surprisingly fast and almost caught Mikka again, this time only the thief’s unnatural reflexes saved him. Mikka felt the ledge of a windowsill behind him, and seeing his chance, hopped upwards as the hammer dented a crater into the mortar of the building. With a sudden discharge of energy, the entire wall of the building Mikka was about to escape through exploded outwards in a deafening peal of thunder. The thief tumbled forwards as The Bear grunted in anger at missing his target and went to take another swing, his war-hammer humming with energy again.

- - - - - - - - - -

Two hours passed before the three adventurers finally saw the outskirts of Darmshall before them. Fully dark now, Torious led the party with a blazing torch in one hand and Freedom’s Edge in the other. Thalin followed with Erifeci, and Milo tried to keep pace with Vampire in one hand and using his other hand to balance as he ran with all his halfling might. Sighting a number of still smoking ruins, the three companions saw the perimeter posts, but no glowing line.

Their fears were confirmed as Torious drew to a halt in the market square. With enough light emanating from the smouldering houses, the toppled tower of Noristour lay strewn across the market square, the tip of the tower having smashed through the roof of the town hall.
“Every house is burnt through. Nothing is left,” said Thalin meekly as he slowly turned in a circle, taking in the utter devastation of the trading town. The scorched houses. The cracked and scalded bodies. The air heavy with death and smoke.

Milo sat on the floor, his eyes were closed and he hugged his knees as the reality of what happened here began to fully sink in.
“This is it,” said Torious quietly as he stared into the ruins of the charred tower, “I now know what I must do. This is why I have been led here.”
Thalin turned on Torious, his eyes flaring in anger.
“You damned fool! These people are dead!” he motioned around them, “Do not dare to trivialise this as some sign of your accursed god!”
Torious and Thalin stood unmoving for almost a minute as neither refused to back down, only the soft sobs of Milo breaking the silence.

The deadlock was broken by an aching cry from a nearby building. Torious turned immediately away and headed for the sound. Thalin gently squeezed Milo’s shoulder, then jogged after the aasimar. Milo looked up as the mage ran off. Wiping his tears away, Milo sat cross-legged as he stared into the dying flames of the tower. Sniffing, Milo stared harder as the hazy image of an armour-clad man looked back.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious pushed aside a fallen doorway, and seeing a clutching hand waving desperately, grabbed hold and dragged the person to safety. Thalin pulled burnt debris away as the small figure crawled into the night air. 

Coughing, and wiping his eyes, Mikka stood unsteadily. His clothes and face were caked black and his right hand was broken. Torious recognised the thief, and suddenly became unsure. _Does he bring the vagrant to justice now or help the wounded man recover?_ Running the conundrum through in his mind, Torious reluctantly helped Mikka away from the building, healed his broken hand, and then led him towards Milo.

“Quickly! We’re being watched by a man in the flames!” shouted Milo into the air, not wanting to turn away from the visage. The flaming man turned as Torious, Thalin and Mikka approached then the image faded into the last of the dying fire. 
“There was someone in the flames! He saw me and you and you and… Mikka?!?” cried Milo, suddenly distracted.
“Greetings Milo. Although not in the greatest of settings.” Mikka replied, dabbing at his soot-heavy face with a small handkerchief.
Milo looked back at the strange thief and despite everything, laughed. 

- - - - - - - - - -

After Milo persuaded Torious not to hurt Mikka, the three companions moved outside of the town to set up camp. As the fire and tents were being made, Mikka explained what happened, although the three companions doubted some of the more favourable aspects of the story.

The attack had begun when the sun was setting. It had started when a man called Robar had led a group of knights into the Town Hall and promptly murdered every man, woman and child in there. After this, the burnings began. Mikka explained he had defeated a red-robed knight in single combat as he returned to douse flames that had started in a house full of children. As he helped pull the children to safety, a seven-foot tall knight with a snarling bear-mask had attacked and (Mikka’s face suddenly falls at this point in the recounting) begun to slaughter the townsfolk that were attempting to put out the flames. "The Bear", as the red-robed knights had called him, ordered his men to kill the children. And they obeyed out of fear. Mikka then proceeded to tell of his epic duel with this mighty foe and how he wrestled The Bear to the ground, but lost the pin because his opponent used dirty tactics. 

At this point, Torious informed Mikka that if he lied again he would be forced to exact Tyr’s justice right there and then. Mikka gulped, then continued.

After running from The Bear, Mikka had hid in the house the three companions had pulled him from and using an arcane protection, endured the heat of the fire. But he got trapped because beams fell onto him. And that was that. 

Thalin was interested to know that Mikka could use the Art, but Mikka informed Thalin (whilst Torious is off collecting more firewood) that his arcane skills really came from his heritage. Thalin didn’t seem to understand and Mikka explained that he was known as a tiefling. Born of a human and a devil and stuck on this plane of existence. With that, Mikka went to sleep, but not before making sure the rather confused Thalin and Milo didn’t tell Torious of his birthright.

- - - - - - - - - -

The night passed uneventfully, and the morning came with the lingering stench of smoke and a blood red sky.

Torious awakened at dawn light and prayed to Tyr for guidance. After coming to a decision, Torious joined Thalin, Milo and Mikka who sat around a small fire. Mikka was cooking a batch of red sausages, and offered Torious a portion, but he waved him away.
“Thalin. Milo.” said Torious, not looking at Mikka as he talked, “I have come to a decision. I am going to travel westwards to bring this Robar to justice. He shall not escape Tyr’s wrath for long. I am sorry to leave you in a time like this, but my god has shown me the way.”
Torious stood for a moment, quite aware that his hair was swaying lightly against the red sky in the morning breeze.
Milo stuffed a sausage in his mouth, then answered.
“Yeah, well, I’m going with you,” chomped Milo, “So are Thalin and Mikka.”
Mikka looked up at the dumbfounded aasimar and grinned disarmingly.
“Sure you don’t want that sausage?”

Torious finally agreed to accompany the other three westwards, but only after making each swear that they wouldn’t prevent him dealing justice to Robar. Not wanting to waste any more time, the companions packed up and began westwards, following the heavy hoof prints and burnt offerings scattered behind Robar’s forces.

- - - - - - - - - -

However, tragedy occured only minutes into the journey when Milo, already thoroughly bored, began to sift through the items he found in the mines. Searching through his backpack, Milo decided to rein in his curiosity and test the blandest items first (although he really wanted to investigate a small mechanical spider). With this thought in mind, Milo looked for a moment then withdrew a small bronze ring with a set of dwarven numerals on the side. _Boring_ thought Milo. Turning it over in his hand, his little face scrunched up with concentration, then remarked boldly, “One. Two. One.” 
Milo grinned in victory as his companions looked at him. Seeing them start to turn back, and desperately not wanting to lose their attention, Milo pushed the ring on his finger (which shrank to fit him) and shouted out, “One. Two. One.”
With not so much as a sound, Milo blinked out of existence...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 20, 2002)

*Interlude Number Two: As Fortune May Have It*

The sound of angels singing was so sweet that Milo began to cry. Their voices echoed every emotion possible in the beat of a single word. As his eyes adjusted to the bright lights, he wiped away a tear and gazed around. His dirty boots stood on a perfect marble floor that stretched outwards into a haze of white light. All around him were carved stone pillars that vaulted endlessly into the sky, they seemed to move and shimmer with the voices. In the grand hall, creatures of all sorts moved and danced, their faces joyous, their clothes simple. Some turned to watch Milo with glistening gold eyes. Some whispered his name.

Ahead of him, sat in a small, unimposing chair was a female human with gold-flecked skin. Her features were pretty, but not overbearing. She smiled, and a golden light played across the entire chamber. Around her, creatures of many different races played games together, their laughter at fortune or misfortune melding into one sanctimonious sound of revelry and enjoyment. In the skip of a heartbeat, Milo knew he would stay here forever if he could.

Milo stood awestruck as three robed figures approached the lady with three documents. A small halfling girl with pure white eyes laughed lightly then accepted a coin that the lady offered to her. The three figures nod and leave in turn as the girl flipped the coin and said “yes” then “no” then “yes” again. The lady on the chair smiled and turned to Milo. Milo walked forward slowly, the creatures parting as he advanced.

And then Tymora told Milo all he ever need know.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 20, 2002)

Part 2 of 2

Thalin stared at where Milo had stood.
“Hold on. Milo’s disappeared.” said Thalin with a hint of concern.

After a few minutes of debating whether the halfling was invisible or had died (and a handful of other possibilities), Torious, Thalin and Mikka jumped back as Milo suddenly blinked back into reality. Right where he had been standing.
“Milo?” asked the three onlookers.
Milo stood thinking for a moment, “I think so.”
“What happened?”
“Umm… I’m not sure you would believe me,” said Milo, his brow furrowed as he tried to work through what he just saw.
“Sure we will,” assured Mikka.
“Well… I guess… that I… maybe saw… I suppose it was a god,” said Milo, looking down at the bronze ring sat snugly on his finger.

Mikka let a high-pitched laugh escape his lips. Torious remained deadly serious. 
Thalin looks down at his companion with a sympathetic nod, “Well Milo, these sorts of magical disappearing rings have plenty of side effects. No matter what you saw, a ring that makes you invisible is very useful.”

Milo glanced up at Thalin, who nodded in his arcane musings then resumed walking. Torious followed with a grim look on his face. Mikka watched them go, then hopped over and gazed keenly at Milo's new ring.
“You know, nobody really wants an invisibility ring these days. Maybe you’d do better with something like this…” soothed Mikka as he dug quickly into his robes, but making sure he didn’t take his eyes off of the ring. 
With a flourish, Mikka pulled out a gleaming metal spider.
“Oh. I’ve already got one of those.” Milo said as he walked past and tried to keep pace with his companions once more.

- - - - - - - - - -

Two days passed as the four travellers moved westwards. On the eve of the first day, a light snow began to fall. Only Thalin was pleased, as he was used to such weather. Despite the cold, the companions pushed onwards as they passed more roadside shrines and buildings that were just burnt shells. At mid-afternoon of the second day, Torious spotted a thin curl of smoke in the distance of the snow-blanketed land and quickening their pace, the four companions trekked onwards.

After half an hour of hurried jogging, the smoke curl had become a billowing column, and the shouts of men could be heard from within a circle of trees. Dariel swooped above the white landscape and seeing wheeling columns of red, told Thalin that there is a village set back from the road being overrun by knights. Thalin relayed this back to Torious, Milo and Mikka. The heroes decided that stealth was the better option, and they began to creep along the tree line to the villages entrance. 

Milo sneaked forwards as a scout, counting on his small frame to hide him from the knights in the town. Ahead of him, just to the side of the sloshed ice-road was a man tied to a stake, his skin cracked and black from what had surely been a pyre built beneath his body. 

A sudden thundering of hooves made Milo flatten himself to the ground and motioning to his companions to hide, the halfling watched a detachment of red-robed knights trampled past him and came to a halt on the road. _Forty at least_, thought Milo. Crawling forwards, the halfling tried to get within earshot of the knights talking. 

Thalin held Torious down, his face pressed into the earth to stop him shouting as he squirmed to charge towards Robar.
“Shut up you fool! There are more than fifty of them, you’d just go and get killed!” hissed Thalin as he struggles to hold the aasimar.
Torious strained once but stopped suddenly as he heard a voice call out.

“…and you will return to Darmshall and find these four that I saw,” said Robar as he took his red helm from a nearby squire, “Kill the halfmen, burn the mageling and bring the head of the Tyr-son to me.”

The companions were startled to hear the references to themselves. Watching, Robar issued some commands and two knights departed back into the village, ten knights thundered past towards Darmshall and the remainder turned and follow Robar as he headed westwards.

Letting the knights disperse and watching the two knights heading back into the village, Torious sat up and pushed Thalin off. They stared at each other for a moment in a battle of wills, but are forced to break it up as Milo slid out of the surrounding shadows and beckoned for them to follow. Putting aside their differences, they followed the creeping halfling. Almost losing the slight form of Milo, the remaining three companions stepped out of the trees and onto the road, where Milo had crept up to the staked man.

Milo looked back and said in a hurried voice, “He’s alive!”
Torious pushed past Thalin and Mikka and strode over to the burnt man. As they moved closer, the companions saw that the man was dressed in burnt cleric robes and breathing shallowly, his breathing rasped through his scalded throat.
Milo and Torious immediately stepped over and helped the man down whilst Mikka and Thalin kept a look out to ensure the two knights weren’t returning.

Laying the man on the floor, Torious empowered his healing but stopped as the man cried out in pain as his burns crackled and burst. 
“Curses! His wounds… they won’t heal.” said Torious as he struggled to understand why his powers wouldn’t work.

Milo crouched over the man and stared intently into his eyes. Wild with pain, the cleric looked up at the companions who had pulled him down and managed to speak in a halting, crackling voice.
“You, you must… not stay… she is there…” the man coughed violently, his face wracked in agony.
“What?" Shouted Torious, "Why will your wounds not heal?”
“… no… you cannot trust her… the fire is from the abyss… cannot be healed,” wheezed the man, his body suddenly spasming. He grimaced in pain, then spluttered once before speaking his last words.
“You… you cannot trust her… the woman… that woman in red.”


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 8: Red is the Colour*

The heroes face a dilemma as they race to decipher the burnt cleric’s words. Attempting to rescue trapped townsfolk from a burning church, the heroes must overcome their differences as the scent of the scorched town alerts deadly predators.


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## Malessa (Jul 20, 2002)

You're gonna end up getting me in trouble at work!  Supposed to be focused on the clients, yet I can't tear my eyes away from your story.

Your writing style really brings your adventure to life.  Thanks for the great read!


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## Krellic (Jul 20, 2002)

Nice sense of portentous adventure here, seems to be a characteristic of your adventures!  Something to bear in mind in my own games


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 20, 2002)

Thanks for the compliments!

I would like to take this opportunity to promote four other Story Hours that I think you might enjoy if you are liking Ice, Luck and Honour. Some of these writers read this, some don't. But these are the story hours that have caught my attention (most are lesser known ones). If you are looking for another story to read, you might want to check these out:

1. *Small Beginnings* by Enkhidu (and his sidekick)
2. *Campaign of DM Cthulu Ftaghn* by Cthulu Ftaghn
3. *Servants of the Swift Sword* by Wicht
4. *Dusk in the Land of Fading Stars* by Femerus the Gnecro
edit: 5. *The Elfblood Wanderers* by Bob Aberton

Okay. Less of the promotion. I'm going to post the stats of Milo, Torious and Thalin along with the major items at certain points in the Story Hour. I'll post their chapter 7 stats before chapter 8. Which, by the way, will be coming soonish.

Spider.


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## cthuluftaghn (Jul 21, 2002)

Thank you for the promotion and the encouragement.  That's what we're all here for, after all


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## Femerus the Gnecro (Jul 22, 2002)

Man... trying on unidentified magic rings is like sending Death a chain letter.

Great update... I can't wait until things settle down and everyone has time to deal with Mikka (who's a great character, btw).  Nice cliffhanger-esque ending too... I'm gonna have to start trying that.  

Also, thanks for plugging my story hour!  I'm glad you like it.  I know I'm certainly enjoying yours.  

Cheers,

Femerus


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 24, 2002)

*Ackkk!*

Finally! I got caught up with your Story. And I'm glad that I have, cuz now I get to post! And am therefore subscribed. As you notice, I also like using conjuctions as prepositions....

Q's)I thought Klauth lived in the Western Heartlands? But I guess he could be anywhere....

Like the way you have no qualms about throwing creatures much more powerful than the characters. Learning to run is healthy! I wish some of my players were so wise. _sigh_...

Plus, I am really liking this tale. I love the Realms and have played in it since the old Grey Box (and the Moonshae trilogy) so any story from Faerun is much appreciated. Gives me ideas!

I am intrigued by the Legacy of Torius, Thalin's birthright, and Milo's mischief. My favorite line so far is _"Do you always take orders from your god?"_

Don't know how many times I have heard players ask that of their fellow party members who as it so happens, worship Tyr as well. 

Please write more!

*B.H.--the Original Veggie *


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 25, 2002)

I wanted to write up two things before Chapter 8 got going. Firstly, the identifications of magic items not yet explained (mostly the ones picked up from the mines – these were identified soon after the ring incident. To save time, I'll post them here rather than describe effects ingame, other than important happenings), and the stats of Milo, Thalin and Torious at this point in the Story Hour. 


[HIJACK]Another thing that I’d better mention: Summoning coins. In the mines fight, Lyle threw two summoning coins that brought forth the Banedead. These coins are basically self-contained summoning spells that are tied to a real-world creature (quite often Prime Material). This can happen through a number of means (debts to demons, powerful wizards, fey etc.) Anyway, summoning coins aren’t really important just yet .[HIJACK]


Okay. Without further ado, the magic items picked up:

_Tymora’s Ring_: in the possession of Milo
Activates an instantaneous Plane Shift/Commune once every six months upon utterance of the words “One. Two. One” in any language. Plane Shift locates the user to Tymora’s palace, where direct contact with the Lady of Luck herself is quite possible. All wounds are healed and adverse effects dispelled upon entrance into the palace. As a side effect, it grants Luck of Heroes on the bearer (as the FR feat) – effectively +1 to all saving throws.

_Stirge_: in the possession of Torious
Pick -1, which gives the user an extra attack, each round. Stirge strikes with blinding speed but is erratic in its movement, almost acting against the will of the user.

_Talos’ Laughter_: in the possession of Milo
Milo didn’t really take notice of the polished wooden box that these three crossbow bolts were housed in. On the underside of the case lid is the inscription: The Heaven’s Echo Talo’s Laughter As The Storm Draws Near. When held, or even thought about, the skies above the characters darken and threaten rain. Milo has not dared load a bolt yet (let alone fire one), fearing what the consequences might be.

_Silver-armoured mechanical spider (tiny construct)_: in the possession of Milo
Fitting onto a human’s palm, the spider is inanimate until the miniature burner in the spider’s body is stoked with gems (the better the quality, the better the fuel). When powered, the spider will follow simple vocal commands of “forward” “back” “left” and “right”. Additionally, the spider has a small crystal on its head, which will emit light (as per the spell) when “on” is spoken – “off” will negate the effect.

_Red Potion_: in possession of Thalin
In this heavy bottle is a clouded, red liquid that constantly shifts and swirls. It refuses to be identified. From inside, the sounds of snorting and hooves can be heard.

Party finds (more important ones): Roughly 5 cure light wound salves, a cure medium wounds scroll written in dwarven, lots of gems, more gems, a flesh to stone scroll and finally, a few bags of gems.

- - - - - - - - - -

Looking back on this, these guys had some amazing stats from the get go. If there is anything off (no doubt there is), then it’s my entire fault through trying to remember the stats from that level.

Ice, Luck and Honour characters at end of Chapter 7: Trailblazing (I’m not including skills or anything other than core stats yet, give me some time to work out what was what by the next posting of stats… if there is anything in particular you want to know, then just shout)

*Milo Whittersbane*
Halfling Rogue 3 Sorcerer 1
Str 10, Dex 19, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 18
Hit Points: Not entirely sure. Roughly 20
AC: 18 (+1 size, +4 dex, +3 studded leather)
Attacks: (with Vampire) +2, (with light crossbow) +6
Saves: Fortitude +3, Reflex +7, Will +3
Feats: Stealthy, Dodge 
Items of note:
Vampire, Tymora’s Ring, Talos' Laughter, Aqualish and glove

*Thalin Vorspen*
Human Wizard 4
Str 12, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 17, Wis 10, Cha 10
Hit Points: Roughly 21
AC: 12 (+2 dex)
Attacks: (with masterwork scimitar, Shard) +5, (with heavy crossbow) +4
Saves: Fortitude +4, Reflex +3, Will +4
Feats: Scribe Scroll, Blooded, Martial Weapon Proficiency (Scimitar), Weapon Focus (Scimitar)
Items of note:
Erifeci, Sliverspike

*Torious Mangrane*
Aasimar Cleric 2 Fighter 1
Str 13, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 17, Cha 11
Hit Points: Roughly 27
AC: 18 (+5 scale, +1 dex, +2 large shield)
Attacks: (with Freedom’s Edge) +6, (with shortbow) +3
Saves: Fortitude +6, Reflex +1, Will +5
Feats: Martial Weapon Proficiency (Longsword), Weapon Focus (Longsword), Improved Initiative, Point Blank Shot, Alertness  
Items of note:
Freedom’s Edge 


Those are the stats as I’ve worked them out to be (after piling through old character sheets and the PHB to find the tables), although they might be wrong here and there. Feel free to comment, of course.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hey Broccli_Head, good to hear you've caught up! (I think I killed half of the readership off with the huge chapter 6... whoops)


> Q's)I thought Klauth lived in the Western Heartlands? But I guess he could be anywhere....



I changed Klauth's location. Part of the starting mix up to keep my players a little off balance. His home is currently the mountain range just below Illinvur on the Realms map (just west of Vaasa). I can't remember the name of the mountain range off hand, but thats were he is holed up... plus of course he has innumerable food pens across the entire North.

Anyway. The next update should be on within the next two days, hopefully. 

Comments? Questions? Criticisms? 

Spider.


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## Malessa (Jul 25, 2002)

omg... I SO want Tymora's ring.  Can I have one?  Please... can I?


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 25, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *Comments? Questions? Criticisms?
> 
> Spider. *




sure...I also like the idea of _Tymora's Ring_. I may toss it to a player in my campaign. Do I have your permission?

I don't think the posts are too long. Sometimes the present tense style gets to me, but I think that is just personal preference. Reminds me too much of existenssialism....What is the desired effect? Then I can let you know if you are achieving it!

Is Mikka an NPC or a player? Are you using the old _Bloodstone Lands_ amd _Great Glacier_ supp?


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## Miho (Jul 25, 2002)

Fantastic story!



			
				Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *Hey Broccli_Head, good to hear you've caught up! (I think I killed half of the readership off with the huge chapter 6... whoops)*



Your readership is growing not shrinking! It was recommended to me by another regular reader. Can't wait for the next installment now I've caught-up. 

By the way.. did I mention - *Fantastic story!*


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## Black Bard (Jul 25, 2002)

I really liked those interesting magic items,especially Tymora's Ring (as everyone ).

  I'm running a campaign in the Cold Lands by now,so it's good to see it depicted by you in that awesome way...and,of course,as a good "Dusty Grey Box Realms Fan" it's always good to see a story set in FR.


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## MavrickWeirdo (Jul 25, 2002)

*Favorite quotes*



> Thalin looks down at his companion with a sympathetic nod, “Well Milo, these sorts of magical disappearing rings have plenty of side effects. "



   One ring to rule...



> “You know, nobody really wants an invisibility ring these days. Maybe you’d do better with something like this…” says Mikka
> 
> “Oh. I’ve already got one of those.” Milo says


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 25, 2002)

> omg... I SO want Tymora's ring. Can I have one? Please... can I?



If you can find and kill Milo, then sure, it's all yours. But then again... Tymora does have a soft spot for that little guy, so who knows what sort of horrific holy venegeance would occur.


> Sometimes the present tense style gets to me, but I think that is just personal preference. Reminds me too much of existenssialism....What is the desired effect?



To tell you the truth, I find myself slipping to past tense quite often and have to rewrite a whole paragraph. I think the reasons for using the present was attempting to get you to actually travel with the characters - as if you were seeing a film for the first time - you aren't sure were this is going. And plus, some of first person viewpoints (like Torious' first death) had to be written present tense, and I didn't want the story to fracture to much. But I'm not entirely sure - I'm hoping it's working. 

Anyone else finding problems with the present usage? I doubt I'm going to change at this point in the story hour, but it would be useful to know what aspects of it are annoying.  

And yeah, of course you can steal the idea of Tymora's ring. Although bear in mind (according to legend), only creatures destined to be a Chosen will actually have one fall into their possession.


> Is Mikka an NPC or a player? Are you using the old Bloodstone Lands amd Great Glacier supp?



He's an NPC. Milo likes him. Thalin puts up with him. Torious wants to feed him into the Abyss. He's something of a reoccuring character, truth be told.

And no, I'm not using the supplements, reason being, a great deal of the area leaders and characters are changed around (you'll soon see why). Idea's are poached and warped, of course, but no set adventures have been used, even in the slightest.


> Your readership is growing not shrinking!



I hope your right Miho, it seems you prove this point all by yourself!


> I really liked those interesting magic items,especially Tymora's Ring



One of the things I wanted to achieve with this Story Hour was to make every magic item interesting in someway ("With great power, comes great responsibility") ... the magic items themselves have a few plot-hooks because of their histories, so its all "ripples", as PirateCat would say.


Thanks again for all the comments... and just who is the woman in red?


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 25, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments... and just who is the woman in red? *




Kelley LeBrock in the movie by the same name. 
It also stared Gene Wilder.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 30, 2002)

> Kelley LeBrock in the movie by the same name



Damn. I hoped you guys hadn't seen that movie . Anyway, here is the next chapter...


[Edit]Edited in past tense 10th September 04[Edit]
*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 8: Red is the Colour*


Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372


…Milo crouched over the man and looked into his eyes. Wild with pain, he stared over the heroes who pulled him down and managed to speak in a halting, crackling voice.
“You, you must… not stay… she is there…” the man coughed violently, his face wracked in agony.
“What? Why will your wounds not heal?” shouted Torious
“… no… you cannot trust her… the fire is from the abyss… cannot be healed,” wheezed the man, his body suddenly spasmsing, his face contorting in pain. He then spluttered once before speaking his last words.
“You… you cannot trust her… the woman… that woman in red.”…

Torious watched the man die, the priest’s face relaxing as death soothed him into the afterlife. A sudden draining sadness pierced through the aasimar as he imagined every being felled by Robar would have endured this very same fate. _How many more lives will be extinguished to appease this fiery god?_ 

Torious gently closed the bodies crusted eyelids, whispering a prayer to ease the murdered soul into the next life. The aasimar then stood and drew Freedom’s Edge.
“Thalin. Milo. We are to take those knights in the village alive.” Torious clenched his mailed fist in a sudden burst of rage, “I swear to bring the sword of justice to Robar, even if I must chase him through the Nine Hells and back. He shall not escape my wrath.”

Torious spun to glare at Mikka with an almost level hatred.
“And _you_. You shall stay here.”
“As you command, oh illuminated one.” remarked Mikka, sitting himself down and resting his back against the charred stake as Torious stalked purposefully towards the village. Thalin followed. 

Milo threw a look back at Mikka and checking the others weren't looking, struck a ridiculously dramatic pose, imitating the grand movements of Torious. Mikka started to laugh like a baby hyena as Milo turned and scurried after his companions.

- - - - - - - - - -

After quickly discussing the words of the dying cleric, and agreeing that they should be on the lookout for this “woman in red”, the three heroes advanced cautiously through the trees towards the village. The stench of smoke lay heavy and unmoving as Milo crept forwards, his crossbow levelled. Ahead of the companions, the village came into view. The few small houses were burnt shells, trails of smoke from the ruins drew lazy charcoal smears in the sky.

“Alive.” hissed Torious as he saw the eager halfling sight the two knights, who had dismounted and begun to nonchalantly sift through the smouldering remains of a village house.

Milo detached silently from the tree line and like a shadow, drifted from one wall to the next as he circled out of view of the two knights. Thalin began to summon arcane energies forth, his brow knotted in concentration as he left the last words unspoken.

Torious stepped out from the trees, his crossbow levelled.
“Defilers! Lay down your swords.”
The knights turn promptly as they heard the voice, their half plate glinting in the embers of the burning town. One knight wavered for a moment, his young face uncertain. The other reacted lightning fast. Dropping to a crouch, he dashed forwards, his longsword drawn.
“For Robar!” bellowed the man as he charged.

The knight didn’t travel far, as a bolt from Torious thudded heavily into his breastplate, making the knight lose footing. A split second later, a second bolt whistled from the shadowed Milo and punched cleanly through the falling knights visor with incredible precision.

Thalin watched the dead knight crash heavily to the floor then released his spell, soothing the remaining knight into unconsciousness. With a creaking thud, the second knight folded to the floor. 

Thalin stormed forwards, his knuckles clenched white around Erifeci.
“What in the blazes are you doing? You said alive!” cursed the mage.
“Defending myself. One is alive,” retorted Torious as he crouched next to the fallen knight, “Milo shot him in the face. I was simply halting his attack.”
“I couldn’t see properly!” called Milo from across the village square, hoping to pass on the blame again.
“But you can still shoot.” said Thalin with an angered edge to his voice.

Milo shrugged, and then suddenly jolted upright.
“Wait! Someone is shouting. From the town hall!” Milo cried, darting towards the smoking building. Torious dashed across the square without a moment of thought, whilst Thalin stooped next to the sleeping knight, ensuring his spell is security enough to keep the knight inactive.

- - - - - - - - - -

The second head of the ettin slowly turned to the side, its heavy-set eyes staring numbly into the trees. The first head gaped straight ahead, its wide mouth dripping a thick line of saliva to the ground, some ten feet below. 
“Uhh,” grunted the ettin’s second head, “Urrrnnng.”

Huge nostrils opened sluggishly, and its eyes seem to dimly focus somewhere beyond the trees. Thinking for a full minute, the ettin finally began to move. Lumbering over the carcass of a stag unfortunate enough to get caught earlier that morning, the two ugly heads looks down at the huge sleeping form of another ettin. 

Swaying for a moment, the ettin ponderously raised a foot and stepped on the sleeping ettin’s face.
After a few moments, the ettin spasmed to life, “Rragrghhhh,” snarled the second ettin as he shoved the first ettin’s foot off and sat up, “Gruhh.”

The first ettin motioned with one head towards the trees whilst the second head spoke, “Urrrnnng… gurrrrn… aaar.”

A tense moment passed as the second ettin tried to understand the first. 

Then, after the second ettin stood uncertainly, the two giant figures began to push through the trees, occasionally grunting between their own heads or between each other.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious burst through the town hall doorway, his eyes quickly shifted across the scene before him. Milo was crouched next to a mound of burnt timbers, his hands scrabbling desperately at the heavy wooden beams. Looking up, Torious saw the roof had entirely collapsed in on itself and the floor was layered with the scattered debris. 

The aasimar closed his eyes and prayed to Tyr for aid, his mouth whispering divine incantations.

“Torious! Help me. People are trapped under here,” grunted Milo as he heaved a smaller beam from the latticed pile. 

The aasimar finished the prayer then stepped forwards determinedly and gripped a charred beam in each hand. He could feel the rush of strength flowing through his body, coursing throughout his veins as his fingers closed around the timbers. With a roar of both exertion and triumph, Torious began to clear the fallen beams. Milo helped as best he could, taking smaller pieces away and giving wholehearted vocal support to the empowered Torious.

As the aasimar dragged the last of the beams to the side, a charred trapdoor began to jump in concert with muffled shouts from beneath it.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin snapped his head up as a flurry of small birds swirled overhead, their furious forms blurring away from the tree line in a cacophony of squawks. 

Rising from his crouch next to the sleeping knight, Thalin slowly guided his hand to the hilt of Shard as he scanned the dense foliage.

- - - - - - - - - -

“By all the gods, demons and devils.” exclaimed a portly priest as he is helped to his feet, his eyes full of incomprehension as he surveyed the burnt ruins of the hall.

Torious gripped the hand of another villager from the darkness of the basement and hauled them into the afternoon light. But the praise and thanks went unheard by Torious as a young woman passed a crying baby into his waiting hands. A dirty red cloak was slung around her shoulders. Before Torious could react, she had ducked back into the darkness to help another villager out of the basement.

A moment later, the woman’s head returned into the pool of light.
“There are only two more left now. A grandson and grandma,” said the woman with the red cloak as she squinted up at Torious from the shadows of the basement. Torious gazed back, his words suddenly lost in the woman’s steely brown stare. She let the stare linger a moment too long before dropping back down.

A rasping voice drifted up from the darkness, “I’m not his grandma. Simply a guardian…”
“Whatever you say, but you still need to get out of this basement,” said the disembodied voice of the woman in return.

A young man of about seventeen appeared in the spotlight of sun, his black hair wild and unkempt. He looked up as Torious offered a hand to help him, but instead he jumped and gripped the basement edge, hauling himself into the light without a word. 

Milo chatted excitedly to one of the halfling villagers, happy to have found a fellow half-man in a situation such as this. Keeping half an eye on the basement exit, Milo suddenly trailed off his sentence as a young man with black, unkempt hair pulled himself out of the basement.

Milo blinked once, then looked again. _I've seen him somewhere before… but where?_

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin pounded up the steps to the town hall, skidding to a halt in the doorway entrance. A loud, guttural roar echoed past Thalin and everyone in the hall turned in surprise to look at the silhouetted ice mage. 
“Ettins! In the village!” shouted Thalin before ducking back out of the door in a flurry of robes.

The villagers began to panic, their momentary sanctuary from the marauding knights suddenly shattered by this new threat. The women and children rushed towards the back of the town hall with a symphony of frightened screams, picking their way across the scattered debris in the hope to find a hiding place from the half-giants.

The woman in red snapped her head back into the darkness as she heard the mages warning, “Curses. The old woman can wait. Here, help me up”. 
She extended a gauntleted hand to Torious, who faltered for a moment then helped her into the light. Her face was coated with a sheen of sweat from the heat of the basement and her hair was plastered against her forehead. Despite this, a few slivers of beauty shine through from beneath her overworked exterior.

“Wait… there are ettins… you might get hurt,” uttered Torious, doubting his own words as he looked at the tarnished half-plate and the longsword slung at her side.

Pushing herself to her feet, she threw a playful glance back at Torious, “Don’t worry about me. You can stay here and help out the old woman if you’re scared.” With that, the woman in red dashed out of the hall.

Torious stood unmoving for a moment, his thoughts reeling as he tried to sift through his own emotions and the dead priest’s warnings about the woman in red.

The distinct hiss of Thalin’s icy bolts followed by a thundering roar of pain from outside bring Torious to his senses. He unsheathed _Freedom’s Edge_.
“Men who can and will fight, then do so,” shouted Torious over the chaos of noise around him, “women and children take shelter at the rear of the hall.”

Surveying the beginnings of the skirmish at the base of the steps, Torious watched as five men rushed out of the hall to join the fray. Stepping into the light, Torious glanced back to check for any remaining volunteers. Instead, his eyes met the sight of the wild-haired man carefully helping an aging woman from the basement. Her wiry body was draped with sleek red robes, a heavy hood shadowed her face from the afternoon light…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 9: Eye of the Blizzard*

The heroes valiantly defend against the maraudering ettins, but as the combat rages, a bizarre twist of fate snares the attention of a deity. As tempers flare and suspicions clash over the true identities of the mysterious women in red, the heroes attempt to guide the homeless villagers through a deadly mountain pass.


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## Miho (Jul 30, 2002)

Excellent stuff!

The woman in the red cloak sounds like she could be an interesting character. I'm dying to know more but I'll wait until the next episode - I wouldn't want to spoil the suspense.


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 30, 2002)

*i see red...*

Hah! Two women in red! 

Way to keep us confused! 

But I am still looking forward to more tales of the Trio...


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## Enkhidu (Jul 30, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *
> ... but as the combat rages, a bizarre twist of fate snares the attention of a deity. *




Isn't that always the way it goes?

I gotta say, I feel for your PCs - direct attention from a diety almost always means bad things...

And keep up the good work!

By the way Spider, I admire the way you've kept present tense through this whole thing. I know for a fact that it can be very difficult to stick with (it's never been my cup of tea). And, I must admit, your flair for description reminds me of the other half of _my_ writing team...


By the way, thanks much for the plug earlier! You have no idea how much we appreciate it!


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## dshai527 (Jul 30, 2002)

> By the way, thanks much for the plug earlier! You have no idea how much we appreciate it!




Except for the sidekick thing...you've got it the wrong way around.

I also applaud your ability to stay in tense and your detail. 

P.S. Diety attention is always a fun thing....Enk still has nightmares about the things I've done to my group. Make the DM's of the world happy and use your power wisely....and for evil...or at least mess with their heads.-


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## Taboo (Jul 31, 2002)

I finally got caught up on your story and what a cliffhanger!

I can't wait for the next installment!

Well, I can make the guys in my game happy and finally update my story, I kind of neglected it, I got too caught up reading yours! 

Excellent story!  I'd have written sooner, but I wanted to finish it first.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 4, 2002)

Hey dshai527 and taboo (btw, I'm starting to read your story hour now - gimme time to work through the posts though). Make yourselves at home.

Ummm... 

the past/present tense thing has reached a bit of crisis at the moment because I've gone and written my ENWWC chapter in past tense, so I'm wondering what to do. 

And that is also my reasoning behind not updating for a while. I've had to concentrate (ie: rewrite wrong tense over and over and over) on the ENWWC, but Chapter 9 will be up within a week.

If you can, check out the ENWWC thing Here's the link  because a) the whole project is a good, interesting read, and b) see what you think of my past tense compared to the usual stuff. 

Cheers. Spider.


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## Taboo (Aug 4, 2002)

Spider-
I just finished ENWWC and it's great, I loved it all, especially enjoyed the way you finished yours, that coin does get everyone! You got me hooked on the writer's circle now, thanks!

The past tense is good, and I find it the easiest to write in, but use whatever works best for you. I like your writing both ways, but I've got to say, that you did a really great job in past tense! I hope it helps.


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## cthuluftaghn (Aug 9, 2002)

I struggle with tense a lot.  I try to stay in the past tense, but find myself ever creeping into the present.  You don't seem to have any problem... bravo!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 9, 2002)

Thanks for the comments guys. 

*nice to see you back Cthulu*

I'm sticking with present tense for the moment - it makes this story hour a little different from the usual, and everyone seems to like it so far (more or less). 

Chapter 9 should be up by this time tomorrow. The reason I haven't posted in a while is that I've had to concentrate on DMing Fire, Fate and Shadow in the past few days. Which has taken up a barrel-load of time.

Spider


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 10, 2002)

[Edit]Edited 6th September 04 into past tense[Edit]

*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 9: Eye of the Blizzard*
Part 1 of 3

Middle Winter, Realms Date 1372 


Surveying the beginnings of the skirmish at the base of the steps, Torious watched as five men rushed out of the hall to join the fray. Stepping into the light, Torious glanced back to check for any remaining volunteers. Instead, his eyes met the sight of the wild-haired man carefully helping an aging woman from the basement. Draped over her wiry body were sleek red robes, a heavy crimson hood shadowing her face from the afternoon light…

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo feinted left then tumbled sideways, rolling tightly through the ettin’s legs. The ettin tried to follow, but collapsed heavily to the ground with a grunt of surprise as it chased the elusive halfling through it’s own legs. Milo pounced forwards and stabbed the fallen ettin in the side. 
“Stay down, filthy beast!” cried Milo enthusiastically as Vampire bit deep, his veins suddenly flaring in ecstasy with the half-giant blood. The villagers around the ettin took heed from the daring halfling and swarmed onto the downed creature, their weapons hacking with fury into the roaring giant.

The woman in red dashed forwards, her body slung low to the ground as she rushed at the second ettin. Thalin back-pedalled away from the powerful swings of the enraged giant, its two monstrous heads snarling in unison as the mage ducked under another swipe. The ettin stepped forwards with a thud, emitting a guttural growl from one head and a snorting laugh from the other. The ettin loomed over the mage, it's club ready to bring down a final crushing blow. Suddenly bellowing with pain, the ettin dropped to its knees as the woman in red rushed past, her sword tracing across the hamstrings of the giant.   

A shower of frozen shards into the crippled ettin from Thalin's outstretched hands. The giant's skin cracked and snapped away as frost crawled across it's chest. Undeterred, the ettin lurched forwards and smashed Thalin to the side with a heavy swing. Lifting the mage off of his feet, Thalin was sent crashing through a half collapsed wall and into the remains of a smouldering house. The ettin roared with a mix of triumph and pain as it watched the roof of the house give way and collapse heavily onto the crumpled mage.

- - - - - - - - - -

Turning away from the frail red robed woman and the questions that her presence has created, Torious instead bounded down the steps of the church as the cries of battle echoed from outside. 

- - - - - - - - - -

“Please Merrick, you must not go out there,” breathed the old woman, her words almost a whisper, “you must be kept safe”. 
Straightening herself up and reaching up with hands mottled by age, the woman in red drew the hood away from her face. Her eyes were hollow and her skin loose, as if her skull had shrunk and left the rest behind. Grey hair, what little of it remained, was pulled tightly back from her head. Smiling thinly at Merrick, her eyes softened slightly as she saw the illusion of immortality that all humans of that age possess.

“I can go where I want Errilinth, you said that yourself,” Merrick said with a hint of rebellion in his voice, “so I’m going”.
Conceding defeat, Errilinth watched as Merrick turned and jogged to the town hall doorway. His silhouetted form paused for a moment to look back at the woman who had guided him thus far, then stepped out into the afternoon light.

Errilinth stood motionless, watching with trepidation as the child that she had been charged to defend all those years ago left her side of his own free will. Clasping the pendant around her neck with a gnarled hand, Errilinth gazed past the scattered beams and the burnt timbers to the gallery of frightened faces huddling against the far wall. All their eyes were now on the woman in red standing alone in the centre of the town hall. She watched them for a moment. Their fearful eyes, their burnt clothes, their undying hope.

Turning away from the cowering townsfolk, Errilinth followed into the light, lifting her hand to protect herself from the glaring sun. Squinting out across the skirmish below, she saw Merrick join the townsfolk as they circled a dead ettin. Their frenzied attacks dared not slow to see if the beast is dead. Their leader was a halfling who slid his blood-slick shortsword into the fallen giant again and again.

_She will know soon._ 

Errilinth stood calmly at the top of the steps, waiting for what shall inevitably come.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious staggered his attack again, driving Freedom’s Edge hard into the belly of the creature. Backing away a step, he found himself next to the woman in the red armour. Both watched as the ettin staggered backwards, one of it's heads lolled useless and dead on it's chest. 
“Who are you?” grunted Torious as his shield guided a flailing blow from the ettin into the ground.
“You shouldn’t ask a lady that,” came the reply as she circled to her right,  purposefully knocking against Torious as she sidestepped, “who are you?”
Torious gritted his teeth as the ettin bellowed again and lumbered forwards with its club, “I’m Torious Mangrane. I am a descendant of Tyr the even-han…”
“Great,” interrupted the woman in red as she suddenly pulled herself dangerously close to Torious, “I’m Vaerana Hawklyn. Pleased to meet you.” 

Vaerana grinned wickedly at Torious then thrust away from him with a powerful kick, sending the bewildered Torious skidding onto his back with a crash. A second later the ettin’s huge club thundered into the ground where the two warriors once were. Vaerana landed in a crouch, then immediately darted forwards to attack the stooped giant. But she was stopped short as the ettin collapsed in on itself in a cascade of crystallised ice.

Thalin stood haggard on the mound of smouldering rubble around him; his hand outstretched towards the frosted ettin. His eyes glared at the sundered corpse of the giant with a blaze of vengeance, “Bastard”. His energy spent, Thalin wavered once then toppled sideways with a gasp of pain.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 14, 2002)

I'm sorry that these last few postings have slowed down to a bit of a crawl, but I'm afraid its going to get a little worse before it gets better.

Because, I'm off on holiday today (well... sort of) and I'll be back on the 25th. I promise you parts 2 and 3 of Chapter 9 will be posted up within a few days of my return.

See you guys soon.

P.S  --  if this floats to page 3 of the story hours, could someone please give it a mild bump?

Oh yeah - Torious' player posts to ENworld now. His username is _freedom's edge_ (if you hadn't guessed that already).

Spider.


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## Broccli_Head (Aug 14, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *Ice, Luck and Honour
> 
> 
> Chapter 9: Eye of the Blizzard
> ...





Thanks for the post! Can't wait til you return. Am really enjoying the characters and learning of their personalities. I am partial to Torius as Tyr is my favorite god in the Realms....hard to beat divine rank 18!


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## freedoms_edge (Aug 19, 2002)

I warn you now, divine might is pointless to the players when spider's dm-ing.....


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 24, 2002)

I'm back from my holiday and with a variety of "voting for this and that story hour" on the boards I have become slightly jealous , and so redoubled my efforts to improve Ice, Luck and Honour. I hope you see the improvements in the next few chapters.

Chapter 9 part 2 is coming oh-so soon.

Spider (master of subtle bump-age before he posts up the next installments).


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## Malessa (Aug 27, 2002)

I've been trying to find time to read your thread for awhile now!  My hubby, DM CthuluFtaghn, speaks highly of your writing abilities, and story content...What I have read here and there, makes me wish I could find time to read all, again and again!

Since school has started up again, and I am a home school mom, involved in and support my hubby's campaign, mother of 2yr old, and sketch as well(which explains my busy schedual), I'm going to add you to the "good reading" material to our studies.  Not only to satisfy my own intrigue, but to help our 9yr stay compelled and thurst for "whats next?" in reading.  Since he doesn't read books like he should but loves to play D&D, I'm sure he will stay focused and be just as enthusiastic as I am, to read your campaign stories.  Hope you don't mind, and thanks!


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## Enkhidu (Sep 6, 2002)

Now where on earth did that wonderful Ice, Luck, and Honor Story Hour go?

Oh! Here it is!

ker-BUMP.


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## Malessa (Sep 6, 2002)

*Worked like a charm!!*

Today was the first friday, of future fridays to come.  For my 9yr old and I to take time reading stories in story hour.  Yours is the first, for our Reading lessons in English(homeschooling).

We only got as far as the intro, and first character background.  We took turns on each paragraph, matter of fact, my son got mad if I read more than I was supposed too.   Considering it takes a miracle for him to ever pick up a book on his own, I'm thinking we have found something good here.  He and I enjoyed it very much, and of course, him being a young boy, loves the swordfights, blood and guts type stuff.  His fav. part was when Torious(?) smacked Limmet with his gauntlet (we also have reanactments  along the way), and flickering of swords. He also thinks the scares on his face are cool, cause they glow....

Needless to say, we will be back next Friday for the next character background and so on.  I'm thinking since he is so excited and genuinely intrested in reading these, we might just end up being a permant fixture on story hour, for as long as it lasts....Hope you don't mind us starting with yours...

As for me in this, I kill two birds with one stick.  I get time to read other stories besides proofing and enjoying my hubby's, and I get the joy of my son's change of intrest, of wanting to read! My Friday's are complete!


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## Femerus the Gnecro (Sep 6, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *Chapter 9 part 2 is coming oh-so soon.*




Oh?  So soon?  

But not soon enough!

C'mon, man!  I've updated mine for the first time in a month... it's your turn.  

Tag, yer it!

-F


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 9, 2002)

The update. As requested.

(Malessa - great news to hear your son likes the stories - I'm honoured! I hope the goblin raid isn't too violent for him, and I also hope that my english holds up well enough under your inquisition!)

PS. You guys will notice that the writing has clicked into past tense, as of now. I'm sad to say it, but the present tense was starting to become a real pain to think through, and I like to reason that I might write a little better in past tense  . Anyway, I hope you guys aren't thrown out too much by this (I really didn't want to switch in the middle of a "to be continued...", but I was left with no choice).

Also, sorry its taken a while to update - moving house threw all my plans out of the window. But now I'm sorted and should have regular(ish) updates going on. 

I'll shut up now, and let you get back to Torious, Thalin and Milo. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Part 2 of 3


Milo thrust the blade downwards, his small hands painted red with the ettin’s blood. His eyes focused, breathing steady and hands tight around the hilt of Vampire, Milo continued to methodically strike into the dead giants back. 

The workers of the village stood in a silent circle around the felled giant, weapons held awkwardly as they watched the cold fury of the halfling. Words were exchanged between the villagers, and Merrick stepped boldly forwards, his hand outstretched to the halfling as if to hold him back,
“Halfling, halt. The beast is dead and gone”.

Merrick approached cautiously, everything was silent save for the soft crunch of his own boots in the snow and the rhythmic _schlick schlick_ of the halfling’s sword. Milo abruptly halted his attack mid strike and twisted towards the young man. Merrick halted and looked up into the blood-speckled eyes of the figure above him. The halfling’s face was expressionless as Vampire flickered forwards in a liquid arc, the blade sliding neatly into Merrick’s mouth and out the back of his neck. At the top of the town hall steps, Errilinth screamed.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious crouched next to the unconscious Thalin, his hands traced over the soft, bruise tinged, ridges of a splintered arm. Vaerana stalked in a steady circle around the two companions, her arms folded, her eyes monitoring every movement of this man called Torious. A cry of fear reached her ears, from across the village. Before she had time to move, Torious had sprung to his feet and was already ten paces away. 

Vaerana went to follow, but halted as a wheeze of pain snared her attention. The sound wasn’t from Thalin, who was still unconscious, but from a red-armoured knight who had sat up in the centre of the village. Vaerana paced quickly towards the vulnerable fighter. With his back turned and his head still reeling; the knight of Ser Robar heard the advancing footsteps too late.

- - - - - - - - - -

Merrick’s face was a mask of surprise as he slid away from the sword tip. The young man’s body quivered for a moment then folded backwards and crumpled to the frosted ground with a thud. Milo involuntarily convulsed backwards, dropping Vampire as he moved. The glistening blade clattered to the ground, only Milo noticing the circle of ivory fangs that protruded from the underside of the hilt, and the way they slowly receded, as if the sword were alive. His hand was swimming red, ten dark sinkholes pierced into his thumb and forefinger. Like a clap of thunder, comprehension of his actions hammered straight into his mind and he suddenly saw what lay about him. 

Milo watched as Torious broke through the circle and shouted to him, though his ears would not hear. The villagers shouted too, their faces wracked in fury and fear, but their voices seemed distant and soft. Torious turned on the circle then, his face suddenly ablaze with scar-light. Yet Milo ignored this, as his eyes were drawn to the steps of the town hall, and the woman in red that stood solemn and alone. It was then, that amidst the silence around him, a glorious pillar of light sprung forth from the dead boy at his feet and vaulted upwards. 

Milo felt a warm breeze on his face and his deafened ears echoed with song. The circle of men around him fell to the ground, their hands covering their eyes. Watching as the light flew higher and wider, Milo was drifted from his feet by the breeze and carried away from the light, though he wanted nothing more than to fall into its blinding body. As he floated, a snow-bent tree clawed past, as if trying to grasp him from the sky. Suddenly, Milo was jarred violently downwards and a sudden rush of white heat spilled across his side. The pillar grew dim and the blazing light became pale. A searing scream of pain surrounded him, and Milo knew it was his own. Then the world melted grey, his vision drowning into blackness moments before the ground rushed up to meet him.


- - - - - - - - - - [INTERLUDE] - - - - - - - - - -


The table was set for a grand feast. The wandering minstrels, clothed in such an array of splendid colours and fashions, vied for the attention of the many, many guests. The music of the hall seemed to provide a rhythm to the conversation and laughter that echoed between the walls of the tower. Milo was pleased. He was certainly hungry, and the food that was laid before him was beyond even his culinary imaginations. Basted bulette meat stuffed with cornsour, roasted kingswood potatoes, a platter of sautéed rothe sirloin that seemed too far down the table for Milo’s liking, frosted Amn salad, and many other dishes which Milo simply didn’t know the name for. 

His company was of a great many races, their differences seemingly cast aside for this joyous occasion, though Milo could truly not guess at the reason for such a lavish party. Directly across from him was an aged dwarf who seemed intent on hoarding all the stonebread he could see, despite the food replenishing itself when he wasn’t looking. On either side of Milo sat two men who seemed to be friends, each wearing a chainmail shirt covered in a thick brown doublet with a family signet emblazoned on the front (a castle tower entwined with the stem of a rose). Milo had resolved himself many times to ask if the men wished to sit next to each other, but no sooner had he chosen his moment to ask than another platter would appear with food too tempting to forget. 

And so this revelry continued, the guests dined and laughed as if it would never end. Above them all, the stars blazed in a scattering of brilliant white points, for the ceiling of the hall had been removed, presumably for the guests’ enjoyment. And as such, the sky and stars were a great talking point of the feast. Milo was eager for conversation to spill his way, and so chose what he assumed to be a common interest of the feast, the green star that moved gently between the constellations. As soon as he had begun to ask questions of this to the men beside him, than he was ignored completely. His chosen topic seemed to be void at this particular party, so Milo decided to ignore the company and concentrate upon the food.

The feast pressed on, though the courses did not change. More meat was laid in front of Milo and he found himself eating more than he had ever before, as if the food would not fill him at all. His thoughts dwelt upon this subject for a while before he became aware of a man watching him. He sat across the table and a few seats to the left, his plate was clear and the persons about him simply talked through him, as if they could not see him. 

His face was angular and stretched, the skin pulled tight across his rigid bones. Beneath his faintly hooked nose, his lips were thin and pale, almost non-existent. However, his eyes were sharp and black in grey, hollow sockets. His hands were placed on the table, his fingers formed a lattice in front of him as he stared back at Milo, his dark grey robes fading into the surrounding guests like spider webs and shadow.

“Milo…” whispered the man, his eyes swivelled upwards as he spoke.
Milo tried to answer, but his mouth was dry and dead. He could feel his tongue scatter to dust as he moved, his throat stripped bare of muscle and flesh.

“Milo…” said the man again, his hands slowly drifting apart. His face was tilted upwards, his eyes blazing with a lust for something above. His hands found the table and the man poured slowly onto the tabletop, his robes spilling across the food like poisoned water. Milo tried to react, but his hands were withered and old, like his dear grandmother's. The guests around him seemed oblivious to the man now standing on the table, his robe trailing into their laps and meals as his grey and cracked arms raised towards the sky.

Milo saw then, the green star had rushed onwards, its once faint green light now bathed the entire hall in a sickly glow. The man stood now, his arms outstretched to the onrushing fireball as if it were a child coming to its father. His face was no longer withered and dead, but joyous and wicked, his eyes black opals of desire and greed, and his mouth a jagged slit of vicious laughter. And still, Milo could not move, for his insides were dust. The light blazed forwards, the guests still laughing and smiling, for they could not see the danger that was bearing upon them.

“Milo…” the man said again, his hideous face curling into a mocking smile.

“Milo!” this time more deep and urgent as the green light drowned the hall.

“_Milo!_” his face cracked and the guests peeled away, their joyous faces still unconcerned as the light burned and charred them.

“_MILO!_”

- - - - - - - - - -

Vaerana raised her hand, her open palm hovered in the air as she motioned to Thalin. The mage stood tall in the cold mountain winds, then nodded and shouted the halfling’s name again. The harsh wind carried most of the shout away, but Milo’s eyes suddenly snapped open none the less. Vaerana did not see this and brought her hand downwards in a high arc, but Milo used this to thrust her sideways, pinning her in the foot deep snow, his boot-dagger at her throat.
“D-Don’t hit me a-again.” Milo chattered, his shuddering blue lips undermining what threat he might have meant.

Vaerana laughed carelessly, though she quickly remembered the scenes they had left behind in the village some three days ago. She shrugged the halfling off and stood up, brushing the snow away from her cloak, which was still the ragged red material that Milo remembered. Thalin hurried forwards to pick his companion up, though Milo pushed his hand away and struggled to his feet on his own accord. Mikka stood just behind Thalin and craned for a better view, though knew better than to say anything right now.

“Where are we?” Milo winced, as a sharp wind slated past. All about was the white blanket of thick snow, and the beleaguered faces of the village folk. He remembered little, only flashing images of the ettin’s attack, and an old woman in red seeming so sad. But everything was hazy, as if blinded by something.

“We’re on our way to Ilinvur. We have to travel through the Galena pass first though, we should reach there by night fall, if things go our way,” answered Thalin, his face creased with concern for his companion.
“Y-You just had some sort of seizure, that’s w-why we’re here, in the snow,” said Vaerana, her lips quivering from the cold as she spoke. The surrounding villagers, who numbered only twenty one, nodded in agreement as Vaerana continued, “we’ve been carrying you for three days, ever since we found you outside the village.”

Milo slowly stood up; his hair was matted with snow. The circle of townsfolk stepped backwards involuntarily, as if scared of him. They looked at him with equal measures of fear and hatred, though the halfling did not know that yet.
“Why do they step away from…” Milo asked, but his voice failed as his head rushed with pain and he crumpled to his knees. Thalin, Vaerana and Mikka dashed forwards to support the halfing, their strong grips carrying him back towards the sheltered cave.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious pressed the tips of his fingers into his forehead as he tried to concentrate, though nothing would help.
“He was my ward. Like my child. He needed to be protected from someone. You don’t have to understand it, just…” explained the old woman calmly, her hard features softened by the firelight in the cave.

The few villagers who had not chased after the writhing halfling watched in silence as the priest stalked across the cave again, a pandemonium of shadows on the far wall mimicking the aasimar’s movements. Torious halted suddenly, and the village children gasped in suspense.
“Old woman…” began Torious
“Errilinth.” retorted the old woman, her heavy red robes drawn close about her. A village maid giggled into her hand.
“Errilinth,” stated Torious, a sideways glare hushing the maid into silence before he continued, “you say that you and the child…”
“Merrick.”
“Yes, Merrick. You say that you and he travelled from Cormyr, which was where you met. Correct?”
Errilinth mused this over for a moment, “Yes.”
“So you are originally from Cormyr. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“But you have a Dalelands accent, if I am not mistaken.”
Torious turned away from the fire and the woman, his hands held triumphantly behind his back as he waited for her answer.

Errilinth paused for a moment, her sharp eyes watching the villagers with interest, their innocent faces hooked on every word of the debate. She winked at a clutch of small children who giggled and whispered between each other as Errilinth withdrew her pale hands from her red robe and began to curl a small arcane rune in the air.

“Have you no answer, woman?” Torious pressed.
“Not quite yet…” Errilinth answered with a sly grin as she completed the hand movements. She then pointed at the shadow of Torious against the cave wall. The children followed her long, gnarled finger, and then began to squeal with laughter as the shadowy form of a rabbit shyly poked its flat head out from Torious’ own shadow. 

Torious, too wrapped up in the questions he would ask next, ignored the child’s laughter and didn't notice as a small flurry of woodland animals began to depart from his shadow and assume poses along the cave wall. The remainder of the villagers began to laugh along with the children, their situation suddenly forgotten in the midst of Errilinth’s shadow puppetry.

But the laughter died abruptly as Vaerana, Mikka and Thalin crashed into the cave entrance holding Milo, followed by a flow of villagers who quickly darted towards the shadowed, gloomy rear of the cave. 
“Put the damned fire out!” hissed Mikka, his small feet stamping at the fringe of the roaring fire. Thalin spun around and the flames died with a wave of his hand, the light trickling out of the cave and into the steady white silence outside. Torious and Errilinth turned in concern to their companions, their debate cast aside as they both saw the obvious fear on the villagers faces that now crept through the cave as word of mouth spread about. Frightened whispers filled the dark.

A young child clutched desperately about Mikka’s leg as a shower of dirt rained from the cave ceiling, accompanied by a dull _thoom thoom_ that began to reach the tiefling's ears. The child buried his face into his doublet with fear. Mikka shushed him and held him close, his fingers ran through the child’s hair repeatedly, though more to calm his own nerves than to comfort the child.

“What is it?” asked Torious, his eyes searching the faces of the shivering villagers for an answer as another shower of dirt settled to the floor. The deep, heavy beat grew louder, many of the children began to cry, but were quickly held by their parents or friends, rough hands clamped over their mouths.

Thalin pressed himself against the shadowy cave wall and clutched onto Erifeci hard, his knuckles shining white as the whole cave began to shake. He looked across at Torious with a face worn haggard with fear and exhaustion, “Frost giants”.


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## Broccli_Head (Sep 9, 2002)

Gotta hate those vampire swords!


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## Black Bard (Sep 9, 2002)

FROST GIANTS???

Spider,you are so cruel...but, after their encounter with Klauth I think they can handle anything...

Or, maybe I'm wrong...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 11, 2002)

"CR never applies"

Thats a motto in the making. The whole campaign continues in this vein - I didn't want to consistently throw CR 3 encounters at a 3rd level party, I wanted the encounters to reflect the world.

For example, the Balrog is way outta the Fellowship's league (or is it?). Shelob would easily beat Sam on his own, but a lucky critical (and sound tactics) win the day. Where's the fun if every encounter is tailored for you? Bah.

And secondly, I'm a supporter of DnD parties _running_ from something. It happens all the time in fantasy books and films, why not here?

Also, roleplaying is thrusted to the fore, and not what + your sword is. 

I could talk a lot more on this, but I'm not going to. I hope you guys agree with me on this - I don't think I'm alone... am I?

[addition!] What did you guys think of the past tense as compared to the present? [addition!]

Spider (Lover of vampiric blades and unforseen side effects)


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## Broccli_Head (Sep 11, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *"CR never applies"
> 
> Thats a motto in the making.
> 
> ...




A DM after my own heart!

I love seeing PCs run and taking on more than they can chew. If they get lucky...awesome. If not, well hopefully they are wise enough to run and live to fight another day.


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## Black Bard (Sep 12, 2002)

*PCs on the run...*

I agree with you,folk...

I`m always striving to install this "dangerous atmosphere" while DMing, but, you know, sometimes (always...) my players simply don`t get the idea... 

This is especially bad when the campaign doesn`t support "resurrections" at all...

As for the change of present tense to past tense...REALLY good!!! 
I just hope that the frost giants don`t cause the same change on the characters...


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## Malessa (Sep 15, 2002)

Missed our Friday's session of story hour.   My hubby hooked up a second computer for me, so I was busy xfering files of school and art,(teacher work day) so there is no more arguing over computer time. But you better believe we will be here bright and early this Friday. Oh and don't worry about your writing do's and don'ts, we are simply here to enjoy your story, and so far, we are quite excited about it!


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## Black Bard (Sep 23, 2002)

*BUMP!!!*

Back to the top!!


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## ShawnLStroud (Sep 23, 2002)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> *I hope you guys agree with me on this - I don't think I'm alone... am I?
> 
> [addition!] What did you guys think of the past tense as compared to the present? [addition!]
> *




Present tense, past tense, tomato, tomahto;  I just dig the story!  Keep up the story and the cool events and I'll come back just to see what happens next!


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## Broccli_Head (Sep 26, 2002)

Waiting patiently for the next post....


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 27, 2002)

Bear with me guys... update soon...


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## Malessa (Oct 18, 2002)

Kerbump!

(hint, hint)


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 18, 2002)

Yeah, Spider, post!  I want an update too!

Oh, by the way, I really liked the last update - poor Milo, though... 

And, my own story hour has also been updated...see the link in my sig, and please leave a comment/bump if you do read the story hour...


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## Taboo (Oct 24, 2002)

I'm here waiting for an update.......


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Oct 24, 2002)

Good News: I haven't died and still intend to update.

Bad News: University work is cramping my brain. I have some free time coming up soon and I'll flex myself back into writing then. Hang in there guys. Ice, Luck and Honour _will_ return. I promise you.

Spider.


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## Ruined (Oct 24, 2002)

Well, it gives me time to catch up with the full story. Doesn't help the other faithful readers, but oh well...


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## Black Bard (Oct 28, 2002)

I`m glad to see that you`re still alive, Spider...Really!!
I hope that the characters stay alive too... 

Anyway, looking forward to another post!!!


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## Ruined (Oct 30, 2002)

Yayy, I'm caught up to the current point of the story, and it has been well worth it, Spider!  I usually don't go into a lot of detail in my bumps and praise, but I will say that this is excellent work.

The present/past tense didn't matter to me at all, because the writing is solid.  The adversarial relationship with Lyle was great. I really liked the 'bad side' of Vampire - flawed or partially cursed weapons always intrigue me.

Anyways, I look forward to the next installment.


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## Taboo (Nov 23, 2002)

Spider????? 

I'm still waiting..... I miss you!

Tab


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## freedoms_edge (Dec 2, 2002)

Yeah come on Spider, I want to know what happens next! Yak. (Even though I played it - my memory ain't to hot)

Love Torious.

(Sly Bump).


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## Femerus the Gnecro (Feb 3, 2003)

Alrighty.  I've updated... now it's your turn.  

Tag!  You're it!

-F


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 21, 2004)

*Broken Promises...*

Dear All,

Firstly, I would like to apologise for the lateness of the next update. Yes, I agree, two years is pushing it a little.

However, I have a plethora of ready-made excuses to dish out. Thing is, I'm not going to use any of them, other than to say university takes a dash more time than I was expecting. 

Now I have finished my course and have a reasonable amount of free time on my hands, so I shall attempt another promise: [oath]_This Story Hour Will Be Written_[/oath]. I have been itching for a good few months now to plunge back into this and now I am.

It would be a great honour if you gentle and noble readers could leap back in from the point at which Ice, Luck and Honour left off. And a rather strange welcome to new readers! I hope you like it thus far, and take my word for it when I say it gets far more hectic from here on in... 

As of now, updates should be once a week. Also, hopefully, the characters players may well frequent this thread from time to time so feel free to post up questions.

Yours endearingly,

Spider Jerusalem


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 21, 2004)

*Eye of the Blizzard*

Part 3 of 3

The thunder of the frost giants filled the cave. Deep, wide rivers of sound rushed past the cowered figures that crouched cold and silent in the shadows of the cave. A stretching whine from the domed ceiling heralded the birth of a thick crack that struck like lightning across the ragged stone. A child-sized slab of rock thudded heavily onto the smoking remains of the fire, sending a curtain of dust pouring to the floor below. The younger villagers screamed then, their guardians unable to keep the fear from escaping, though the roar from above drowned the wails out.

Thalin stood shakily in front of the villagers, his whole body vibrating as he shouted and motioned to the back of the cave. Mikka grasped the arm of the child holding onto his leg and ran towards the cave rear, his other arm waving for the other children to follow. They did so in a flurry of shrieks and whimpers, dragging anyone near them with them as dust continued to fall. Dariel swooped to the back of the cave, his frightened calls joining with the cries of the children. Isplit was crouched next to the owl, gauging whether there was time enough for one last biscuit.

Torious watched as the townsfolk were herded to the rear of the cave and away from the widening cracks. With a sickening realisation, Torious knew if the ceiling was to collapse, then they would all be trapped. As the villagers moved, a large slab broke loose with a grating screech. Reacting almost immediately, the aasimar dove forwards and smashed into the falling slab with his shield. Torious heaved under the weight of the slab and crunched to the floor, pushing the heavy rock just enough to avoid the cowering villager beneath it. Torious rocked backwards in pain, a long dark scythe of agony burrowed up through his shield hand and the aasimar involuntarily flared his scars in a burst of blinding light.

Thalin turned away from the villagers as the scar-light faded, his face drawn and haggard with defeat as another shower of dusted ice billowed over him.
“I’m sorry my friends, I led you astray”
Vaerana pushed the last of the townsfolk into the recesses of the cave, where Errilinth stroked the children’s heads and spoke soothing words to them, which seemed to calm them almost immediately. Pointing an accusing finger at Thalin as another rumble of footsteps shook overhead, Vaerana scowled as she spoke, “Don’t you dare! This is not over yet.”

Torious stood slowly up to his full height, his left arm knitting back into place with a ripple of muscle and a wet crunch. Snarling through the pain as his fingers began to flex again, he looked over the assembled men, women, halflings and thieves before him. “We do not die here Thalin. None of us do. Tyr’s justice does not fell the worthy”
Thalin whirled in a rage at the aasimar, “Listen to yourself, you idiot! Where is your damned god now?!”

As Thalin’s words died away another jagged crack raced across the dome of the cave. The villager’s screams echoed off the walls as the weight of the ice above them began to give way with an ominous grinding. Thalin, Torious and Vaerana all turned in confusion as the voices of Milo and Mikka, now stood directly under the creaking ice, were mirroring each others arcane gestures with intense concentration, their fingers slicing through the air and words chanted in unison. Thalin’s brow furrowed as he raced to decipher the incantations.

With a shout of the exertion, Milo and Mikka ended the summoning with an opportune high-five. Arcane power pulsed through the cave as small chunks of ice that were falling slowed in mid air and slotted neatly back into the ceiling of the cave. The sorcerous duo’s face exploded in triumph as they guided their invisible helpers over the ceiling, but they both knew it would not last long.

With a final thrash of thunder, the footsteps above them began to recede. 

“Fly you fools!” cried Milo, as the cracks on the ceiling menacingly branched out and a cascade of dust filled the cave.
Vaerana and Torious were already ahead of their companions as they pulled the villagers to their feet and herded them towards the entrance. Thalin dashed out into the grey night of the blizzard, which had lost a little of it’s ferocity since the departure of the giants. Holding Erifeci aloft, Thalin cried “Eci!” and drove the crystal end into the knee-deep snow. For a moment nothing happened, then with a pulse of energy that popped Thalin’s ears, a perfect circle of snow melted in an instant and flowed towards the edges of the spell, where it quickly re-froze. 

The villagers stumbled into the circle, the darkness of the blizzard that whirled around them transforming into a light rain as it entered the bubble. As the stooped form of Errilinth guided out the last of the townsfolk, Torious turned back to the cave to see Milo and Mikka edging towards the exit with hands pointed at the ceiling. A deep web of cracks arched over their retreat. _They weren’t going to make it_.

Without a thought, Torious dashed back into the cave, Thalin’s face dropping in amazement at the aasimar’s stupidity. With a howl of exertion, Torious grabbed onto the hems of Milo’s and Mikka’s shirts and vaulted backwards, their arms and legs flailing. The arcane helpers disappeared with a sigh, Milo reminded himself in mid-flight to thank them later.

“Thalin! The ice!” shouted Torious as he hit the floor, the half-men scattered on top of him. A thunder of ice rushed towards them from the back of the cave as the roof gave way. As Torious, Milo and Mikka dove for the cave exit, Thalin reacted in a split second and unleashed three shards of crackling energy into the falling slabs. With a blast of blue light the blocks of ice shattered, exploding in a cloud of mist and leaving just enough time for Milo and Mikka to haul the trailing Torious into the night air. With a blast of air and a spray of water, the adventurers watched the rush of ice surround them and flow over the magical dome. 

Before he had time to breath a sigh of relief, Thalin felt a bony hand clutch at his arm, and turning to look at the aged face of Errilinth, managing a weak smile as she carefully placed Erifeci back into his hands.
“Where did you get that staff?” asked Errilinth, looking wryly at Thalin from beneath the folds of her red hood.
Suddenly, the burnt man’s warning of _You cannot trust that woman in red_ melted into Thalin’s thoughts and he answered guardedly, “It was passed on to me”
“I understand,” Errilinth smiled thinly, “truly I do”
Thalin smiled back, uncertain what this meant. Errilinth forced a dry laugh, and turned back to the children of the village. Thalin watched as the old woman pointed out the way they would next be travelling to the children, informing them of the wonderful views they would get when they crossed through the next pass. Wondering whether this woman was a threat at all, he turned back to the remainder of the villagers and was surprised to see them looking at him, their eyes expectant. He knew what he had to do.

Breathing deeply and looking at every villager in turn, Thalin spoke clearly, “We can stay here no longer. We must reach lower ground. The town of Ilinvur only lies a few days walk away, we should make shelter by night fall if we do not stop.”
“Thalin.” said Mikka, stepping closer to the mage and placing a hand on his back, “these people need rest. If we travel now we must stop at daybreak”
Thalin sighed heavily and glancing at the tired faces surrounding him, and knew it was true. “We rest at daybreak. Get everyone ready.” 
Mikka nodded solemnly, then turned towards the cross-legged Milo and winked, showing him a handful of the mage’s silver pieces.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious withdrew Freedom’s Edge from the flailing Peryton and stepped back as the life drained from its beaded eyes.
“Justice found you too late, demon” spat Torious, looking back at the folded body of a village child, an estranged mother wailing into the sky.
Vaerana threw her shield into the snow and swept her hair away from her face, wincing as the talon gash on her shoulder stung with pain. She waved at the huddled villagers and gave a thumbs-up, only just maintaining a smile as pain shot through her shoulder again.

Milo, Thalin and Mikka stood around the felled body of the Peryton, their respective crossbow bolts slanting into the air from the beasts bulk. 
The villagers scampered over to the mother and her dead child, chiding Tymora for such ill fortune and dragging the shaking woman away from her son. Milo considered telling them Tymora was a personal friend, but thought better of it. 

The sound of sawing made the halfling turn around, joining Thalin to watch as Mikka hurriedly cut through one of the thick Peryton antlers. Stopping and looking up like a captured animal, Mikka cried defensively, “It’s very rare. They’re worth at least a hundred gold pieces on the Streets of Amn”. Thalin shook his head and walked away. Milo quickly unsheathed Vampire and began to help.

Torious’ boots crunched in the snow as he came to a stop next to Vaerana, his eyes following her gaze into the valley that lay spread before them.
“That’s Ilinvur” said Vaerana, her voice sad.
Torious nodded slowly, his aasimar eyes picking out the distant cluster of buildings, “It’s not that far, perhaps another days walk”
“Perhaps”
Torious glanced at Vaerana, her profile a deep red against the slopes of white, “You’re hurt” Torious said with obvious concern, noticing the crimson stain that was spreading across her shoulder.
“Torious, it’s nothing, I’m fine. Go and tend to the townsfolk.”
“No,” said Torious, his hand reaching up to Vaerana’s shoulder. Vaerana pushed away from him quickly, her face twitching in pain as her arm jarred against Torious’ armour. Torious gripped her arms tight, careful not to hurt twist her shoulder any more, “You’re not fine. Let me help.”
Vaerana tensed for a moment before turning her shoulder towards Torious, “Thank you”

Milo stood next to Mikka, each of the half men holding an antler just as tall as they were. Milo nudged the tiefling and pointed at Torious and Vaerana, then mimed being sick. Thalin lightly cuffed the halfling round the head as he walked past, the procession of villagers drifting behind him as he began to tread towards the valley floor. 

Thalin glanced at Torious and Vaerana, the aasimar’s hands placed lightly on the woman’s shoulder, both of them gazing into the valley beneath them. 
“Don’t be a fool” whispered Thalin under his breath, his thoughts once again swimming with the warning of the burnt man: _You cannot trust that woman in red._…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 10: Another Brick in the Wall*

The heroes descend into the valley, but their way is blocked by a heavily guarded border-wall. As Thalin pulls out all the stops in his first mage-duel, Torious’ negotiation skills are pushed to the limit, and Milo succumbs again to the thirst of Vampire, will the heroes make it through in one piece?


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## freedoms_edge (Jul 27, 2004)

Horrible thought - if its been two years since the last post, that means its at least 4 years since we did this campaign.

All I can remember from the above encounter is thinking - we're dead. again. sigh. I do love a DM who always has you thinking 'character death' around every corner.

P.S. You'll see a lot of Torious' scars flaring with light, i thought it would have looked cool at the time.

Get re-reading guys, spiders back...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 27, 2004)

> We're dead. again. sigh.



But Torious, that which does not kill you makes you stronger. And I seem to remember you being a slight badass as the campaign progressed. At times. Once or twice. Maybe once. Perhaps.

By the way, for those readers who don't know, *freedoms_edge* is Torious' player.

On a literary note, I'm chopping back the chapter lengths a little, because I'm getting the feeling that perhaps they are a little long. Well, same chapter lengths but in pieces, broken into parts like chapter 9 was. Well, anyway. Actually, rethink that, I'm going back through the posts now and splitting them up a little with part 1, part 2 and all that jazz.

Spider


_Spider stalks the underdark, looking for unwitting listeners. Then, from the shadows prances a little ugly face attached to a shrivelled hairy mistake of a body.
 - Hi there buddy! I'm Gobnobbin! Your friendly tinker gnome!
Spider casts Maximised, Quickened Disintegrate._


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 28, 2004)

*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 10: Another Brick in the Wall*
Part 1 of 4

Middle/Late Winter, Realms Date 1372


Milo stood next to Mikka, each of the half men holding an antler just as tall as they were. Milo nudged the tiefling and pointed at Torious and Vaerana, then mimed being sick. Thalin lightly cuffed the halfling round the head as he walked past, the procession of villagers drifting behind him as he began to tread towards the valley floor. 

Thalin glanced at Torious and Vaerana, the aasimar’s hands placed lightly on the woman’s shoulder, both of them gazing into the valley beneath them. 
“Don’t be a fool” whispered Thalin under his breath, his thoughts once again swimming with the warning of the burnt man: _You cannot trust that woman in red._…

- - - - - - - - -

Thalin and Torious walked shoulder to shoulder in silence, their faces both flecked by ice. Thalin’s scraggly beard had grown into a wiry brown mane, though his eyes darted as quick as ever in their sunken sockets. Both adventurers instinctively slowed as the path suddenly widened, spreading out on both sides to form a flat, level field whose sides sharply rose in two hills of snow. A fortified wall lay between the hills, a huge gatehouse standing sentinel where the road ran through it. This was the entrance into the valley.

Waving for everyone to stop, Torious crouched down onto his haunches and brought his keen sight to bear. His eyes focused over the length of the wall, its frosted stonework tying together the two snow-strewn slopes. The wall was perhaps ten feet tall but he assumed it to be quite thick, as figures stood on the ramparts. Soldiers glinted in the morning light as they slowly traipsed the walls in twos or threes. Torious counted perhaps twenty guards in total, but of course, more would be inside. His eyes fell finally onto the frost bitten gates, their heavy wood latticed with iron and a glistening red symbol of Kossuth bolted on, apparently having only just been finished. The aasimar looked back over his shoulder at Thalin, Milo, Mikka and Vaerana with a disgusted shake of his head. 

Milo and Mikka sat playing a game of snap with a handful of skee, the clatter of the little slate pieces the only sound as Torious carefully picked his way towards them. He crouched down and snatched Milo’s winning stone away.
“Hey!” Milo bleated,
“Milo. Shut up. This is bad, I don’t know if we can get through there”
Thalin folded his arms and pulled his wolf skin cloak a littler tighter as a chill climbed up his spine, “Well, we can’t go back now. Who’s to say we can’t just walk through?”
“Robar does. He would have told them to watch out for us, he knows we’re alive”, Torious countered, his voice a steely growl, “His sins will burn in justices wrathful glare!”
Mikka chimed in, his voice chattering in the cold, “Easy now. This isn’t really the time for rash decisions. We need to get to the plains before my bottle of Vassan red freezes, it will be ruined”, Mikka saw the others glare at him, “And save those poor villagers, of course”.

Torious pushed himself to a stand, craning his vision over the boulder they all crouched behind, his eyes traced over the length of the wall, then across the right hand snow ridge till his eyes fell to his own feet. Moments later, he had clawed his way up the small cliff face. Making sure the wall couldn’t see him, he looked back down at his assorted companions. They stared back up at him. Torious felt a strange feeling of majesty, but knocked that feeling on the head as he concentrated on the task at hand.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo wriggled a little closer, his body pressed flat into the snow as he slowly melted into the cover of the jagged crest of rock. His frozen fingers felt slow and unresponsive. Milo imagined them to be yellow and black inside his bearskin gloves. He clutched his crossbow tight to his chest, wary that the wide sleek bow was too large to be fully hidden behind the rocks. Milo was close enough that he could make out snatches of the guards conversation when the wind died a little, which wasn’t often. He strained to see back to the grey blotch of the boulder in the distance, mentally following back his route and secretly applauding himself on getting this far without being seen.  

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin stamped his feet again in an attempt to shake the creep of cold up his legs, and made a final check on the villagers. They stood huddled beneath a glazed overhang, tufts of hair and the occasional face poking from beneath the mass of cloaks and bodies. The mage nodded slowly to Errilinth, whose wood-carved features were cracked into a wide smile for the townsfolk, her hands soothed thoughts and quelled cries before they started. Thalin frowned and resolved to uncover this woman’s powers once he could have a proper talk to her.

Mikka was stood next to Vaerana, the tiefling displaying a little funnel-shaped device, which turned the snow into multicoloured bubbles. Thalin approached.
“…and of course, its perfect for children’s parties. They love this stuff.” Crooned Mikka, his salesperson voice having zero affect on Vaerana.
“Why would there be snow at a child’s party?” Queried Vaerana.
“Why of course, they are young Vaasan children! And their greatest joy is snow! And bubbles.”
“Well yes, but…”

Vaerana’s retort was cut short by the baying of a horn. Thalin sprung forward and looked over the boulder. The gates of the wall were opening. The horn continued to blare and the gate heaved open. Inside Thalin could see a small yard leading to a second exit gate. A detachment of six red-cloaked knights wheeled in the small space, then bolted towards the gates. Their crimson platemail glared suddenly brilliant in the sun, reminding Thalin of a newly cut wound. Breaking into a gallop as they thundered towards the hidden companions, the lead horseman unfurled a banner that snapped and hissed in the biting wind. _A burning head on a blood red background_. Panic writhed in his chest as he realised that there was no time to hide.....


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## ShawnLStroud (Jul 29, 2004)

Just some thoughts:

1.  I am *so* happy that this story is back.  Thanks for returning, Spider!
2.  This story line is really cool!  I keep wanting to pull out my *Forgotten Realms* books and research the area -- with an eye towards running some of the plotlines myself!
3.  *Please* keep up the good work!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 29, 2004)

ShawnLStroud, thanks for the comments - I'm glad you're back! I wonder if some of the other regulars will claw their way back on? Yes, Milo, Thalin and Torious are here to stay. In fact, the next update should be tomorrow night (today being thursday in the city).



> This story line is really cool! I keep wanting to pull out my Forgotten Realms books and research the area -- with an eye towards running some of the plotlines myself!




Buddy, I would love think these plot lines are spreading out to other games. Feel free to poach whatever you like. Oh, if you need stats for anything then just ask and I'll give it a go trying to root around in the campaign folder (I really should organise that at some point). 

Unfortunately I really can't post up the stats of some of the side characters at this point - Mikka, Vaerana, Robar etc etc - because it would impact on the story as a whole. Anyway, it would ruin everything if I told you now that Mikka is a god... He's not, before you start a-wondering. He's just a tiefling. 

But anyway, let me know what you guys think. [Movie Guy Voice]As long as there are readers, the adventures will continue.[/Movie Guy Voice]

Ps. Just as a side note, the characters levelled up just before they reached the wall. Thalin just got granted a level 3 spell slot. Guess what he picked (hint, it's an altered spell, just for him).

Yours truly,

Spider


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## Broccli_Head (Jul 30, 2004)

Yay! I missed these characters and this story. Glad your back.


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## Black Bard (Jul 30, 2004)

Yeah, glad you`re back, Spider!!!
But now I must read the story all over again...  
I can live with that...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Jul 31, 2004)

Broccli_Head! Black Bard! Great to have you guys back on board. 

My computer is being an absolute nightmare at the moment. I won't go into details, suffice to say I would love to put my fist through the screen. 

Update incoming... 

Yours,
Spider (who is rubbing his hands together at the next installment, because it heralds the arrival of the first _Emberguard_ in the story. Torious loves these things. Oh no wait, thats right, he *hates* them...)


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 2, 2004)

Part 2 of 4

Milo thrashed deeper into the hillock of snow as the gates groaned open to the sound of the horn. Isplit’s sharp weasel claws dug into his chest as Milo caught his breath. The horn call pitched higher for a note then stopped. Sorcerer and familiar trembled as the thunder of the knights shook the ground they lay on and filled the air with explosions of ice.

The horse’s hooves crashed past only a few feet from his huddled form. Twisting his head to the side, and feeling the cold crackle into his ear, Milo watched as the knights galloped up towards Thalin and the villagers. Unlatching the safety on his crossbow, Milo swung his aim on the receding knights, and began to steady his shivering hands.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin whirled towards the villagers, and beckoned them to be quiet with an urgent swipe of his father’s sword. Thalin closed his eyes for a moment and narrowed his concentration. His mind reached out to Dariel, who was huddled with the villagers for warmth, _Quickly my friend, fly to the fore and tell me what we have to face_. Thalin felt Dariel snap to attention, the sudden rush of synergy like a gust of wind in his mind. He then turned to the corner the knights would soon come round, his hands crackling with a nimbus of energy as Dariel blurred past, spiralling into the blue sky with a screech.

Mikka stooped behind Thalin, his nervous hands shakily loading a bolt into an ornate crossbow, which has mysteriously appeared from the folds of his cloak. He cursed his Amnish contacts as the intricate mechanism slipped out of line for a second time.

Vaerana pressed herself against the rear of the boulder, her longsword drawn and makeshift helmet covering her face. Her shield-hand flexed impatiently in its strap as she prepared to close off the knights’ escape.

As the hooves of the horses drew closer, Thalin’s fingers began to draw delicate runes in the air, despite his fingers screeching with resistance. Mikka threw the beautiful but useless crossbow to the ground with a grunt of anger and began to do the same. _Where was Torious?_

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious let _Freedom’s Edge_ drop into the snow with a crunch. His eyes darted between the eight figures that stood encircling him, their crude weapons hemming him in. Each captor was wrapped in a montage of animal pelts, some still bearing the heads of the unfortunate victims. Torious raised his hands a little higher as a tip of a spear scraped across his armour.
“I am Torious. Aasimar of Ravens Bluff.” declared Torious in a defiant voice that seemed to be swallowed by the snow his boots were knee deep in.

One of the figures stepped forwards, his array of pelts a more splendid selection of colours than the others, he came within a pace of the aasimar, then stopped. Torious could see between the strips of hide to the face beneath. The man’s skin was charred black and blistered cracks of blood had frozen solid. As he spoke, Torious could smell a burnt waft of breath on his face.

The language which grunted from the burnt mans mouth was Ulutian. Torious knew this much from his experience of listening to Thalin barter with traders. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the foresight to get to grips with what he had considered to be an entirely unneeded and almost dead language. However, these Ulutian barbarians were very much alive.

The burnt man finished speaking with a flourish to his companions, who acknowledged his speech with a host of aggressive grunts. Torious could see that most of the other barbarians were scarred with painful burns. _This is Robar’s doing. These men pursue the heads of the demons who marked them._ Torious nodded slowly before raising his hand towards the gate wall, then pointed to his path back. He was quite a height above the wall, and whilst he was gesturing towards the border wall he noticed a steep snowdrift, which led from his current position directly onto the ramparts of the wall many feet below. 

Turning back to the barbarians, whose weapons had eased a little, Torious went to speak but his voice caught in his throat as he heard the baying of a horn from the border wall. _Thalin and Milo! Vaerana! The Villagers!    Mikka._

The barbarians seemed to tense as a group as below them they saw the detachment of knights ride out of the gates. Grunts rose to snarls and snarls led to roars of anger. Torious pushed through the barrier of weapons, the barbarians suddenly lost in a chorus of war cries. His aasimar eyes focused quickly, picking out the near-invisible form of Milo as the halfling swung his crossbow towards the knights. With a sudden rush of panic he saw a pair of guards on the wall point at Milo’s uncovered form. Quickly tracing the route of the knights ahead of them, Torious picked out the figures of Thalin, Vaerana and Mikka as they readied to attack the knights. 

Torious pushed his way into the throng of barbarians and hefted _Freedom’s Edge_ from the snow. Assessing the situation, he stabbed his sword into the air and began to speak in a commanding cry,
“Ulutian men! Your time has come!”, Torious swept his arm across the gate as the barbarians turned to him, their faces already swelled with hate. The swell of the horn ended, leaving a sudden silence. Torious’ voice swelled to a new volume, his words booming as the search for justice swelled inside him.
“Follow me and justice will be yours!” cried Torious, his last words slipping into a trembling howl of celestial fury.
With a torrent of light, his scars stretched open. Torious turned and launched himself down the snowdrift and towards the border wall, the Ulutians just behind.

- - - - - - - - - -

The knights rounded the corner in a surge of banners, platemail and steeds. Thalin immediately whipped his hands forwards, violently clawing into the minds of the knights. He pulled his fists back with a shout and four of them slumped into unconsciousness. Two of the sleeping knights bucked backwards and crashed into the snow. The other two steeds bolted forwards, thundering out of sight with their riders bouncing wildly. 

Vaerana dashed forwards and slashed at the trailing knight who was still awake. His horse bucked but he stayed seated. The knight wheeled his steed around to escape. He was halted as Milo’s perfectly timed crossbow bolt hissed into his face, punching through the visor. The remaining knight kicked his heels and bolted forwards, lowering his lance at Thalin, “For Robar!”

Mikka stumbled backwards as the knight wheeled just past him. He quickly finished his spell and let loose.

Thalin drew Erifeci up instinctively to protect himself from the lance. He felt the tip punch against his chest, but then only heard the tinkling of glass. Looking up, Thalin saw the knight rush past as the shattered remnants of his lance crumbled from his gauntlet. Mikka winked at the mage before dashing to cover the knight’s path back to the wall.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo loaded the next bolt quickly as he watched his first shot, which he had infused with a healthy dose of Tymora’s luck, zip to its target. The knight had collapsed onto the road. _If I can see that, the whole wall can as well_! Milo cocked his crossbow and contemplated his next move as he saw Dariel dive over him and whip over the battlements at a great speed. 

Twisting to check his next target, Milo was dashed back against the snow as a bolt burrowed into his shoulder. With a shriek of pain, Milo dragged himself back into his meagre cover and uncorked a healing potion with his good arm. Isplit nudged out of his waistcoat with a squeak and pointed disapprovingly at his biscuit, which was snapped in two by the bolt.

- - - - - - - - - -

Vaerana glided sideways past the knight as he charged her down. Sliding her sword neatly into his side, she used her momentum to lever the rider from his mount. With a thud he crashed into the snow. 

Thalin stalked over and dragged Vaerana back into cover. The wall horn bayed again, this time higher and more urgent. Thalin turned to address his companions, but convulsed suddenly and collapsed to the ground clutching his chest. Three quick wrenches of pain stabbed through Thalin, it felt as though a wolverine was writhing in his chest, biting its way out.

- - - - - - - - - -

High above the fort, Dariel’s limp form plummeted towards the ground. His feathers charred black from the three fiery orbs, which had sped up to greet him as he had soared over the gatehouse…


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 2, 2004)

Oh yes, chapter 10 has become a bit of a whopper. It's spread from 3 parts to 4, so no _Emberguard_ in this installment, whoops.

Let me know what you guys think as so far...

Spider


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## freedoms_edge (Aug 2, 2004)

Christ, thats something to look forward to, Emberguard!

If i had a gold piece for everytime emberguard caused Torious trouble, i'd have a deck of many things by now.

Now THAT would have been fun.


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## freedoms_edge (Aug 9, 2004)

Apologies from Spider everyone, his computer has officially died a death, so he has been unable to post the next chapter. He's gonna try and post it either later today (Monday) or tomorrow. He asks you all to bear with him, and he'll get the next xhapter up asap.


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## Milo whittersbane (Aug 12, 2004)

*Let the righteous water of Tymmora flow*

OOOhhh we are getting to a good bit. Where Milo gets to show what he is truly made of.   I can't remeber have i even got my most prized possessin yet? Plus have we met the big red scarey monster?

Sorry don't want to ruin it so am being vague


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Aug 31, 2004)

Apologies to everyone waiting for this. Hey Milo, good to see you floating about. And yes, Milo starts to come into his own (not that the little guy already hasn't - trust me when I say he was a tough nut to crack and that sneak attack is a geewhiz when it works - bloody TrueStrike). ANYWAY. Last section of Another Brick in the Wall coming soon. Hope you like this one. Spider.

Part 3 of 4


As Thalin crashed to the ground, Mikka sprung into action. His hands were a blur as a protective spell melted into existence around the fallen mage. The warning horn of the border wall ceased abruptly. 
“Thalin! Get up!” cried Mikka as he edged to get a view of the wall from behind the boulder.

Thalin squirmed to his knees, “Dariel,” his breathing heavy and ragged, “Dariel!”
His mind called too, and a feint thrum of life pulsed back. Thalin felt Dariel’s pain. Thalin’s chest felt collapsed and his arms felt shattered, but they were not. Dariel’s were. The sharp focus of reality washed over him, the ice crystals that he crouched over glinted in the sun, like a hundred stars lain at his feet.
“Mikka,” said Thalin as he drew himself to his feet. “Make me fast”
Mikka felt obliged to ask for a ‘please’ but thought better of it. As he cast the spell, Mikka looked up at Thalin, whose eyes were clouded white, and he noticed that Thalin too was weaving his hands in the air. The tiefling finished the incantation with ten claps that got quicker and quicker. A pop of energy sunk into Thalin. At the same time a shimmer of ice shot over the mage’s skin. 
“Keep this safe. If someone should attack, escape and take it to Tilverton,” said Thalin to Mikka as he unslung Erifeci and placed it into his hands, his face stern. 
“Righto. And what then?”
“I don’t know,” answered Thalin truthfully. 

With a final flick of his wrist, Thalin’s scimitar _Shard_ was coated in a crackling coat of frost, the air near the blade hissing in protest. Crouching down, he looked at Mikka, “if you sell that staff, I’ll give Torious your family tree.”
Mikka gave a look of hurt as Thalin launched forward and out of the protection of the boulder, his body moving at a blinding speed. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo sent the string of little lights up into the air, their fuzzy bodies bumping and spinning together. Seconds later, a crossbow bolt zipped through them. Choosing his moment carefully, Milo crouched forwards and jumped towards the wall. He heard the call of the guards as they saw him move. _Dammnit_. The silhouette of a guard’s helmet was momentarily eclipsed against the sky, and Milo loosed a bolt upwards.

The guard toppled forwards and crunched heavily into the snow. Reloading the next bolt, Milo saw the billowing robes of Thalin as he sped across the open plains, a crackling blue sword in his hand. Milo shrugged and felt the bolt tense into position. The guards above him began to fire shots at the sprinting mage. Using the brief respite, Milo kissed Tymora’s Ring and vaulted upwards. With a whoosh of magical energy and a shriek of battle, Milo back-flipped onto the wall.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin counted his steps as the crossbow bolts zipped past him. One bolt had grazed his side but he had kept his momentum, and most importantly, his spell. With his last two steps he kicked forwards onto the rough wall. His gloves and boots stuck fast. 

Momentarily stunned by vertigo, Thalin heard a bolt sluice through the air under his chin, and he quickly climbed upwards.

A guard rushed to the battlements and leant over. His body shook once then slumped backwards, a crater of frost where his visor once was. Thalin crept onto the parapet and surveyed the scene below.

The courtyard was small and paved. A thin slush of ice covered the stonework, and the milieu of guards kicked and splashed about in it. He thought of his years as a boy in the courtyard in his father’s castle. A crossbow bolt thudded into shoulder but magic slivered across it in an instant and it fell away in a fine dust.

“Dariel!” shouted Thalin again, both out loud and in his mind. An immediate screech came from the wall on the other side of the courtyard, where Thalin saw the white flash of Dariel’s wingtip in the shadow of a battlement. Two more bolts whistled into his body, Thalin only feeling a faint push before they fell away into dust. 

Thalin let a laugh escape his lips. _Such a pitiful resistance_. His thoughts crumpled in his mind as three fiery orbs erupted into the cold air from the centre of the courtyard and streaked towards him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious plunged forwards, the frozen top layer of snow cracking under his weight as he leaped onwards. The Ulutian’s had drawn level to him now, their awkward gait suddenly seeming perfect for this kind of descent. Torious had watched as Thalin and Milo had stormed the wall. Guards were dropping quickly, though not quickly enough.

Reaching the end of the snowdrift, Torious felt his boots thud onto the wall. He still had to reach the gatehouse, and the bolts that had begun to whistle past had to be dealt with.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo landed perfectly on the inner parapet, an opening bolt pitching a guard forwards and off of the wall. Two lumbering guards, each wearing the insignia of Robar, lurched towards him. Milo weaved sideways and unsheathed _Sliverspike_, though he found that his fingers had instead found _Vampire_. With no time to change, Milo brushed the first guard to the side and traced his sword over the achilles heel of the second. The small sting of pain on Milo’s hand was quickly subdued by a surge of energy, speed and strength. And thirst.

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin gasped as the orbs blasted into him, his skin suddenly blistering and bursting as the energy crawled through his skin. Staggering back from the force of the attack, Thalin pushed himself to a stand. Another shower of bolts cascaded into dust around him. Dariel’s wheezing breath began to falter, and Thalin felt a rip of pain deep in his chest. _I will not lose you, my friend_.

Thalin felt the air crackle with magic as his hands instinctively pulled the elements under his control. Below him, the guards had lined themselves in two rows of crossbowmen. _That won’t save you. Not from me_. Thalin’s eyes frosted over and his clothes prickled with a cold sweat. His hands moulded the surging energy together. 

The guards fired again, and from the fog of dust came back a nimbus of frost, which sped into the centre of their ranks. With a sound like someone sharply taking in breath, the unit of crossbowmen crusted white with frost. Their bodies stood as statues, the lethal plummet in temperature leaving their blood frozen and their flesh rock hard. 

Dropping down into the courtyard, Thalin could only hear the sound of Milo’s cries, Torious’ far off battle howls and the soft tinkle of the dead crossbowmen. Almost lost in the moment, Thalin just managed to bring up the crackling _Shard_ in time to deflect the swing of a flaming scimitar. Whirling to confront his enemy, Thalin found himself face to face with four identical men. Each held a blazing sword of fire....


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## Broccli_Head (Aug 31, 2004)

Nice imagery...  

waiting for Torius and co. to pour over the walls....


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 3, 2004)

Cheers Broccli_Head,

Yeah, Torious' player (yes you Freedom's Edge) got pretty psyched for the whole whipping-barbarians-into-frenzy-to-storm-wall scenario. 

The speech that Torious gave in front of the Ulutian's doesn't really do justice to his player's real life attempt. 
Think Maximus priming his troops, Theoden leading the Riders, Achilles rallying his men. 
It was none of these. The rest of us could not stop laughing. Though to be truthful, it was achingly funny, but also had nuggets of a really good speech.

[DM gets misty eyed]Yep, these players are great, swinging into anything I throw at them, and refusing to do the sane thing and run away. All of them are superb roleplayers, and up to this point, the adventure was pretty standard. Coming soon the characters start to get ensnared by various things (feuds, women, chains, wine, collapsing shops, dragon's claws) and they deal with them beautifully, though never the way I imagined they would. Ah well. Sigh. Cheers guys.[DM gets misty eyed]

PS: From now on, I really tried to kill them. And it largely worked. Sorry Torious, you were usually the last one to turn and run.

Wow, this has turned into a rant. Listen to me. 

I wanted to answer Milo's windward remarks: 


> I can't remeber have i even got my most prized possessin yet? Plus have we met the big red scarey monster?



If your prized possession is what I think it is, then no, though soon enough. Big red scary monster? Which one?!? Though Klauth turns up again at some point...

4 of 4 coming soon (_finally_ an emberguard turns up - sorry for stringing everyone along thus far).

Okay, most of you have skipped to here.

Spider


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## haiiro (Sep 5, 2004)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> Okay, most of you have skipped to here.




Guilty! 

Actually, I've felt like a heel because you've been such a staunch supporter of my SH, and I've been daunted by the size of yours -- it's a lot of material to tuck into, and up until now I haven't done so. Your comment today, though, made me realize that was just an excuse.

Starting at the "end," however, really made me want to go back and read the rest of it, which I'll be doing after dinner. 

A few things that jumped out at me:



> Milo thrashed deeper into the hillock of snow as the gates groaned open to the sound of the horn. Isplit’s sharp weasel claws dug into his chest as Milo caught his breath. The horn call pitched higher for a note then stopped. Sorcerer and familiar trembled as the thunder of the knights shook the ground they lay on and filled the air with explosions of ice.






> Isplit nudged out of his waistcoat with a squeak and pointed disapprovingly at his biscuit, which was snapped in two by the bolt.






> The courtyard was small and paved. A thin slush of ice covered the stonework, and the milieu of guards kicked and splashed about in it. He thought of his years as a boy in the courtyard if his father’s castle.




The level of detail -- and the skillful application of just the right _amount_ of detail -- plus the way you can toss in something that another writer might make too incongruous (Thalin's mid-battle memory of his youth, completely realistic and very fitting), and the intensity of your writing are what stand out for me. I love that sense of "you are there," and it's something you do well.

This is good writing, and fun stuff -- thanks for suggesting I check it out.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 5, 2004)

Cheers haiiro, i really appreciate the comments.

And yeah, there is a lot to read through - and forgive me for the stagger from present tense to past tense in the middle of it all. Hope you like the beginning up until now. Let me know what you think.

I've been planning to go back through the old present tense posts and update them to the past (update them to the past?!), so once 4 of 4 of Another Brick in the Wall is up and running, then edits will start to happen. I've got a chapter waiting in the sidelines, so updates should be as normal.

Righto. Gotta get back to milking the grells.

Spider.


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## haiiro (Sep 5, 2004)

Spider_Jerusalem said:
			
		

> And yeah, there is a lot to read through - and forgive me for the stagger from present tense to past tense in the middle of it all. Hope you like the beginning up until now. Let me know what you think.




I actually made the same decision with my SH/campaign journal. After writing a ton of material, I realized that Piratecat was right: SHs work better in the past tense. Converting all of it was a pain in the butt, but it was worth it.

I started reading "Ice" at the beginning last night, and thus far I quite like it. I'll give you some more feedback once I've caught up completely.


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## freedoms_edge (Sep 6, 2004)

I quite liked my speech....

You guys always rag on me.

(Torious kicks his helm suckily)


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## Chilly-wizard (Sep 9, 2004)

What?!!!??

Don't keep us waiting here Spider! This is one of Thalin's finest fights, the world deserves to hear the tale.

To be honest I think every player dreams of the first time his character sieges a castle, but this time we went totally overboard, no holds barred. We let everything loose on the poor gaurds. I love the image of Torious charging down the mountain with those barbarians whilst Milo and I slowly whittled down the guards. Personal classic. 

And yes Edge, we do rag on you big time. For the record.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 10, 2004)

Strahd! Uh... sorry, Thalin! Great to see you. 

Nice to have the team on here now. Yes, we have completed the Magic Circle! Or is that Circle of Madness?

Yeah, you guys nuked the guards. Dammnit. By the way, this last part is another whopper.

anyway:
Part 4 of 4


Torious roared again, his voice cracking with bursts of celestial fury. Drawing _Freedom’s Edge_ from the chest of a flailing guard, he whirled and pitched a second into the courtyard. The Ulutians pressed forwards, their frenzy of revenge having left a spattered trail along the wall. Two of the barbarians had fallen to the crossbowmen of Robar, a further three had died in the assault. Led by Torious’ beacon of scarlight, they plunged into the last ragged line of guards. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin slid to his right, and guided the flaming blade to the ground. The illusion was cheap, and Thalin had soon worked out where the real mage was. The border-mage was clothed for the cold, his chubby face a snarl of concentration as Thalin slid _Shard_ into his shoulder, dashing another spell from his mind.

The duelling mages crashed swords together again. Slivers of ice and droplets of fire cascaded around them, baring the courtyard in a bleeding pulse of light. They weaved between the statues of the frozen crossbowmen, waiting for a moment to strike. Thalin altered his grip, then aimed low. His sword crackled across his opponent’s thigh. As he darted away, Thalin felt a molten pain rip through his shoulder.

The two mages disengaged for a moment, their blades trailing sparks of energy as they circled each other.
“You must be the boy from the Glacier,” crowed the border-mage as his free hand crafted another attack, “Such a pity to come so far to die in a place like this!”
“Boy from the glacier?” spat Thalin as he prepared to counter “well yes, but then you must be the pig from the wall.” 
“Petty child!” laughed the mage, his eyes narrowing to vicious beads, “then let this pig be your slayer!”

The border-mage shot both hands forwards with a grunt. Thalin whipped his free arm from behind him, sending discs of ice hissing into the gut of his opponent. The border-mage fell back with a gasp. As he toppled, a white-hot spark flew from his outstretched hands and landed just behind Thalin. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious ducked instinctively as the blast shook the wall. Ice and mud rained around him. A guards’ sword found his side in the confusion and Torious staggered back, quickly healing the seeping wound. The Ulutian leader pounced past, bludgeoning the guards head into a pulp with a howl. Torious stepped back from the melee and took in his position. Only two guards left on the wall. The explosion came from the courtyard. His aasimar eyes couldn’t pierce the cloud of ice and dust that bulged into the air. 

On the far side of the gate, Torious could see the hunched form of Milo. The halfling was crouched over a dead guard. _Probably checking for money. Dammnit Milo, we need you right now_. Torious felt the flesh knit together in his side as Tyr blessed him another wave of strength. As his muscles flaring with the might of Tyr, Torious didn’t feel the first crossbow bolt puncture through his waist. He felt the second and third. 

More crossbowmen had appeared on the far side of the wall. Torious could only make out three through the fog of the explosion. _There are always more_. One was advancing on Milo, the others were firing into the throng of Torious’ melee. The aasimar snapped the bolts from his waist with a grunt and moved to intercept the first guard. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Thalin spat ice from his mouth and tasted hot blood. His skin was alive with a tearing pain. Through the haze of the rubble-strewn courtyard, the border-mage stalked forwards. Thalin’s hands clutched the cobblestones. Trying to push himself to his feet, Thalin collapsed back as his legs buckled and pain tore through him.

As the border-mage looked down with a satisfied smirk, he outstretched a hand and began to summon a last attack, “I told you. You never stood a chance you fool!” gloated the mage, “ Robar wanted to kill you himself, but it looks like I’ll have the pleasure”.

Thalin lolled his head to the side and coughed a laugh. The mage only had time to glance up as Dariel dove through the fog with a predatory shriek, and plunged his talons into the mage’s face. With a gasped incantation, Thalin cast his final attack through his familiar. With a violent hiss, the border-mages’ head shattered into a fine mist of blood and ice.

The mage stood erect for a moment, his body trembling before collapsing in a heap. Dariel was lost momentarily in the fog, then came swooping back. He skittered to land next to Thalin, his feathers burnt and ugly. A pained squawk escaped his beak. Thalin pulled his familiar close, his fingers teasing at the crusted feathers. As one, Dariel and Thalin slipped into unconsciousness. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious vaulted another body and cleaved _Freedom’s Edge_ through the backtracking crossbowman. His voice lost in a continuous whispered prayer, Torious toppled two more guards with cold precision. His scarlight cast brilliant shadows across the border-fort, then died in an instant.

Milo was crouched at Torious’ feet, his back to the aasimar.
“Milo! What are you doing?!?” cried Torious as he miraculously deflected a crossbow bolt with the hilt of _Freedom’s Edge_.

Milo did not answer. Torious saw then that Milo’s arms were coated crimson up to the elbow. The halfling bent forwards again and Torious felt sick as he watched Milo immerse his head into the hollowed chest space of a guard. 
“MILO! By the gods!” roared Torious.

The halfling slowly moved his head to look at Torious. His pupils were pinpricks in pools of white. His head was slick with blood. Torious felt two more bolts scatter off of his backplate.

Torious saw Milo’s hand clutched _Vampire_. Its hilt was a vicious web of teeth, and the blade was bulging and misshapen. Torious crouched down. Milo looked up with no recognition and Torious knew he was lost. Milo lulled his head for a moment then shot forwards and clamped onto Torious’s arm with his mouth. His teeth grated against the cold steel. The aasimar tried to pull away, but Milo’s grip was like a vice. Torious felt the Ulutians rush past him on their way to the remaining guards. 

Milo’s eyes stared straight through Torious as he chewed against the metal.
“You have been tempted by this foul creature, dressed as a blade” began Torious, his body tuning to the restorative energies of Tyr “and you have paid the price, for you are now nothing more than an animal”.

Torious channelled the flux of power that flowed through him. The sounds of battle dimmed to a murmur. 
“Return now Milo, for there is”, Torious began to stumble for words, “uhh… much to be done yet, and…well… lots of justice to be dealt.” He paused for a moment. “Now I banish thee, foul curse, to the depths of hell!”

Milo blinked, and his pupils filled back to normal. Torious looked down at the halfling with a stare of admonishment. Milo meekly relaxed his jaw and sat back cross-legged. He coughed into a fist, then slicked his hair away from his face. Milo shook his arm about until the teeth of _Vampire_ had slid out and the gorged blade clattered to the ground. 

Torious shook his head at the wayward halfling, “now that I have saved you, what do you say?”
Milo looked at the devastation about him. “Who’s winning?”

Torious wondered that himself and looked across to where the barbarians were. Having successfully waded into the clutch of guards, the battle was almost won. But not quite. Pulling the bloody halfling to his feet, Torious now saw the courtyard was almost clear of the cloud of dust. He could make out the collapsed body of Thalin leant against one wall. Milo peered down with awe, trying to piece together the last few minutes of action.

Idly, and with one eye on the courtyard, Milo fired his crossbow at the last of the guards. The bolt lodged in his back, and spiralling his arms like a windmill, the guard fell into the courtyard with a thump. 

The two remaining barbarians hollered in victory and shook their weapons above their heads. Torious looked about at the heaps of dead bodies, he realised not all of the guards wore the emblem of Robar. _Is this justice?_

Milo dangled off the edge of the battlement then dropped into the courtyard. Torious took the stairs. Jogging over to Thalin, Torious made sure the mage was alive. He was, though his face was a rash of blistered skin and his beard was burnt to a cinder.

Above the courtyard, the barbarians began to loot the bodies of the wall guards.

Torious felt the ebb of another healing spell sink into Thalin. A faint sound, something like a buckle being undone, caught the aasimar’s attention. The final guard had dragged his way to the dead body of the border-mage. With wild eyes staring at Torious, he had opened the mages cloak and snatched a coin from the pocket. Torious felt disgraced a half dead man would ransack his own captain!

But the crossbowman slung his arm to the ground and sent the coin spiralling into the centre of the courtyard. With a final gasp of air, the guard died. Milo glanced over and joined Torious as they together watched the coin spin to a stop. The coin glowed red and ran into the matrix of cobblestones. The patches of ice and slush in the courtyard began to melt.

Milo locked another bolt into his crossbow and crouched ready in the shadows. Torious shook Thalin awake. The mage’s eyes snapped open. His skin had healed a little from Torious’ powers. His beard was still gone.

Thalin immediately felt the pulse of magic. “Summoning coin. Dammnit Torious. I leave you for a minute and look what happens.” Torious nodded like a child then helped the mage to his feet.

The cobblestones peeled away like an orange as something forced a doorway into existence. Thalin was nearly drained of spells. Torious was all out, the last of his power having pumped Thalin to consciousness. Milo felt sick and was covered in someone else’s blood.

A rumbling hiss of sulphur and a wave of heat burst into the courtyard. A molten hole of fire bubbled where there had been ground. A red lance tipped with fire shot forwards, followed by a huge warhorse with a rider in red platemail. The rider’s helmet was down, though through his visor glared two burning eyes. Wicked barbs and hooks covered the rider’s armour. The horse was a monster, its features demonic.

“Emberguard!” shouted Torious. He had learned of these fell creatures on his travels. They were the servants of the demonlords and cavalry of Kossuth’s armies. Horse and rider were one, their minds linked by infernal magic.

On the walls, the barbarians turned and ran with their loot. Their revenge complete, they had no deal to risk their lives further.

The Emberguard pulled itself from the ground. It’s bodies glistened with sweat and fire. Wheeling once to gauge its surroundings, the Emberguard reared up to face Torious. Torious had moved fast and leapt to the attack. Torious closed his eyes and prayed to Tyr. _Freedom’s Edge_ hewed clean through the Rider’s leg. With a heavy thud, the armour-plated limb fell to the ground. Torious went to retreat. His chest exploded in fire as the Emberguard struck back. Torious cried out in pain. The horse thrashed sideways and Torious felt his thigh almost snap under a hoof as he was forced back.

Milo released his bolt as the Emberguard span with Torious. The bolt, infused with the luck of Tymora, sped true and slotted neatly between the neck plates of the Emberguard. The bolt punched through the Emberguard’s armour, but the bolt burnt to a crisp a moment later. _Not much use_ thought Milo. 

Thalin leapt to his feet, leaving Dariel cowering in the corner. A barrage of ice shards thundered into the Emberguard. Thalin felt his heart sink as two of the shards whirred away from the demon and spun into the sky. 

Torious dodged around the gaping pool of fire, but neglected to see the Emberguard’s next attack. With a crush of bones, Torious was caught by both of the Emberguard’s hooves. Spilling onto his back, Torious narrowly avoided another sword strike to this chest. 

Milo considered for a moment using the magic bolts he had found in the mines, but decided against it. He could always sell them later. Milo didn’t notice the clouds above momentarily shudder with the possibility of thunder as his thoughts contemplated _Talo’s Laughter_. 

Putting the bolts out of his mind, Milo sprung forwards, his crossbow clattering to the floor as he unsheathed _Sliverspike_. He wished it was _Vampire_. The Emberguard turned in time to receive the sprawled form of Milo crashing into his breastplate. Milo felt the air in his lungs rush with heat and the blood on his body flake away. Keenly finding the chink in the armour from his crossbow bolt, Milo stabbed the thin length of Sliverspike into the throat of the Emberguard.

Thalin watched as Torious and Milo swarmed around the hulking demon. Suddenly he remembered what his father had taught him of summonings. Thalin reached his mind out and dissipated the magic in the courtyard.

With a popping of everyone’s ears, a wave of anti-magic rippled over the melee. Thalin felt the Emberguard try to break through his dispel, but somehow failed. With a final thrust of his longsword into the clambering form of Milo (who was now clung to the Emberguard’s back), the Emberguard backed quickly into the closing portal. Milo realised what was happening and leapt clear. The Emberguard spat a curse in an infernal language as its body stepped back from whence it came.

Then the Emberguard was gone. The courtyard was silent. Thalin noticed a light snow had started.

 Torious propped himself up with _Freedom’s Edge_ as he began to sway from loss of blood. His chestplate was twisted and crusted black. Blood flowed freely from beneath his thigh armour. Milo held his side where the Emberguard has left his departing blow, though his wound had already been burnt shut. Thalin looked at the mangled cobblestones from where the Emberguard has arisen, then pushed the courtyard gates open with a grunt and scream of its hinges.

Vaerana, Mikka, Errilinth and the villagers were traipsing towards them already. The tiefling hurried over, Vaerana just behind.
Mikka shouted his questions “Thalin thank the gods you’re alive! Has the battle been won? Why have you shaved? You look terrible!”

Thalin motioned to the villagers to stay back. Vaerana dashed inside as Torious gave up and crumpled to the floor. Milo waved at Mikka. Mikka wondered why his friend was coated in blood.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hours passed. Bodies were looted and cleared. Rooms were searched and villagers were kept warm with a bonfire. Mikka took advantage of the wall’s parlour and crafted a small feast (aided a little by his magical servants). Everyone agreed the food was excellent. Torious eventually admitted it certainly filled him up. Milo was feeling a little queasy and for the first time in his life declined to join in the revelries.

The night went uneventfully and with everyone rested, healed and full, the adventurers continued their passage into the valley.



To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 11: Out of the Frying Pan…*

Our heroes have made it to the valley floor alive. The furious Robar has doubled his patrols and now everyone wants the illustrious heroes dead or alive. As they trek to the town of Illinvur, and amid the plunder of an Umberhulk’s lair, suspicions about the two women in red reach boiling point.


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## Broccli_Head (Sep 10, 2004)

Nice Imagery, especially the summoning of the Emberguard....

Tough battle. It seems that all the PCs were so near to death. What hitpoints less than 10?


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## freedoms_edge (Sep 10, 2004)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> Tough battle. It seems that all the PCs were so near to death. What hitpoints less than 10?




Yeah. If I remember rightly i had only managed to get Thalin back up to 3 hit points, and after duelling with the emberguard Milo must have only been on 5 or 6 tops whilst i was on 0. Hence the collapse at the end. It was close.


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 11, 2004)

Yeah, it was a close one, but the Emberguard was pretty wounded (ish - damage reduction 20/+1 helped a little). Torious' de-limbing, and a _Sliverspike_ in the neck did what they should. 

Anyway, the Emberguard would have their revenge(s). 
*I love them so much!* They're like children to me. Actually, when you get to know them, the whole race have a really great sense of humour.

Spider - shining up his poison spurs for the Essembra Tourney.


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## haiiro (Sep 16, 2004)

I just wanted to drop in and let you know that I'm still reading through the older posts, and still very much enjoying them. I can't wait until I'm actually caught up!


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 19, 2004)

*Ice, Luck and Honour*


*Chapter 11: Out of the Frying Pan…*
Part 1 of 2

Middle/Late Winter, Realms Date 1372



Milo clinked the two coins together that he had found in the border-mages pocket, his eyes bulging with wonder.
“So, there’s an Ambergod inside this?” asked Milo quizzically, turning the coins over in his hands.
Thalin shook his head as he walked, “No, not quite. And it’s Emberguard. That coin is just a spell, but something, somewhere is attached to it. Watch”

Thalin stopped walking and Milo put the two coins into his hand. Thalin inspected them, both coins were crafted with the same marks. On one side bore three tufts of pelt, and on the reverse a triangle of halberds. The ice mage did a minor incantation and three thin silver lines of magic hazed into existence and traced southwards. The line stretched beyond Milo’s eyesight, and was lost among the skee and erratic boulders through which they now walked.

“There are three lines because, as the coins faces show, there are three creatures attached. And these three use the halberd.” Lectured Thalin, his knowledge of Summoning Coins almost exhausted.
“But _what are they?_” crowed Milo, his face shaking at the expectation.
“I don’t know. We’ll find out. If we use one.”
“Now?”
“No”
“Why not?”
“Because Milo, the summoned creatures will want to fight”
“Maybe they won’t”
“Yes they will. That’s the way the spell works”
“Can’t we make friends?”
“No. If you use them now then _you_ can fight them,” admonished Thalin.
Milo weighed up the options, then took the coins back and slipped them into his pocket, where Isplit carefully slotted them back into their respective pockets-within-pockets.

The heroes had made good time along the valley floor and their destination was perhaps only six hours walk. Thalin had entertained Milo’s constant questions, ranging from which of the villagers he would like to fight, all the way to trying ascertain a more concrete mental map of Ysgard (which he had read about somewhere, and would like to see for himself one day). Torious, meanwhile, had spent a great deal of his time telling Vaerana of his adventurous exploits, and was in the depths of relaying his battle with the sword spider when he noticed a large hole in the ground off to the left of the trail.

Torious called from up ahead, “Thalin! Take a look at this.”
Thalin heard and made a move to catch his companion up, Milo galloping alongside. Vaerana called a halt to the column of villagers and told them to rest a while. Pots and pans quickly appeared and the remainder of the rations were swiftly unwrapped. Errilinth and Vaerana helped the villagers tend to any wounds (there were a few cases of frostbite) as the three companions picked their way towards the hole.

The hole turned out to be a crater, a ragged hole sat in the bottom leading into darkness. _Something had fallen from the sky_. Milo picked up a small stone and skimmed it into the hole with an expert shot. The stone disappeared and a clatter could be heard.

Thalin sat on a nearby rock, “go check it out Milo.”
Milo didn’t need to be asked twice and with a pompous grin Milo summoned an unseen servant into being. He waved with childish glee at his companions as he floated down into the hole.

Milo cast a light spell on his right thumb, and then inspected his surroundings. He was hovering in a rough-hewn chamber, the walls looking like they had been chopped at by large picks. Below him, another puncture in the earth led downwards. _Something had fallen hard and fast!_ mused Milo, his curiosity floating him towards the next hole. Tentatively, he drew _Sliverspike_. Four years ago, an Ankheg had eaten his uncle. Milo certainly wasn’t going to meet the same end.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Vaerana Hawklyn. Vaerana Hawklyn. Vaerana Hawklyn,” mimed Thalin, “is that all that’s on your mind?”
“Watch your words mage,” said Torious, “I was just informing you of what our companion has said”
“Our _companion_? Have you taken leave of your senses?” started Thalin
“No, I haven’t” answered Torious, “I have prayed to Tyr concerning this matter”
“Oh bloody great,” said Thalin as he folded his arms, Dariel looked up in distaste from the rock-sparrow he was gutting, “well at least we have Tyr’s word on this one.”
Torious turned menacingly, “don’t you dare question my father’s judgement!”
Thalin smiled back as Torious’ glare, “careful whom you place your trust in Torious, even orcs hear voices now and again.”
“What in Hades do you mean by that?”
“As much as you wish to learn from it,” answered Thalin, “just remember that we can’t trust a woman in red. It doesn’t help that we have two.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“Well, that’s just it Borunn,” for that was his silent companions chosen name, “Maybe I am over-thinking things. The chicken industry of Amn would be a tough nut to crack, but that’s not to say it can’t be”
Borunn was, as ever, silent.
“Have you ever been to Amn? No, I suppose not,” wondered Milo as Borunn set him down on the third chambers floor, “its just I need an experienced viewpoint. Anyway, thank you for your help, see you soon.”
Borunn drifted out of the Prime material. Milo pointed his thumb all around. He was in a low-ceilinged (even for him) chamber that had a slow river running to his left. By his feet, in a small but deep crater, was a set of gauntlets. They glistened beautifully in Milo’s thumb-light. Stepping softly over, he crouched next to them. Concentrating, he began to recite a simple spell that Thalin had taught him.

- - - - - - - - - -

“…and you think this Errilinth is any more trustworthy?” cried Torious, now pacing up and down in front of Thalin.
“No, I’m not saying that,” said Thalin in exasperation, “I’m saying both of the women are as much of a threat as each other. Each has something a little strange about them”
“And what is strange about miss Hawklyn?” asked Torious defensively.
Thalin rolled his eyes, “look, I’m sure Tyr hasn’t taught you about the devils that are women, but my father certainly did. Don’t be waylaid by her charms Torious.”
“I haven’t been waylaid Thalin, her energies flow with a righteous spirit,” countered Torious, quite sure of his spells truthfulness.
“It’s just I think…” Thalin changed tack, “It’s just for justice. That’s all. We can’t rule anyone out or assume anything. Right?”
“Tyr says…” began Torious, but he was interrupted as the disembodied voice of Milo emanated from Dariel’s sparrow carcass.
“Hello. Hello, Torious Mangrane and Thalin Vorspen,” spoke Milo haltingly, “Can they hear this? Well, if you can then I’ve found what caused the craters – a pair of gauntlets, though they don’t seem to actually weigh anything. Well, I guess that’s it. Cheerio for now.”

The voice of Milo subsided and Dariel skulked away from the talking carcass with a squawk.
“Well, that’s that,” Thalin said as he groaned to a stand, “we should start everyone moving soon”
“Help Milo up then,” replied Torious gruffly, breaking a sullen silence.
Thalin frowned at Torious then went to throw a rope to Milo. _No use in wasting spells_ thought Thalin. He hadn’t travelled two steps into the crater when with a crash of skee, Thalin disappeared into a well-placed deadfall. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo strapped the gauntlets into his pack (resisting the severe instinct to just put them on), then gazed upwards through the ragged holes of light above. For a sudden moment, Milo felt a little wave of sickness. He coughed and swallowed. Looking up, Milo saw that the room had become molten and watery. The walls swam with strange lights and looking down at his hands, they were back to front. The obvious way out was the iron-shod gate leading to his mother’s orchard. Milo had a moment to contemplate that his mother certainly didn’t own an orchard, before realising his mistake and (of course) wandered up to the door of Robar’s cottage with a shake of his head at his own stupidity.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious sprinted back and slid up to the pitfall that Thalin had collapsed into. The mage lay at the bottom with a grimace on his face. He was covered in skee but not at all hurt. Torious unwrapped his rope from his bag. Thalin scrambled to his feet and unlatched Erifeci from his pack with a shout “Stay back!”

Torious watched in stunned surprise as the dark purple carapace of a huge insect lunged at Thalin from the shadows, clamping two wicked looking mandibles on his leg. Thalin screamed out in pain as a claw cleaved across his chest. Flaps of skin hung from his shirt. Torious cast the rope aside and leapt forwards onto the beasts back with a battle cry.

- - - - - - - - - -

The two knights of Robar rounded the corner and the first flicked up his visor as he saw the crowd of people huddled next to the road.
“What is this?” exclaimed the knight, pointing his companion’s gaze to the villagers.
With a squeeze of their legs, the knights galloped towards the crowd.

- - - - - - - - - -

Vaerana heard the scream and darted towards the crater, her longsword unslung. 

- - - - - - - - - -

Mikka snapped to attention as Vaerana suddenly moved. Watching in concern, his thoughts were drawn to the tug of a child’s hand on his shirt.
“Yes little one?”
The village girl pointed in distress at the two approaching knights, their red plate protruding like a scar among the stones. Mikka looked to warn the villagers, but found his eyes locked with Errilinth’s who shook her head, then dragged herself to her feet. Mikka nodded in recognition. He motioned for everyone to keep quiet then stood himself, though making sure his handbow was ready to be drawn...


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## Spider_Jerusalem (Sep 19, 2004)

Part 2 of 2

Torious plunged Freedom’s Edge into the beast’s back as Vaerana arrived. 
“Umberhulk!” she cried as she spotted the bulk of the creature.
Thalin roared, “Fire!” and struck Erifeci between the Umberhulk’s eyes. A red blast of light illuminated the tunnel for a brief moment, and as the light died the Umberhulk emitted a deep clicking noise then violently withdrew. Thalin sighed with relief as the Umberhulk retreated, but screamed in agony as its mandibles latched onto his lower leg and ripped it from his body.

Torious crushed hard into the ceiling of the tunnel as the Umberhulk retreated. He let go and clattered to the floor. The Umberhulk moved swiftly, almost ape like, and disappeared into the shadows of a tunnel.

Hearing the panicked cries of Thalin, Torious picked the mage’s leg up were it had fallen and walked back.
“Here’s your leg.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo laughed politely as Drizzt told yet another two-handed joke. The other guests guffawed with mirth – Kelemvor in particular seemed to love the drow’s sense of humour and looked to be nearly sick with laughter. Milo felt he should retire for the night and stepped out of the doorway into the brisk night of Carceri. Then it was Carceri no more and he found himself in a tunnel, his thumb a beacon of light. The faint sounds of someone shouting could be heard. _What in Baldur’s Gate just happened?_ With a sense of intense discomfort, Milo headed for the crater hole and thinking better of it, used a jump spell to vault himself upwards.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mikka clapped once and his sleeves unfurled in a carnival of trinkets.
“as you can see gentle sirs, I am a trader of the finest wares,” soothed Mikka, his voice treacle in the knights ears, “and such luck to find me at a time like this! Perhaps you are a blessed of Tymora? Well, if not, you can be! With this beautiful and honest-to-Tyr blessed by the Lady of Luck herself. Woven on the elven isles and stretched on a black dragon’s hide, these lucky scarves could give you that extra ounce of luck needed to make that promotion. Or perhaps there is a special lady? If so, let me inform you of this particular mark on the seam of the cloth…”
The knights, still mounted though fully entranced by Mikka, did not see Errilinth staring steely into the eyes of the horses. The animals lapsed into a serene state, and she was sure they would not move for anything less than an earthquake.

The knights applauded as Mikka bowed low, the scarves lain on his outstretched hands. 
“Well shown dwarf. Well shown,” cried one of the knights, looking to his companion for agreement.
Mikka withdrew the scarves and still smiling drew his handbow, loaded with a leaf-green bolt, “I’m not a dwarf”. He fired and the bolt multiplied in the air. The knights ceased their applause as each took a dozen bolts to the chest. The horses held still as their riders slipped sideways and crashed to the ground.

- - - - - - - - - -

Milo reached the apex of his jump. Face to face with the Umberhulk for a fleeting second, he only had a moment to dart _Sliverspike_ into a bulbous eye before descending again. He caught onto the ledge of the hole and looked upwards. The Umberhulk was nowhere to be seen.

- - - - - - - - - -

Torious crossed his arms as Thalin wiped the sweat from his head and tested his reattached leg.
“Thank you Torious,” said Thalin.
“Tyr moves in mysterious ways,” answered Torious, somewhat perplexingly.
Vaerana frowned, and then helped Thalin to his feet. Thalin looked at her for a moment then forced a smile.

Milo jogged back to the party after a number of minutes (he had to twice return to that accursed social in the cottage) and asked what had happened. The halfling held a summoning coin in each hand, ready to throw. He was distraught he had missed Thalin’s limb loss and subsequent healing. 

With a small effort, the heroes pulled themselves out of the pitfall and sat well clear of the Umberhulk’s lair. After a moment, Mikka appeared and informed the party of the two dead knights. Torious thanked Mikka for dealing with the situation, though was surprised it had not gone awry as usual. Thalin promptly took the gauntlets from Milo and magically identified them. As he held them, the gauntlets were feather-light. His magical analysis ominously told him that they would soon gain in what they lacked. However, they could enable the user to fly, so Thalin considered them an asset, but an asset not suitable for Milo’s backpack. 

A decision was made to throw the dead knights into the pit of the Umberhulk, since each of the heroes now harboured a grudging admiration for the beast. Milo assured everyone that if it had been an Ankheg it would have been a massacre.

- - - - - - - - - -

In a jovial mood, the heroes approached the walls of Illinvur. The villagers were recounting their fortune of having the heroes save them, and being offered passage through the pass. Thalin tried to talk to Errilinth, but the aged woman was for the first time sullen and distant, only confirming that she “had to accept what would happen now”. Thalin didn’t quite understand, though accepted the strange offer of a non-magical ring with the initial of “M” emblazoned on it. Errilinth said she no longer had any need for it, and told Thalin it was his to keep.

Vaerana too had adopted a sullen mood. Torious attempted to bolster her spirits, even offering to bless her, but he was rejected each and every time.
“What’s the matter?” Torious pressed, his eyes glancing up at the gates of the town.
Vaerana paused for a moment, then looked up at Torious with eyes charged with regret, “I’m so sorry Torious, I didn’t mean for this to happen at all. Just remember that.”

Torious halted his walk, perplexed at Vaerana’s words. The gates opened as they approached and Torious pushed to the front alongside Milo and Thalin, ready for a heroes welcome. The heavy doors parted to reveal a line of knights, dressed in red plate.

Torious started, his hand reflexing to _Freedom’s Edge_. The boulders that formed the road to the gates suddenly sprouted a shadowy wall of crossbowmen, their weapons trained on the crowd of villagers.
“What is this?” cried Torious as he whirled around to see every escape cut off.

The knights parted and Robar treaded forwards on his red stallion. Behind him stood the towering warrior of The Bear, and the thin, cloaked figure of a man that, amid the confusion, Milo suddenly recognised as the man from his dream – the one who had caught the falling comet. 

The heroes were trapped and heavily outnumbered. Escape plans were hurriedly exchanged, though nothing covered both themselves and the villagers. With furious hesitation, the heroes threw their weapons down. Robar gave a wide, satisfied smile at the adventurers, and then offered out his hand. Torious looked dumbfounded as Vaerana pushed past and in a complete silence, walked the distance to the side of Robar.

Robar leant down and Vaerana meekly kissed his cheek, though her eyes averted the scar-lit gaze of Torious. With a bellowing order from The Bear, the crossbowmen herded the heroes and their wards into the prisons of Illinvur…


To be continued in…

*Ice, Luck and Honour*
*Chapter 12: … And Into The Fire*

The murderous Robar has captured our intrepid heroes! As the heroes come to terms with the treacherous Vaerana, the violence of The Bear and the wicked torture of Robar, Thalin, Milo and Torious’ plans of escape are suddenly given a glorious opportunity.


*WAIT! stop stop stop. please don't reply to this thread - A new, reborn version of this story hour is at (here).The reason for the halt to this thread is the god-awful delays in updates; two years is pushing the best of us. Secondly, the tense jumped about when it shouldn't have. Thirdly, well thirdly, i've used every trick up my chaotic-evil sleeve to put people off, so the new link is an attempt at a neutral-good relaunch. Hope that makes sense.

Thanks to everyone who have hung onto this thread up until this point, I really appreciate it. Drop into the new thread and let me know what you think.

Yours, 
Spider Jerusalem*


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