# Northern Tales (Kalamar)



## Wicht (Oct 13, 2003)

*Chill Winds – part 1*

The chill autumn winds had already begun to blow across the flat Drhokker plains.  Summer was truly gone and with it the hot summer sun.  The day had been warm enough but with the onset of evening it was clear that the night winds would blow cold.

Dhrokker was a land of horsemen and tall, solidly built Fhokki.  But the group that traveled northwards through the steppes on this day were of a different breed.  Only one of them was human for one thing and he was of neither Fhokki or Dejy stock.  His lineage, if one was to make a guess was Kalamarian, though his hair was blonde not red.  A short ways ahead of him walked an elf, slim and dark haired.  Behind the human tramped a surly looking dwarf with a shaggy mane of hair and a shaggy brown beard.  Another dwarf, slightly better groomed than the first walked a short ways behind him and next to him, barefoot and cheerful walked a slim halfling.

All five of these travelers traveled armed and armored.  The elf carried a long bow, the dwarf and the halfling in the rear each carried bows as well, though the dwarf had a powerful looking war-ax and a shield as well.  The shaggy dwarf was armed with a huge double bladed ax and a crossbow hung easy on his hips.  The human carried a sword at his side, a shield was strapped to his back and the hilt of a smaller blade could be seen nestled into his tall boots.  

They had been marching north for about two weeks to meet a mutual friend and the nights had been getting gradually colder.  This particular night promised to be the coldest yet.  

For the last hour of traveling, the landscape had become slightly less flat and small hills added variety to the steppes.  There were few trees and a great amount of grass.  They had seen both buffalo and deer during the day, though at a distance.  Now as the sky began to darken and the day appeared almost at an end they found themselves in a small valley between two gentle hills, the tops of which were perhaps a mile in distance from one another.  To their right, atop the first hill they perceived a great stone monolith, a great rock perhaps, save its sides, seemed square in the light and at its top it formed a perfect angle so that it was more like some tower made by man.  

Atop the other hill, to the west, the crumbling ruins of stone houses were clearly silhouetted in the twilight.  These testimonies of prior lives and desolate hopes seemed to offer both shelter and warning at the same time.  

“What do you think,” said the Elf.  It was obvious that they must make camp soon.  There would be only about another hour of daylight.  And while moving would keep them warm enough, a fire would do much better.

The shaggy dwarf surveyed the hill to the left and the hill to the right.

“I think we should likely camp up in those ruins, but maybe one of us should check out that big stone up there as well.”  The dwarf spoke with a harsh and rugged voice and his use of the merchant tongue showed just a trace of an accent.  His name was Durunak Gramdal and during the two weeks spent in the company of the other four he had become a sort of unofficial leader.  

“I can check out the stone,” said the elf.

“I will go with you,” volunteered the human.  His name was Minlion and of the five, he felt himself to be the most out of place.

“That’s fine,” said Durunak in his deep voice, “Me ‘n my cousin will head up and find a place suitable for the night.  Get a fire going as well.”

“Don’t forget about me,” chimed in the halfling, “I can help gather wood and stuff.”

Durunak answered with a huff that was either derision or agreement but which message he intended to send was not easily discernable.  The elf and Minlion began their trek up towards the monolithic stone and the other three began walking up towards the west.

There was little that could be learned upon reaching the stone.  The ground around the stone was dead and barren of life.  No grass grew nearer than five feet to the stone and beyond that mark it was another ten feet before the grass grew to any height.  The air around the stone was noticeably colder than the air had been in the valley, though whether that was some arcane property of the stone or merely the effect of a greater elevation and a cooler wind was not discernable.  But the stone itself was smooth and unmarked and of its purpose neither elf nor man could make anything.  Having thus satisfied curiosity, they turned and began the mile walk to the other hill upon which their companions had already began looking for a place to rest.

The ruins had clearly been a village of some sort, though how long it had been deserted was hard to say.  No single structure had more than three walls standing and no roof was left on any of the buildings.  Any items of value had long since been removed.  Durunak quickly found a place to make camp that he felt was suitable, three stout walls encircling an expanse of floor that was relatively free from stones or large rocks.  Thus satisfied he and his cousin Zurmak began searching, aided by the small halfling, to gather wood.  There were few trees around the ruins but in several places there were bushes of sufficient size to provide fuel and the dried grass of the steppes provided excellent kindling.  It was Babaktar, “Bo” to his friends, who first found the footprints.  With a holler he alerted the two dwarves who quickly came to investigate.  

Durunak stooped upon the ground and examined them closely in the fading light.  

“Goblins,” he said after a bit, “Most likely that is.”

With patience he began trying to follow them.  As he surveyed the ground around the ruined stone walls, he saw greater and greater signs of small, unshod feet.  Finally, with some care he traced many of them to a point about fifty feet away from one of the larger ruined structures.   There, in the ground was a wide pit, evidently dug by hands deep, perhaps twenty feet deep, into the earth.  The smell rising from the pit was vile, like sewage.  

“An old toilet hole, perhaps,” guessed Durunak, “But the goblin tracks all come from here.  There is quiet a bit of traffic to and from this pit.”  Moving closer to the pit and peering down inside Durunak found what he was expecting to find.  Driven into the earth along the wall of the pit were wooden spikes, forming a crude but effective means of easily climbing into and out of the hole.  The smell from right up close to the pit was even more unbearable than it had been some feet from the pit.  Ignoring the smell and squinting down into the darkness Durunak could make out a small hole dug horizontally into the earth at the very bottom of the pit.  There was no doubt in his mind that goblins were dwelling in tunnels underneath the ground here.  

“Should we go down there?” asked Bo, standing besides Durunak and holding his nose while he looked down.

Durunak considered the smell and the wisdom of heading down into a goblin hole at night in the middle of nowhere.  He looked and measured the distance in his mind to where they had decided to make camp.  It was about three or four hundred yards away from the pit.

“No,” said Durunak, “I say leave them alone down there for the moment.  We can keep a guard up here to make sure they don’t bother us.”

Having thus decided, the three companions returned back to gathering their wood.


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## Wicht (Oct 13, 2003)

*Durunak Gramdal, Male Dwarf Bar1:* CR 1; HD 1d12+4; hp 16; AC 15; Init +2; +5 melee (1d12+4 Great Ax) or +4 ranged (1d8 crossbow); SA Rage; SV Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +1; AL CG; Str 17, Dex 15, Con 18, Int 14, Wis 13, Cha 11.
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +7, Intimidate +2, Craft (Blacksmithing) +8, Craft (Weaponsmithing) +8, Listen +2, Survival +3, Intuit Direction +3; Track

*Zurmak Gramdal, Male Dwarf Ftr1:* CR 1; HD 1d10+4; hp 14; AC 15, Init +2; +4 melee (1d10+2 Dwarven Ax) or +3 ranged (1d6 shortbow); SV Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +1; AL LG; Str 14, Dex 14, Con 19, Int 14, Wis 11, Cha 12.
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +6, Craft (Weaponsmithing) +8, Jump +6, Appraise +6; Weapon Focus (Dwarven Ax), Power Attack.

*Babaktar “Bo Sapran, male halfling Ftr1:* CR 1; HD 1d10+1; hp 11; AC 16; Init +3; +3 melee (1d4+1 dagger) or +6 ranged (1d6 shortbow); SV Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +1; AL CG; Str 12, Dex 17, Con 13, Int 14, Wis 11, Cha 10.
*Skills and Feats:* Climb +7, Handle Animal +4, Jump +7, Move Silently +9; Weapon Focus (shortbow), Point blank shot

*Minlion, Male Human Ftr 1:* CR 1; HD 1d10+2; hp 12; AC 18; Init +6; +3 melee (1d8 longsword); SV Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +1; AL CG; Str 15, Dex 15, Con 15, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 10.  
*Skills and Feats*Climb +6, Craft (Weaponsmith) +9, Jump +6, Ride +6, Handle Animal +4; Improved Initiative, Blind Fighting, Skill Focus (Weaponsmith).

*Hulmar Oakbow, Male Elf Ftr0/Rog0:* CR 1; HD 1d6+1; hp 7; AC 16; Init +8; +2 melee (1d8+2 longsword) or +5 ranged (1d8 longbow); SV Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +1; AL CG; Str 15, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 13, Cha 11.
_*Skills and Feats:*_ Climb +6, Hide in Shadows +8, Move Silently +8, Survival +5, Craft (Bowmaking) +7, Pick Locks +8, Spot +7, Jump +6, Balance +8, Tumble +8, Listen +7; Improved Initiative, Weapon Focus (longbow)


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## Darklone (Oct 13, 2003)

Woah, Wicht, how many groups do you have ?

Pretty fighter heavy campaign this one... Have the players some plans for multiclassing?


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## Wicht (Oct 13, 2003)

Darklone said:
			
		

> Pretty fighter heavy campaign this one... Have the players some plans for multiclassing?




Why yes, they do.  Durunak multiclasses at level 2 into a Barbarian/fighter and Zurmak goes for the Fighter/Ranger multiclass.  


The sixth player, not met in this tale, plays a cleric/ranger. 

It will be noticed perhaps that I let my players choose whichever classes they want without thought for 'Balance'.  If they are fighter heavy, it's their problem, not mine.


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## Darklone (Oct 13, 2003)

Wicht said:
			
		

> Why yes, they do.  Durunak multiclasses at level 2 into a Barbarian/fighter and Zurmak goes for the Fighter/Ranger multiclass.
> 
> The sixth player, not met in this tale, plays a cleric/ranger.
> 
> It will be noticed perhaps that I let my players choose whichever classes they want without thought for 'Balance'.  If they are fighter heavy, it's their problem, not mine.



I played my own share of fighter heavy groups... used properly, they can get along better than one would think if one's used to standard D&D groups (fighter, rogue, wizard, cleric).

I do think your guys know what they are doing and look forward to read more


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## Wicht (Oct 14, 2003)

*Chill Winds** – Part 2*
The fire blazed cheerfully as the cold winds blew through the ruined remains of the desolate stone village.  Despite the chill of the night, the small party was upbeat as they talked amongst themselves and made plans.  Neither the cold nor the threat of nearby goblins dampened their spirits and they laughed easily and traded stories as they had done each night of their journey.

They were heading north to meet another.  Or at least three of them were.  Leesarel, the cousin of Hulmar, the elf in the party, had sent word south to certain of her acquaintances that their was adventure and money to be made in the north and it was in answer to her summons that they now traveled.  Hulmar was driven by a desire to not only find adventure but to see his cousin, who had been away from her home for the last two decades.  Durunak, the shaggy dwarf sought freedom from the expectations of his clan.  Leesarel had been a friend in times past and her summons provided him the excuse he needed to leave, if even for just a while.  Minlion also had known Leesarel.  He had met her in Shyta-Zybaj while she had been training to be a priestess and he had been working with horses.  He had no family and few friends and one prospect seemed as good to him at the moment as another.  

Of the five, only Zurmak, the dwarf, and Bo, the halfling, did not know Leesarel.  That self-same clan which Durunak wanted to escape wanted to keep track of him and so had sent along the more responsible Zurmak to keep an eye on his cousin.  Bo was a close friend of Zurmak’s and had invited himself, eager for an opportunity to travel.  Thus there were five and thus they traveled north.  

Despite their different backgrounds they had gotten along easily enough from the start.  There was a certain amount of common interests amongst them for one thing.  Minlion, the only human, was more than a little conversant in the art of smithing and so had that in common with the dwarfs.  Bo was an archer and had that in common with the Elf.  In such a manner they found things to talk about during the night after long days of weary walking.  

And so it was tonight.  Hulmar worked quietly fletching arrows by the fire while Durunak and Minlion discussed the fine points of sword making.  Bo and Zurmak talked and joked together after the manner of old friends, which they were.  Behind them shadows danced with the flames and around their primitive shelter the wind whistled through the stones.  And all the while the air grew colder.  But around the fire it was warm and friendly and it little seemed as if anything could break the moment of comfort.

Elsewhere it was harvest time.  A time when the fruit was ripened and ready to be hauled into barns and stored through the long winter months.  But tonight in the steppes for one entity at least it was the time for planting.  

It was Durunak who heard the footsteps first.  A low shuffling gait, barely audible over the sound of the wind.  

“Hush up!” he barked in his deep gruff voice, “listen.”  

The others, surprised by his sudden intensity quieted and did as he told them.  They listened for a time to the whistling of the chill winds and struggled to hear something else.  Durunak strained as he tried once more to hear that which he had thought he had heard but it was Hulmar who was the first to plainly hear the steps again.  His sharp elvish ears caught the sound of a shuffling step.  The step was followed by a brief pause and then by two more awkward steps.  

“Footsteps,” said Hulmar as he pointed to the southwest.  That was were the sound was coming from.  In the darkness someone or something was slowly moving through the night towards the light of their fire.  Quietly but surely, each of them readied their favored weapon and waited. 

Soon the sounds were close enough that all could plainly hear the unmistakable sound of someone walking, albeit awkwardly, towards them.  Rising from the comfort of the fire they slowly walked in skirmish line formation towards the sound.  Except for Minlion, who’s eyes could make out little beyond the glow of the fire, they could see that walking slowly through the ruined buildings with a strange sort of jerking motion was a man.  That it was a man there seemed, from his size and general shape, to be little doubt.  But even aside from the strange movements of his body as he propelled himself towards them, there seemed something else odd.  

“Who goes there?” barked Durunak.

The man did not answer but instead moved slightly faster in their direction.  Now he was only about thirty feet away and they could clearly see that it appeared as if some sort of plant was growing around his head.  Indeed, much of his torso also seemed to be covered with some sort of plant growth.  And then as he shuffled forward another step it was clear that the plant was not just attached to his head, it was in fact, in one place, growing out of his skull like some strange hybrid of man and plant.  The sight was both revolting and alarming.

“I say we kill it,” said Durunak but Zurmak was already charging forward.  Bo and Hulmar both drew their bows though only Hulmar fired.  His shot flew wide to the left, as he tried to avoid shooting the charging dwarf, and thus he missed. 

“Oh well,” muttered Minlion and started running forward as well, his eyes straining to make out potential obstacles in his path.  Behind him Durunak followed, axe at the ready.  

Zurmak naturally reached the unnatural plant-man first but despite its jerky movements, the thing possessed both a sense of self preservation and enough quickness to dodge aside from the hasty blow.  Zurmak’s axe cleaved only empty air and then Minlion was there his sword descending down at the things head. It again dodged aside from the blow and then swinging a fist around at Minlion, it tried to catch him alongside his head.  But Minlion caught the blow not on his head but on his shield and though the punch seemed unnaturally strong, Minlion held firm.

Then Durunak was in the midst of the melee.  With a great two handed swing he cleaved at the thing.  It staggered back away from the blow but was a fraction of a second too slow.  The axe caught it in the chest albeit slightly.  Despite the fact that Durunak’s axe had failed to fully connect the creature staggered backwards.  Its foot caught a stone and tripping it fell flat onto its back.  Its head struck a stone as it fell upon the ground and with a sound like that of some dried gourd breaking the head of what had once been a man cracked open.  

Even Minlion saw what happened next.  Something like seeds seemed to roll out of the split skull and land upon the ground.  Compelled by a macabre curiosity, all of them, including the two archers who had rushed closer during the melee, pressed in a little nearer and bent to the ground to see what they could see.  To their astonishment it appeared as if the seeds, for such they must have been, were already beginning to grow roots.  After another few moments there could be no doubt.  Slowly but surely the seeds were growing and the roots, which were already half an inch long, were trying to find their way underground.

“I say we burn it,” said Hulmar with conviction.

The others agreed and Bo and Minlion ran back to the camp to fetch a piece of burning wood and some oil from the packs.

By the time they had returned the roots had entered the ground and small slender green stalks were beginning to shoot up.  With a growing sense of horror they poured oil on the new shoots and on the plant covered corpse and then set it alight.  The man caught fire easily and burned as if he was a dried husk.  The oil insured the seeds and shoots burned as well.  But only when they were satisfied that all of it was good and burned did they return, albeit with a sense of numbed shock, to their own fire.


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## Elder-Basilisk (Oct 14, 2003)

Excellent. I'll look forward to more of this story. BTW, what happened to the other story hour that you posted a few months ago. It was one of my favorites and I'm sorry to have lost track of it.


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## Wicht (Oct 14, 2003)

My "Servants of the Swift Sword" Campaign got disbanded due to too many scheduling conflicts hence the story hour died


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## Wicht (Oct 15, 2003)

*Chill Winds - Part 3*

	There was little in the way of cheer following the disquieting episode of the bizarre plant-man encounter.  The night was well and dark and it was generally agreed that it was time to get some rest so that their journey could resume at the first light of day.  The goblins were not forgotten, and the five companions prudently decided to keep a two man watch throughout the night.  After some discussion, they settled on a system by which each of them would take two watches, though not with the same person each time.  

	And so, as the chill winds continued to blow around them, they settled in to sleep.  Minlion and Hulmar drew the first watch.  They sat quietly near the fire, watching the flames lick the air.  Nothing stirred beyond the fire for some time.  The only sound was the constant wind.  

	But the peace did not last forever.  

“Listen,” said Hulmar suddenly, his eyes suddenly alert, “I thought I heard something.”

Minlion was instantly wide awake, his sword in his hand.  He listened intently and then he heard it too – footsteps moving quickly.  Only the footsteps were moving away from them.

They woke the others and then began to scan the area.  It did not take Durunak long to find and analyze the tracks.  

“Goblins, snooping around us.  They probably ran back to their holes, but they will be back I bet.”

“What can we do?” asked Minlion.

“We have to make sure they don’t come out,” said Hulmar.

“We could fill in the pit,” suggested Durunak brashly.

Further consideration convinced them however that of the two who stayed awake, one should stay where they could see the pit and notice anything trying to get out.  This seemed reasonable to everybody.  It was clear that of all of them Minlion was least suited to keeping watch in the dark and so Hulmar sat down upon a stone within sight of the smelly pit, bundled himself up and proceeded to watch it carefully.  The others returned to the fire.

Below the earth there was a dispute amongst the goblins.  A small, but vocal minority was in favor of a direct assault upon the encroachers.  Others were of a more defensive mind.  At an impasse, the group turned to their chief for direction.  

The goblins had known about the intruders upon their territory all evening.  The dwarfs (and the halfling) had not tried to be quiet whilst examining the pit and the guards posted at the bottom had heard every word.  It had been too early though to do anything and so the chief had advised them to be on their guard but continue their daily rest.  

Now however night had truly come and something had to be done.  The chief was a coward at heart and hoped mainly that the above-grounders would simply leave.  But he did not want to appear weak to his tribe.  Vargush in particular was eyeing him funny lately, as if trying to size him up against himself.  The scouts, having crept close to the camp to observe and then back to the warren unseen, had reported the exact number of intruders and the chief knew the goblins outnumbered their foes ten to one.  But he preferred better odds still.  Pondering he sent one of the younger lads up the pit to take a look out.

A few minutes later the lad returned, nonplussed that an elf, sitting near the pit had fired at him with an arrow.  

Over the next few hours the chief continued to send up a looker every ten minutes or so.  Most of the times the looker wasn’t seen.  The few times that they were, they had managed to duck fast enough to avoid being killed.  

The elf had been followed by a dwarf and then by the elf again.  It seemed they were keeping one person at a time on lookout.  Slowly but surely a plan began to form in the mind of the goblin chief.  A way to get rid of a problem one way or the other.  Fortunately for the goblins it seemed like the intruders had not thought of the possibility of the back door.  

“Get me Vargush,” croaked the chief, a wicked smile on his flat face, “I gotta job fer ‘im.”

Overhead, Durunak was watching the pit opening.  A few hundred yards away, Zurmak was on guard near the fire.  Durunak cradled his great ax in one arm and his crossbow lay loaded and cocked against his leg.  He had seen one furtive goblin trying to peer over the top of the pit in the last hour but the ugly face had disappeared before he could get a shot at it.  Now he rocked back and forth, staring intently at the pit, trying to keep warm and hoping for a chance to kill one goblin before the night was out.  So intently was he focused on the pit that it was not until the last moment that he heard the sound of someone behind him.  He turned just in time to see a goblin crouched about twenty feet away, a crude short bow, drawn and aimed at him.  

Just in time Durunak rolled to the side and hefted his axe.  The arrow struck forcefully at the spot he had just been occupying.  Wasting no time Durunak bellowed loudly and then rushed to attack.

Back at the fire Zurmak heard his cousin’s battle cry and leaped to his feet.  He rushed over to Minlion and kicked him awake.

“Somethings attacking Durunak,” said Zurmak and then he rushed out into the darkness.  Minlion struggled awake and, moving to awaken the other two, he began to put on his armor.

Durunak dodged aside as the goblin drew a sword and tried to gut him and then with a ferocious bellow he swung his great axe over and down into the goblins small unprotected head.  Though Vergush’s head was hard, there was no real contest.  The axe won.  Vergush slumped to the ground dead.  

Exultant, Durunak rejoiced loudly.  Unfortunately Vergush had not been sent alone.  The four goblins hiding a short distance away fired.

Zurmak was in time to see the two arrows land in his cousin.  One struck Durunak in the thigh, but the other struck him in the back.  With a look of anger and bewilderment on his face, Durunak collapsed forward.  About fifteen feet away from Durunak Zurmak saw the four goblins, bows in hand.

“NO!” screamed Zurmak as he charged mindlessly toward the goblins.  Rage at the thought of his cousin’s demise filled him.  In the space of three heartbeats he was amongst them, his axe swinging.  One of the goblins fell immediately, his skull cleaved open.  The other three goblins dropped their bows and went for the wooden clubs at their sides.  Zurmak turned aside their attempts to hit him with his shield and then cut open the throat of a second goblin.  He twisted away from a club swing, blocked the other club with his shield and then backhanded his axe into the chest of the one that was now behind him.  A third goblin fell to the ground, it’s life-blood spilling away.  The remaining goblin desperately tried to defend himself but, in seconds, he too lay on the ground.  

Still filled with rage, Zurmak hacked at the prone bodies, making sure they were dead.  Only then did he turn to examine Durunak.

To Zurmak’s surprise, his cousin still breathed, though shallowly.  Mustering all that he knew about tending to the wounding Zurmak removed the arrows and worked to stop the bleeding.  

About that time the other three arrived.  They had each taken the time to put their armor on and so had arrived too late.  All they could do was help carry Durunak back to the warmth of the fire.

The goblins did not attack again that night.

By morning Durunak was awake, though weak.  The others carried his pack for him and slowly they left behind the camp and the fire that had kept them warm through the cold night.

About a half mile to their west, the freshly fallen body of a once fair maiden lay unmoving upon the ground.  Near her open skull a fresh yellow flower opened its petals to the morning sun and moved gently in the chill wind that blew across the steppes.


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## Wicht (Oct 15, 2003)

For what it is worth, I intend to try and keep this not so much a "story" hour as a "stories" hour.  That is, I am going to attempt to tell each story as if it was an entity in and of itself, with beginning, middle and end.  There will of course be a continuity between them, but hopefully by the end of each story, the reader will feel satisfied with the conclusion.  

_*Chill Winds*_ thus is done.


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## Darklone (Oct 15, 2003)

Nice. I thought about doing a goblin game after reading this.


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

*Tale 2 – Black Waters**
Part 1*

The horsemen stood upon the rise, if one could call a fifteen foot change in elevation a rise, and watched them approach.  The land was very flat here, just south of the great Rytarr woods.  It was a rugged land, filled with horses, buffalo, reindeer and the occasional man.  It was a land where the wind, when it blew, swept by swiftly.  Warm and swift in the summer, cold and swift in the winter.  It was a land in which a man could get lost.

Or a woman.

“Maybe they know where to find this village,” said Hulmar to Leesarel.  Hulmar was Leesarel’s cousin and as usual, he was very polite to her, even when he thought the situation was her fault.  

“It has to be around here someplace,” muttered Durunak, the shaggy looking dwarf who was walking just a short way behind the two elves.  

Leesarel tried not to let the dwarf’s surely attitude affect her.  The others looked to her as a leader, both because of her age (She was 50 years older then Hulmar and almost a hundred years older than either of the two dwarves.  She did not even bother to try and compare her age to that of Bo, their halfling archer or Minlion, her human friend.) and because this excursion had been her idea.  She did not feel comfortable as a leader, hated to take the blame for being lost and did not want to look like a failure in the eyes of anyone.  

She had no idea what the job they were about to volunteer for entailed, but had hearing through her superiors of a town in need, she had pushed herself forward as a volunteer (along with her friends whom she knew to be on their way to see her.)   Nobody had mentioned, either, at the time that there were no roads leading to Darkonirr, the village in question.

“Let’s ask them,” said Leesarel looking at the horsemen with her keen elvish vision, “They are Dejy, nomads who raise horses.  Really Big horses.”

“I wonder how much one of their horses cost?” mused Bo.

“Probably more than you have,” said Hulmar.

“I wouldn’t mind a horse,” said Zurmak, Durunak’s cousin, no doubt thinking of the hundreds of miles he had walked over the past month.

“What do you need a horse for,” groused Durunak in his harsh, deep chested voice, “You would never find me on a horse.  My two feet is good enough for me and it should be good enough for you.”

As the six travelers approached the mounted Dejy, a group of four of the horsemen broke away from the others and rode down to meet them.  Behind the horsemen they could see a goodly sized herd of horses.  True to their reputation, the horses of the Dhrokker steppes were massive animals.

“Who are you?” called the lead horseman as he drew near.

“I am Zurmak,” said Zurmak, taking the initiative and answering first, “Who are you?”

“We are the Bandargi, horsemen,” said the man, not bothering to give his individual name, “What are you doing on our land?”

“Do you know of a place called Darkonirr?” asked Durunak.

At the mention of the Fhokki village the Dejy’s face grew grim.

“If you seek Darkonirr, it is ten miles due east from where you are standing.  But I warn you, those villagers are not to be trusted.”

So saying the four horsemen wheeled their large mounts around and began to ride back up to their people.

Leesarel felt like somehow the situation had gotten ahead of her.  She had not even managed to say a word, though she was the nominal leader.

“But I wanted to ask them why the villagers were not to be trusted,” she protested to no one in particular.

“I wanted to ask them how much their horses were!” complained Bo.

“You don’t need horses!” growled Durunak as he turned and started heading due east.


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

I know the last entry is short - but I already typed a full post for my other story hour tonight and rather than waiting to update this one till tomorrow - I just thought I would go with what I had done - consider it a teaser for the Tale of "Black Waters".


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## Capellan (Oct 17, 2003)

Welcome back to the SH business, Wicht 

Any chance we'll be seeing encounters for these campaigns, as we did for Servants of the Swift Sword?


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## Wicht (Oct 17, 2003)

Thanks Capellan.

There's a chance that I'll start another thread for the encounters.  But it won't be for a couple of weeks at least.  For one thing, my notes have been very rough this far and need quite a bit of polishing.  For another..., well I don't have to tell you that working on two story hours is more timeconsuming then working on one.


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## Yokiboy (Oct 28, 2003)

Hey Wicht,

I love your story hours, very evocative! Please keep up the good work and good luck with your campaign.

TTFN,

Yokiboy


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## Wicht (Nov 4, 2003)

*Black Waters - Part 2*
Darkonirr was a simple hamlet, surrounded by a log fence.  It lay near the shores of a small river, really little more than a large stream.  A goodly number of sheep wandered the land in and around the village.  Mixed in among the sheep were chickens, horses, cows and a few dogs.  The smell as one approached the village was similar to that of a barnyard.  The people of Darkonirr were obviously of Fhokki descent in the main.  Tall and broad shouldered, they towered over the party of travelers as they entered through the gate. 

A tall, blond young man with a relatively short beard stepped forward to greet them as they entered into the village.  He steered directly for Leesarel.  Two other young men followed after him.

“Are you Leesarel?” he inquired in the Merchant tongue to the elf woman.  

“I am,” she replied using the same language.  She could speak Fhokki but not well.

“Good,” he said enthusiastically, “I am Walimar, Son of Terfdar, one of the village elders.  We have been expecting you most eagerly since word came from High Huntress Alentarr that you would be seeking to help us.”

“That is good.”

“Indeed, Indeed, I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“It went well, though tell me, what do you know of the Bandargi?  We asked directions from one and he did not seem happy with your village.”

The young man’s cheerful face grew momentarily dark, “I am afraid that the situation between us and the Bandargi is tense at the moment.  We have had good relationships with them for many years, but lately they have begun to accuse us of killing some of their horses and in return we have been finding some of our sheep killed.  But thankfully for your sakes,” and his face brightened again, “You have not been asked to deal with such trivial matters for us, we have a much graver situation to the south… But I get ahead of myself.  Why don’t I show you to the village Inn and there you can rest for an hour or two while the elders gather and prepare to meet you.  My father and the other two elders will explain matters to you.”

“That sounds good,” said Leesarel.

“Aye,” growled Durunak, “tell me lad, do you have any suitable weaponsmiths in the village?”

“And horses,” said Bo, “We had thought of looking into buying horses.”

“To be sure,” said Walimar addressing the Shaggy Dwarf first, “We have some fletchers, but as for metal weapon-smiths, no… most of our weapons are used or transported here from outside the village.”

“What about horses?” asked Hulmar.

“We have horses,” said Walimar with a grin, “perhaps one of our men will be willing to part with some of his horses for a price.”

“Now,” said Walimar, “How about the Inn.”

The inn was a clean, one story building with rooms built along its back for guests to stay in.  The six travelers each paid a silver coin for the use of one of the rooms in which to sleep for the night and then followed this up with another silver coin for a hot meal.  The food, mutton and vegetables, was good and while they ate the companions talked.  Durunak was interested in finding the village smithy and seeing what sort of work he did.  Hulmar, Zurmak and Bo still talked of the advantages of having mounts in such a desolate area.  Leesarel was burning with curiousity about the situation between the Bandargi and the people of Darkonir.  Minlion simply ate in silence.

About the time they were done with their meal, Walimar returned to the inn.

“The elders are ready to see you now,” he said cheefully, “We should not keep them waiting.   I trust you are all ready?”  

*****

	The house in which the Elders convened to issue judgements upon the people of Darkonir was a simple one room log building.  Inside, against the left hand wall, a large fire blazed, making the whole room swelter with heat.  Across the room was a table set up with three seats behind it.  Three elderly men sat in the seats.  Despite their age, each of the three men was a big man and each appeared hearty and hale.  A bison skin decorated the middle floor as a rug but otherwise the room was devoid of decoration.  Near the fire stood a fourth man, tall and handsome.  

	As Walimar escorted the party into the room Leesarel recognized the fourth individual for what he was, a fellow servant of the Huntress.  She nodded politely to him and then the party moved to stand in a line near to the table of the elders.

	“Greetings good friends,” said the man in the middle rising from his seat, “I am Dresmin, the village blacksmith.  On my right is Terfdar and on my left is Shanko.  We are the elders of this community and we are glad you have come.  Our village priest Ruthdar has asked to be present at this meeting with you.”

	“How may we serve you,” asked Leesarel politely but making sure to speak before any of her five companions could speak.  

	“For some time now,” said Dresmin sitting back down, “We have been experiencing a loss of livestock in some of the areas south of our community.  We are one of the few villages to raise sheep in these regions and some of our sheep have been killed by strange monsters.  Recently one of our herders claimed to have seen a small dragon flying over the area.  This fits in with the fact that some of the remains we have found have been burned, almost melted.  We want you to kill the dragon for us.”

	There was a moment of palpable silence.  Durunak’s eyes bugged open and he opened his mouth as if trying to speak.  The color slowly drained from Leesarel’s face as she contemplated facing a savage dragon with her group of untested warriors.  

	Dresmin saw the look of shock on their faces.  He opened his mouth to speak but Durunak finally managed to get the words out.

	“You want us to fight a dragon for you?” he sputtered through his shaggy beard, his voice slightly higher than normal.

	“Oh, no, no, no… well yes,” said Dresmin, “But it’s a small dragon, very small.  And we are willing to pay you 500 gold coins, almost all that we could raise.”

	“A small dragon?” said Hulmar, “Just how small?”  Hulmar still looked skeptical, as did Leesarel and Durunak.  At the mention of the money however Bo, Zurmak and Minlion had all smiled.

	“A few feet long perhaps, not very big at all,” answered Terfdar, speaking for the first time, “We would do it… but we are not really many of us warriors you see.  A few of us have some training but we figured this was a job better handled by… those who weren’t from Darkonir."

“Another of our shepherds tried to locate it,” said Dresmin, “and he claims to have seen it landing and swimming in a body of water about ten miles south of the village.”

	Ruthdar the priest interjected at this point, “The witness is very reliable and he was certain it could not have been more than about three or so feet in length.  The lake is not hard to find either, I can arrange for a guide to take you there.”

	“Will you do this for us?” asked Dresmin, “We have lost many animals and are afraid soon we may lose some people to this monster.”

	Leesarel bit her lip and looked over at Durunak.  Durunak nodded at her after a moment.  She looked at Hulmar.

	“Why not,” said Hulmar in the High Elf tongue with a resigned air.

	“Sure,” said Zurmak.

	“I will do it,” said Bo.  Minlion nodded his agreement to the proposition.

	“Okay then,” said Leesarel to the three elders, “we will do it.”

	“Good,” said Dresmin and the three elders all smiled with relief, “If there is anything we can do to help you let us know.”

	“Can you help us out with some supplies,” said Durunak.  

	“I am sure that some of our local merchants would be eager to sell you what you need,” said Dresmin with a big toothy smile.  

	“What can you tell me about the Dargonir,” said Leesarel, eager to find out more about the local gossip.


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## Yokiboy (Nov 4, 2003)

Wicht said:
			
		

> “What can you tell me about the Dargonir,” said Leesarel, eager to find out more about the local gossip.




Yes what indeed? I'm looking forward to the story myself.


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## Broccli_Head (Nov 5, 2003)

I think I need something more to read, so I'll try this story out.


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## Wicht (Nov 5, 2003)

*Black Waters – Part 3*

The next morning found the six companions standing on a small hill looking down upon a large body of black water.  Their guide, a young lad of about fifteen winters excused himself and hurried away to the north, back to Darkonirr.  The wind blew around them but it was warmer than it had been, the weather seemed to have turned, one last gasp at warmness.  Overhead the sky was grey.  

There was little sign of life across the plains as they surveyed the region.  Below them the wind moved the water a little if any and its flat surface easily mirrored the grey sky.  The only feature of any interest that they could see was the small island about a mile away, situated in the middle of the lake.  The lake appeared to be about two miles across.  

Following their meeting with the elders the previous afternoon, they had spent the rest of the day in relative futility and were therefore eager come the dawn to be out and about being useful.  Hulmar, Bo, and Zurmak had looked into the subject of horses but had found the cost prohibitive for their purposes.  Leesarel had asked around about the Bendargi horsemen but had found out nothing she had not already been told – namely the Darkonirr villagers felt the Bendargi were killing some of their sheep and oxen and the Bendargi kept accussing the people of Darkonirr of killing horses.  All told they had gone to bed nervous and frustrated.  Perhaps it was the unknown factor of the dragon that was making them somewhat highstrung.

“If there is a dragon,” grumbled Durunak with his deep voice as they surveyed the water.

“I never heard of a dragon living in a lake,” said Hulmar, though their guide had told them that the witness claimed to have seen the monster flying in and out of the still surface of the lake.  

“It could be something that just looks like a dragon,” agreed Leesarel, “What we need is a plan.”

Durunak plopped himself on the ground and looked at the water.  

“Well, lets first make a camp,” suggested Hulmar.

“Why would we do that,” groused Durunak shaking his shaggy head at the elf.  “The towns only a three hour walk, we can always just head back there.” 

They stood and stared a while longer at the calm, dark waters of the lake.  

“I am not sure I believe there are any dragons here,” said Leesarel, “I wonder what he did see?”

“If it is or if it isn’t a dragon we need to draw it out of the water,” said Hulmar, “How are we going to do that.”

“Throw rocks in the lake,” said Durunak.

“Throw rocks?”

“Do you got a better idea?” growled the dwarf.

“No…”

“Then I am going to throw rocks in the lake.”

With a smile Bo chipped in, “I want to throw rocks in the lake too.”

Zurmak added, “I have always wanted to learn to skip rocks,” and then smiling he moved to follow Bo and Durunak who were already heading down to the lake.  Leesarel frowned.  It didn’t exactly seem like what she had wanted when she had said that they needed a plan.  She pulled out her bow and moved to follow the two dwarfs and the halfling.  Minlion and Hulmar stood uncertainly for a moment and then moved to follow the others down the hill to the lake shore.  

Durunak stopped about thirty feet from the Lake.  

"I think this is close enough," he said and he picked up a rock and threw it in the water.  It landed with a loud plop and little ripples flowed out from the impact.  

“Ah, lets get closer,” said Zurmak walking past Durunak.

“You needed a bigger rock,” said Bo also moving past Durunak.

“No I didn’t,” huffed Durunak to the halfling.

Bo found a suitable rock about the size of his head and hefting it up, the small halfling staggered over to the lake edge and heaved it in.  SHLOP! Water shot up into the air and cascaded back into the lake creating many more small ripples.  The water was black and dirty and filled with vegetation.  Even at the edge of the lake it was hard to see to the bottom.

“I can do better than that,” laughed Zurmak and walking down to the water with his dwarven war ax firmly in one hand he began to use it to splash the water.

“Uuhh,” said Leesarel coming up behind Durunak, who was watching his cousin and laughing “I am not sure…”

But what elf was unsure of remained unsaid for at that moment a small black wing shape launched itself out of the water and flew straight at Zurmak.  

It was clearly a dragon, albeit only about four feet long from head to tail.  What Zurmak saw was the teeth though as the small mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and two over sized fangs clambed down hard on his arm.  

The companions froze for a fraction of a second, all except Hulmar who, being some distance back with Minlion, immediately began to run towards the lake, drawing an arrow as he ran.  Durunak reacted with panic, swinging his ax like a club into the scaly black body that was writhing around his arm, teeth clamped down.  The whip like tail and the large wings flew everywhere and the water splashed violently.  The dragon released its hold as the ax struck it but only out of anger.  It opened its mouth and a stream of greenish liquid flew out from between its jaws.  

Zurmak threw himself sideways into the water trying to avoid the spray, but he was too slow and the greenish stream of liquid struck his armor.  Immediately the armor began to sizzle and the leather curled.  The dragon at the same instance it spit out the acid used Zurmak’s body as a launching pad and flung itself back and into the water.  It broke the surface with a neat splash and promptly disappeared into the lake.  

“Back!” shouted Durunak, “Back from the Water!”


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## Broccli_Head (Nov 6, 2003)

Is Zurmack alive or dead?


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## Darklone (Nov 7, 2003)

I'd say still alive... but for how long?


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## Wicht (Nov 25, 2003)

*Black Waters – Part 4*

The companions hurriedly moved back away from the water.  Zurmak splashed out, his armor still smoking from the acid breath of the small dragon.  Once away from the water’s edge, they stood and stared in stunned silence at the once more calm black waters of the lake.

“I thought dragon’s breathed fire,” said Minlion.

“Different dragons have different weapons,” said Durunak knowledgeably, “Obviously small black dragons breath acid.”

“And can live in water,” said Leesarel.

“Do you know what we need?” asked Durunak.

“What?” replied Zurmak.

“Sheep!”

Leesarel, Minlion and Zurmak all stared at Durunak.

In the brief silence that followed Hulmar’s voice suddenly rang out, “Do you know there is no ‘k’ in the elven tongue.”  Leesarel turned to look at her cousin.  He was standing about 3 yards behind her, involved in some conversation pertaining to linguistics with Bo.  

Leesarel rolled her eyes, “Will you two pay attention, we need a plan,” and then to Durunak, “What would we do with a sheep?”

“Use it as bait,… push it out into the lake and then when the dragon comes to eat it we get ‘em.”

“We could throw more rocks in the water to get their attention,” said Leesarel, “that seemed to get a reaction the first time.  If that doesn’t work then we can try to get a sheep.”

“Alright,” said Durunak,  “I have an idea, get me some rope,… wait I have rope in my pack, let me get it.”

They watched the shaggy dwarf open up his pack and pull out his rope.  Then, hefting the rope on his shoulder he began to look around the shore line.  Finally he found a rock that seemed to please him and proceeded to tie the rope securely around the rock.

“What are you doing?” asked Leesarel.

“A fishing line of sorts,” grinned the dwarf through his shaggy brown beard.

“You guys keep your eyes open on the water for anything,” commanded Leesarel as Durunak walked closer to the water.  The shaggy dwarf hefted the rock and then dropped it on the ground.  He grabbed the rope a little ways from the rock and proceeded to start spinning it.  Then when it had achieved enough momentum he cast it out into the lake, the rope trailing behind it and through his hand.  It landed with a plop in the black lake waters and immediately started to sink, dragging the rope down with it.  When he judged the rock to have hit bottom he began to pull the rope back in.

“I see eyes,” shouted Hulmar, rapidly drawing the string back on his bow.

“I see them too,” shouted Zurmak excitedly.

“Well I did see them,” said Hulmar, for the eyes, which had been just out of the water had quickly dissapeared back under the surface of the lake, “It was the dragon, about fifty feet away from the shore watching us, just his eyes above the surface of the water.”

Durunak finished reeling in his rock and hefted it now in his hand, wondering whether or not fishing for dragons with a rock would really work.

“What we need is a boat,” said Hulmar.

“You can do that yourself,” said Durunak, “I ain’t getting in no boat, especially not with a dragon ready to attack me in it and no where to go.”

“Let’s get a sheep,” said Leesarel, “Who wants to go get one.”

“I’ll go,” said Minlion, “I can probably find a shepherd, buy a sheep, and be back within a few hours.”

“I’ll go with him,” said Zurmak.

“Alright,” said Leesarel, “We will wait for you, don’t be long.”

Minlion set off northward, Zurmak following along behind him.  The other four companions watched them crest the hill and then disappear from sight.

“Now what?” said Hulmar.

“We watch and wait,” said Leesarel sitting down upon the ground.

They waited.  Durunak stood about thirty feet from the waters edge, casting stones into the lake and watching them dissapear.  Bo stood a little closer and did the same.  Hulmar stood silently nearby, bow in hand, his sharp elven eyes scanning the calm, black lake surface.  

Time passed slowly.  Durunak gave up on the rocks and sat down watching the lake.  Bo, somewhat bored, began to practice skipping stones across the water.  

Suddenly Leesarel jumped to her feet and drawing her bow in the same motion fired an arrow out over the water.  She had seen the small dragon head break the surface of the lake, watching them.  Her arrow hit the water near the head and skipped up and then shot down into the water.  She had missed.  The dragon’s small head disappeared.

She moved closer to the water in case it should resurface.  

“Do you see it,” she asked, “I saw it and then it was gone.”

“I see a dragon,” said Hulmar, “but it’s a different dragon.”  He pointed out and up into the sky.  Leesarel looked and saw it.  Durunak and Bo strained to see it but could make out little more than a black speck that could have been a bird.

“It took off from the other side of the lake about when you fired at the one dragon,” said Hulmar, “And now I think it is coming our way.”


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## Elder-Basilisk (Nov 26, 2003)

A big dragon would mean big trouble for the young adventurers, what will happen next? Tune in--hey, when can we tune in to get the update?


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## Broccli_Head (Nov 26, 2003)

Big Dragon for inexperienced adventurers = TPK


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## Darklone (Nov 27, 2003)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> Big Dragon for inexperienced adventurers = TPK



Depends how fast they run & hide


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## Wicht (Dec 2, 2003)

*Black Waters – Part 5*

The elves watched the new dragon as it drew closer.  It was, they decided, about the same size as the first dragon.  Its black wings scarcely moved as it floated through the sky.  Finally it began diving and gracefully landed on the island in the middle of the lake.  

The two elves watched it as it walked up and down the island’s beach for a few moments and then it dived into the water and disappeared from sight.  The party was so intent on watching this new dragon that they did not notice the small eyes of the other dragon once more watching them from only about twenty yards away.  

The eyes rested just above the surface of the water, the dragon floating like some dark crocodile with wings.  The wings, unseen above the water, were actually outstretched, serving to balance the dragon’s narrow body and keep it afloat and steady.  The dragon watched the four companions for a few moments longer and then, before it could be spotted and shot at, it flipped its wings and with a serpentine flick of its tail, it propelled itself under the water to find its sister.

The dragon’s name was Xar’Kalt, a name it had given itself.  It meant Black Killer, and though it was not a very original name, it was apt enough.  Five years back, a lone female black dragon had laid a clutch of seven eggs on the bottom of the lake near a small natural hot spring.  Then, uncaring, the mother had left, having done her bit for the continuation of the species.  The eggs had hatched a few months later and the seven infant dragons had lived for a while on worms and fish.  The largest of the litter, Xar’Kalt had, within a year, killed off his other siblings, all of them that is, except for one sister.  Some primitive but strong part of his draconic mind had hinted at the need to keep one female alive.  He had called his sister Drixarkar, meaning little black fang and the two of them had lived quite peaceably under the black lake waters together, constantly growing and constantly eating.

But now that peace looked to be about to be spoiled and Xar’Kalt was not too happy about it.  But in his pride he imagined that with Drixarkar’s help he could chase the intruders away.  

It was about an hour later when Xar’Kalt returned to see what the intruders were up to.  With some amusement he saw that they were struggling to force a sheep into the water.  Xar’Kalt knew what the sheep was, he had killed several of them and found their taste appealing, even more so when bits of the animal had been left buried in the mud for a week or two.  But he was not sure why the intruders would be forcing the animal into the lake against the animal’s will.  Filled with curiosity he moved closer to the intruders and adjusted his ears in order to hear them better.  

“Stupid sheep!”  

This was from Minlion who was at the moment singlehandedly trying to push the animal toward the water.  Despite Minlion’s assessment of the animal’s intelligence, the sheep knew what it smelled on the water and was with a determination borne of mind-numbing fear, kicking and struggling to go the other way.  Durunak, who had initially been the one trying to get the animal into the water, but who also had since given up, watched on with some amusement.  The sheep had a length of rope, Durunak’s rope, to be exact, tied around its neck, and Minlion was trying to use this to steer the sheep.  But while Minlion could get the front half of the sheep to cooperate, the back half of the sheep was determined to fight.      

“I say we wound it and throw it in.  Then when the dragon comes to munch it we can get it.”  Thsi was from Durunak.

“No!” protested Leesarel, “Using it as bait is one thing but deliberate cruelty to it is another.  That’s mean!  Brutal!”

“Just pick it up by the legs and throw it in,” said Hulmar.

“You try grabbing its legs!” said Minlion with some heat as the animal tried to kick him again.

“Just break its legs!” shouted Durunak.

None of them, caught up as they were with the sheep, noticed the small dragon creeping closer and closer to them.  Xar’Kalt, after listening to the companions argue, had managed to deduce the sheep was meant to distract him and put him off his guard.  With a cunning sense of humor the small dragon realized the plan was perfect, perfect for himself that was.  None of the six companions were paying any attention.  The sheep had distracted them and put them off their guard.  Xar’Kalt scanned the group and chose his target.  The smallest of the six had its back to him.  With a flap of his wings and a slight hiss, Xar’Kalt reared from the water and breathed a line of acid straight at the halfling, Bo.

It was probably the sound of the splashing water that saved Bo from being burnt worse.  The small halfling turned just as the dragon reared out of the water and dived aside as the caustic venom flew through the air at him.  The acid struck Bo’s legs as he rolled aside, but the majority of it missed him and though the acid burned slightly the fabric of the halfling’s pants was the worst victim of the attack.

Hulmar was the first to react.  The elf drew and arrow and fired it at the dragon all in the space of a heartbeat.  Unfortunately the arrow flew wide and missed the dragon by some five feet.  Zurmak also reacted quickly, pulling out his bow and preparing an arrow.  But before Zurmak could fire Durunak was charging through the lake water towards the dragon.

The water slowed the dwarf down some, but the dragon was not far out, being only about ten feet from the shore.  With a roar of dwarven fury Durunak was upon the dragon, his massive ax cleaving through the air.  The dragon moved with reptilian fluidity but not quickly enough to entirely escape being bruised as the axe head, angled slightly, smacked into him with the top half of the weapon.  

The dragon bit and tore at Durunak with claws and fangs and then propelled itself backwards through the water, away from the dwarf.

As Durunak moved to follow the dragon he noticed the water to his left moving.  Moving entirely on instinct the dwarf propelled himself backwards just as a second small dragon head crested out of the water and breathed a line of acid across at him.  The acid singed Durunak’s beard, but did little else.  

Bo, his bow now in his hands, had been aiming at the first dragon, but upon seeing the second rise up from the water adjusted and fired at the new danger.  His arrow narrowly missed the small draconic head, the arrow skipping once off the surface of the dark lake.  

“No!” shouted Zurmak and fired at the first dragon.  His arrow was the first to make contact, the steel arrow-head ripping through one of the dragon’s wings.  

“May the Great Huntress Bless us,” called Leesarel loud and clearly.  The companions felt their limbs grow stronger and smiled as new confidence flowed into them.  Despite the divine blessing he could feel empowering him, Durunak still chose to move back and away from the first dragon.  He sensed the dragon was trying to draw him out into deeper waters and knew that he, a dwarf with no great love of swimming, would be far easier prey out there.  

And then Minlion was in the water, his sword drawn.  The human fighter had moved around to the side of the second dragon and then when close enough had charged through the water.  The dragon, focused as it was on Durunak, noticed Minlion too late.  The fighter’s sword stabbed into it’s lithe body, drawing forth a blood nearly as dark as the dragon’s scales.  

Bo fired again at the second dragon, but in attempting not to hit Minlion, he fired too wide.  The dragon bit at Minlion and then, copying the example of her brother, she swam a further five feet out into the water.  Unfortunately for the female dragon, her movement made her an easier shot for Hulmar and Leesarel who both managed to clip her with an arrow.  

Durunak, having moved even further away from the first dragon was busy swapping his ax for his crossbow.  But Xar’Kalt was not about to offer himself as a target.  With a flip of his body, the small dragon turned and dived under the water and out of sight.  

Durunak, his crossbow pre-loaded, turned from the spot where Xar’Kalt had been and aimed instead at the other dragon.  The bolt was just a little too high and flew over the dragon’s head.  Paniced, and not having quite the guile of her brother, Drixarkar, did the only thing she could think of, she charged forward once more at Minlion.  The fighter fended off the small dragon with his shield and moved quickly back and away from her attacking form.  

There was a whirr and a thud and then the dragon stopped moving.  Bo had sunk his arrow into her chest.  The long body floated atop the water, only the tail still twitching, black blood dissapearing into the black water.  

“Get it!” shouted Durunak, “Minlion, drag the body out of the water!”

Minlion moved to comply with the shaggy dwarf’s command, grabbing the tail of the now dead dragon and pulling it with him towards the shore.

Even as Minlion neared the water’s edge, Xar’kalt, enraged at the death of his sister, raised his head twenty feet away from the human and breathed a line of acid straight at him, striking him full in the chest.


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## Elder-Basilisk (Dec 3, 2003)

Exellent tale; I look forward to seeing how this chapter ends.


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## Broccli_Head (Dec 3, 2003)

Nice having a perspective on the young black dragon. 
'Cept now I want him to win


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## Broccli_Head (Dec 3, 2003)

How often do you play?


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## Broccli_Head (Dec 3, 2003)

I accidentally triple-posted   

So here's another question: How did you decide to play in Northern Kalamar?


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## Wicht (Dec 4, 2003)

I decided to play in northern Kalamar because 
1) I really like Kalamar and use it for all my campaigns.
2) I wanted to play some games with snow and chilling winds

As to how often we play, we haven’t actually played in about a month and I don’t know how often this actual group will play  in the future.  However I am about three sessions behind in the story hour (two full tales) and I have structured it in such a way that I can continue the story-line of the campaign with a different mix of players (which I may end up doing).


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## Wicht (Dec 10, 2003)

*Black Waters **– Part 6* 
Minlion stumbled backwards as the line of acid hit him in the chest and splashed on his hands and face.  The dragon, before anyone could react had flipped around and dove out of sight into the water.  As the acid continued to burn at his armor and skin, Minlion hurriedly plunged himself down into the lake and then back up, quenching the acid.

“Out of the lake,” shouted Leesarel to Minlion, “Durunak, get that sheep!”

“Aye lass,” said Durunak moving to comply.   

The sheep, wiser perhaps than its two legged owners, had beat a hasty retreat when the dragons had first attacked and was standing some fifty feet away from the lake.  Fortunately it still had Durunak’s rope tied around its neck and so Durunak, instead of chasing the sheep, sensibly located the end of the rope and grabbed that instead.

Armed once more with potential bait, Durunak moved over to where the others were grouped at the water’s edge.  

“Well, what…” began Durunak, but he did not get to finish his question.

Some thirty feet away, the small dragon head once more had reared out of the water and had once more breathed its caustic acid.  The acid flew straight at Minlion, striking him on his arm.  

As the acid instantly burned through Minlion’s tunic and into his skin, Minlion reacted by yelling in pain.  Zurmak reacted a bit more practically and instantly loosed off an arrow at the small black target.  The dragon’s head, all that was above the water, was too small a target and the arrow missed.  The dragon once more disappeared under the black surface of the lake.   

“Those things can breathe that acid that far?” asked Durunak in astonishment.

“Evidently so,” said Hulmar dryly.

“Everybody back!” shouted Durunak but the words were unnecessary.  The companions were all struggling to put more distance between themselves and the calm but deadly waters.  

“I wonder of Dragon acid can affect other dragons,” mused Leesarel as they continued to move further away from the lake, and then remembering Minlion she moved over to look at his injuries, “I had better take care of that.”

Leesarel prayed and then laid her hands on Minlion.  Instantly, the worst of his wounds closed over and healed themselves.  Examining her other companions, Leesarel saw that Zurmak and Durunak were also injured.  Durunak argued that his cousin should be healed first and so Leesarel complied and prayed and healed Zurmak instead of Durunak.

Then, when Leesarel had no more prepared healing spells, the companions began to argue about what to do next.  Hulmar it turned out was in favor of leaving outright.

“We killed one dragon already,” he was saying, “We take the body back, show it to them and collect our pay.”

“Yeah,” said Bo, “We could do that.”

“That seems dishonest somehow,” said Leesarel, “The dragon is still a danger.”

“Argh, I say we stay and finish the job,” said Durunak, “We can take this thing.”

“I want to stay as well,” said Zurmak, “We don’t want to have to lie about there being no more dragons and we know this one is here now.”

Leesarel looked up at the sun.  It was a little bit after noon.

“We should stay for a few hours longer anyway,” said Leesarel, “There’s no hurry to get back and we should kill this second dragon.”

“Well, let’s throw this sheep in the water and see if we can get that dragon back where we can kill it,” said Zurmak.

“We need to break it’s legs,” said Durunak, “That way it can’t run away again.”

“That’s not nice,” said Leesarel.

“Watch me do it,” said Durunak, picking up a huge rock with which to slam against the sheeps legs.  

“No!” said Leesarel heatedly, moving to grab the rock from the dwarf.  The sheep, its nerves already a little frayed, sensing conflict again, began to move away from the comotion.  Zurmak moved to grab the sheep.  The sheep began kicking and Zurmak was forced to put its neck in a hold to keep it still.

Bo and Minlion were laughing at the sheep’s antics and at the fight over a rock between Leesarel and Durunak.  Leesarel finally managed to wrest the rock away and threw it on the ground.

“Fine!” said Durunak, “I can get another.”

“Oh for goodness…” muttered Hulmar as he drew out his bow, “Let’s just kill the sheep and get it over with.  Sheep steaks sound good for lunch.”

“No!  The poor sheep does not need to be killed.” shouted Leesarel, turning on her cousin as he nocked an arrow and prepared to fire it at the sheep.

Startled, Hulmar loosed the arrow, which flew over the sheep’s back.

“Hey!” protested Zurmak, still holding the sheep.

“Watch me,” said Bo with a grin and he fired an arrow neatly into the sheep.  The sheep convulsed and then, kicking one final time, fell to its knees dead. 

“That,” said Leesarel angrily, “was unnecessary.”

But the brief ruccus had broken some of the companion’s tensions and there was no more talk of leaving.  

“Let’s get the bait in the water then,” said Zurmak, heaving the sheep onto his shoulder and marching it down to the lake edge.  Standing just in the water, he heaved the still bleeding carcass some five feet out into the lake, where it bobbed sadly.  

	“Here dragon,” called Hulmar, “want some fresh mutton!”  The others, even Leesarel, laughed and they readied their weapons to see if the dragon would take the bait.

Time slowly passed, first in seconds and then in minutes.  And then…

The dragon reared it’s head out of the water from about twenty feet away and breathed a line of acid at Zurmak.  Zurmak rolled away, missing the brunt of the attack, but still getting splashed with the burning liquid.  Bo and Hulmar quickly loosed arrows at the small black target and then once more the dragon was gone.  

Frustrated the companions once more moved away from the lake.  The dragon, it appeared, did not like their bait.


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## Wicht (Dec 16, 2003)

*Black Waters – Part 7*

The companions stared in frustration at the placid dark waters of the lake.  The sheep’s carcass floated morosely, a piece of bait that was not working.  Somewhere out there they knew swam one more small black dragon, but how to get it they had not a clue.

For his part, the small black dragon Xar’kalt watched the companions in frustration and anger.  Lying still and unseen behind some lake grass, the black dragons eyes barely cleared the surface of the lake some 100 feet away from the six warriors.  A part of Xar’kalt’s mind wanted revenge for the death of his sister.  A larger and more practical part of his mind wanted these dangerous interlopers to leave him (and his rather small collection of treasure) in peace.  The small dragon however did not have a clue on how to get them to leave.  

And then one of them, one of the short, partially furry ones started to move towards the water.  Smiling to himself Xar’kalt slipped under the water and began to gracefully swim towards the beach.

“What are you doing,” Leesarel asked Durunak as he began trudging towards the shoreline.

“I want my rope back,” huffed the shaggy dwarf, “I ain’t going to leave it tied to that piece of wool forever.”

The dwarf stopped and gazed around at the lake water carefully, pulling out his great axe at the same time.  Then, seeing nothing, he began wadding out to where the sheep was.  The body was now about ten feet away from the shore.  The water there was only about three or four feet deep and so the dwarf was unafraid of drowning.  Determined to move quickly, he reached the body and began to work at the wet knot around the sheeps neck.  

It was then that Xar’kalt struck.  Not bothering to clear the water and use his acid, the small dragon instead lunged at Durunak’s leg.  The small but sharp teeth tore into the dwarf.  The taste of blood excited the small dragon but he did not get another chance to attack.  The dwarf, not completely taken by surprise managed to quickly  recover from the shock of being attacked.  Ignoring the pain, Durunak hefted his axe and cleaved into  the water at the black lithe body.  He could barely make out the black dragon in the dark waters but his aim was still true.  He could feel his axe connect and then, a moment later he felt the dragon moving away from him in the water and saw a flicker of shadow under the dark surface of the water.  

Durunak did not wait for the dragon to return again, nor did he bother to finish untying the knot in the water.  Instead he grabbed at the noose around the sheep’s neck and began pulling the body through the water towards the shore.

The threw the sheep back into the water after Durunak untied the knot, but some minutes later they were ready to try something else.

“Its just not taking the bait,” said Leesarel dejectedly.

“No, its not,” said Hulmar, easing up on his bow and resheathing the arrow he had been holding in readiness for the last twenty minutes or so.

“We ought to use Durunak as bait,” said Leesarel with a grin, “The dragon seemed to go for him.”

Durunak grinned ruefully and then a second later really began to grin.

“We could get a boat,” said Zurmak helpfully.

“And use you as a paddle,” said Hulmar.

“Wait,” Durunak, “Leesarel’s right with her idea of bait.  It goes for us everytime.”

“Yeah!” said Zurmak, “I’m tired of waiting for it.” and with that Zurmak began to march towards the lake, axe at the ready.

“Wait…,” said Leesarel, not entirely sure she liked the idea of using party members as bait.

But Zurmak was already in the lake water, wading out and Durunak was following behind, five feet to his cousins right.  Zurmak paused about ten feet from the water’s edge, where the water came up to his chest.  Durunak stopped at the same point.  With a nod, Minlion moved to join the two dwarfs, five feet to Zurmak’s left.  With a sigh Leesarel nocked an arrow.

She did not have to wait long.  With a shriek the small dragon reared its head about five feet to Minlion’s left.  The elves did not hesitate.  Both Leesarel and Hulmar let fly an arrow.  And both missed.

The dragon breathed its acid at Minlion, who dove down under the water to avoid it.  The acid struck the water and dispersed.  Unfortunately for Minlion, the acid was not diluted enough as he rose up from the water.  The acid stung at his skin and scalp as he stood once more.  

“Back up!” shouted Durunak to Minlion and Zurmak as he began to move once more towards the shoreline, but the other two fighters did not listen, instead holding their ground and moving in closer to the dragon.  Three more arrows skipped into the water around the small black dragon as the archers on the shore fired and then the dragon was charging through the water at Minlion.  

The human fighter held the dragon back behind his shield as he looked for an opening.  Zurmak charged in to help Minlion and the dragon shrieked in rage as it sought to avoid both axe and sword.  But even as it moved down and into the water, considering the idea of fleeing this fight, Minlion stabbed into its shoulder with his sword.  

Xar’kalt paused a moment in disbelieve as it was once more wounded, and then through a haze of rage it saw the other dwarf floundering wildly through the water, the huge axe lifted high above its head.  In wonder it realized for a moment that the shaggy dward was almost literally foaming at the mouth and then the axe descended and the young black dragon saw no more.

“Hack it’s head off,” said Zurmak as the dragon collapsed unmoving into the lake, its body floating just on top of the water.  Minlion moved back, out of the way and Durunak complied, severing the small black head from the thin black scaled body with a single stroke

“Good job cousin,” said Zurmak with a smile as he, Minlion and Durunak waded toward the shore, Durunak dragging the dragon’s body behind him.

“Thanks,” said Durunak, breathing heavily as he recovered from his adrenaline boosting battle rage.  

The six companions silently and competently got ready to leave the black waters of the lake behind them.  

It was Zurmak who had the last word as the left, Dragons bodies and all, “I think,” he said, one of the dragons draped over his shoulder “I think I would really like a pony to ride.”  Durunak, worn out, but still carrying the other dragon on his shoulder, was silent.  He was too tired to argue.


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## Broccli_Head (Dec 16, 2003)

Wicht said:
			
		

> *Black Waters – Part 7*
> 
> “We ought to use Durunak as bait,” said Leesarel with a grin, “The dragon seemed to go for him.”
> 
> ...




Brilliant!


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## Wicht (Dec 17, 2003)

Broccli_Head said:
			
		

> Brilliant!




It was, I will admit, a much better idea than using a rock tied to a rope as a lure.


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