# Rel's Faded Glory - The Early Days



## Rel (Sep 25, 2002)

It was recently brought to my attention that the link in my "Rel's Faded Glory II" story hour thread no longer worked since the board switch.  On the off chance that I attract a new reader now and then, it would be nice if they could go back and read the beginning of the story, so I'm going to repost it in this thread and fix the link.

If you are reading this for the first time, enjoy.

the player characters are:
Speaks With Stone - Human Druid - Speaks With Stone, or Speaks for short was born as Quintus in the city of Oar, south of Glynden along the Crescent Sea. His mother was a Cleric of Obad-Hai and he has always had an affinity for nature. But he became more introverted after his father was murdered by a group of mysterious shadowy figures. He was eventually apprenticed to a druid and has since adopted a somewhat hermitish lifestyle in the wooded hills outside Glynden. His only significant dealings with the folk of Glynden have been through a pair of adventuresome young boys from the town.

Rhys Cameron - Human Rogue/Sorcerer - Rhys is the son of Glynden's resident boyer/fletcher. He has always been one to get into trouble. Much of this was prompted by the tales told to him by his great-grandfather, who lived to an incredibly old age. Although he never came right out and said it, his great-grandfather implied that their family contained the blood of dragons. Sadly, Rhys' great-grandfather died just as Rhys was beginning to develop his sorcerous powers.

Krase Sandoval - Human Ranger - Growing up as the grandson of a legionnaire who mustered out just as the legions were recalled to the heart of the empire, Krase always dreamt of being in the military. As the son of the local tanner, he spent much time hunting the nearby woods for deer hides to bring to his father. After he met Speaks With Stone, who taught him a great deal about the wilderness, he felt that he was certain to be accepted into the Imperial Scouting Corp. He traveled to Oar to apply, but was turned down in favor of recruits of a more noble birth than he. Embittered by this experience, he has recently returned to Glynden to try and prove himself despite his humiliation at being turned away from the military.


Part One - Trouble at the Harvest Festival

Rhys and Krase walked among the various wagons and stalls of the traders from Oar, admiring the various wares they sold. Each had only a few coins to make purchases with but they needed to make a decision soon because the merchants would be headed south within the next few days in order to avoid the first snows.

Lurking nearby was Speaks With Stone. He was recently convinced by Rhys that the townfolk would consider him less of a threat if he were to venture inside the town walls occasionally. Unfortunately, he was uncomfortable around large groups of people and wore a carved wooden mask to feel more secure. Between the mask and Jitterbug, one of the wolves who kept him company in the wilds, none of the people of Glynden was inclined to think of him as harmless.

The clear voice of Kyndalyn the Younger was heard over the noises of the crowd and the merchants hawking their wares, summoning those who would participate in the annual festival events. The first of these events was an archery contest.

Both Rhys and Krase hurried to take a spot in line with the other contestants. Rhys took a moment to load his crossbow while Krase strung his trusty longbow. Most of the other contestants were members of the town guard who spent many hours a week at archery practice.

Each took a turn with the results being predictably accurate, with the exception of a recent young recruit named Tiberious who missed the target entirely, drawing a scowl from Kyndalyn. Rhys took a shot that had good promise, but failed to strike better than the best the guards had to offer. Krase stepped to the line and fired a magnificent shot that nearly struck the dead center of the target (Rolled a 19). In the end, none of the other guardsmen could better his arrow and Krase claimed the prize of a few coins and a handful of the best arrows Rhys' father could make.

Rhys was not bitter about his performance in the competition however, for he had spotted in the crowd the form of young Isabeau. Isabeau was the daughter of Marcus the shepherd who lived in Castellan Cassuvius south of town. Rhys had recently gotten in the habit of "visiting" Isabeau while she was supposed to be watching the flock. Thus far, neither the flock nor Isabeau seemed any worse for Rhys' attentions.

With Rhys occupied chatting with Isabeau, his friend Krase was left to enter the Greased Pig Competition (nods to the Byzantium on the Shannon thread) by himself. Krase was up against a handful of the other young men of the village, including Cassius Jucadius, Junius Octorus and Briley Brathwaite. Uncle Claudius, the town wizard stepped forward with a squirming young pig and with a quick casting of the "Grease" spell, the competition was underway.

While Krase and Briley were quick to go after the pig directly, Cassius and Junius hung back looking for an opportunity to catch the pig as it escaped the others or perhaps just to trip one of their opponents. After a couple of laps around the ring and a couple of narrowly missed opportunities by Briley, Cassius managed to cut off the pig and successfully grapple it. Despite attempts by the others to bull rush and trip Cassius, he hung on for the few extra seconds necessary to be declared the winner. A cheer went up from all of those present from Castellan Jucadius and Cassius was awarded the purse for his victory.

As the cheers died down and the pig was carried away toward the cook pits, Speaks was thinking about leaving town to return to his home in the woods. He had had enough of the large crowd for one day and was feeling resentful about the treatment of the pig. Even though it wasn't a wild animal, it still didn't deserve to be terrorized. He would need to have a talk with Krase about that soon.

As the three friends lingered near the town gate, they heard a cry and looked up to see Pontius Caius, a weaver from Castellan Cassuvius, running to Kyndalyn who stood nearby, giving a firm talk to Tiberious about the importance of archery practice.

Pontius cried out, "Kyndalyn, come quickly! One of the wagons has been attacked on the south road! I'm not sure, but I think it belonged to Marcus!"

Kyndalyn glanced around at the crowd, noting that most of the guardsmen were out of uniform and off duty. Turning to Tiberious, he said, "Go tell the men that I said to man the walls and close the gates behind me. I'm going to see what happened." Then, turning his gaze to Rhys and Krase who still held their bows in hand, he said, "You two, come with me."

NEXT: The Lesser of Two Evils…


----------



## Rel (Sep 25, 2002)

Kyndalyn lead the others south along the road quickly while trying to stay alert for an ambush. Approximately a mile south of town they came across the wagon. The oxen lay dead in their yokes, apparently poleaxed. It was obvious, even at a distance, that the wagon had been hastily ransacked. Sacks of wool lay scattered about the rutted roadway, giving credence to the notion that the wagon was indeed that of Marcus the shepherd.

Without waiting for prompting from Kyndalyn, the party spread out to look for signs of Marcus, his wife, Ilyessa or their attackers. Krase was the first to find anything of significance when he spoted a cluster of tracks leading to the west. They definitely were not human, most likely Gnoll. He called Kyndalyn over to confirm this.
Meanwhile, Rhys had taken a look in the wagon and determined that it had been looted for anything of value. Speaks With Stone followed Jitterbug and her keen nose to a nearby thicket where he made a grisly discovery: The corpses of Marcus and Ilyessa. He knelt down hoping that he was wrong with the incantations for his healing spells hovering behind his lips, but he was too late. Shaking his head grimly, he informed the rest of the group.

Upon hearing the news about Marcus and Ilyessa, Kyndalyn's eyes narrowed and he looked to the west. He balanced his desire for revenge against the safety of young Rhys and Krase. Without waiting for his decision, Krase told the group that they should hurry to catch the Gnolls and set off following the tracks. Without a word, the rest of the group headed west.

As they follow the tracks, Krase notices that the prints of two of the Gnolls seem close together and stay at a constant distance apart, as though they are carrying an object between them. He doesn't mention this to the group.

They followed the tracks for close to two miles when they heard some barking and growling noises as they neared the top of a hill. Cautiously peering over the hilltop, they spied a pair of Gnolls circling a lone barbarian. As the Gnolls moved to attack the barbarian, he let out a cry of rage and rushed one of them with his battleaxe.

Kyndalyn, Krase and Rhys all let fly with their bows and managed to fell one of the Gnolls before it joined the fray. Krase then charged forward intent on bringing his shortswords to bear on the Gnoll, the barbarian or both. As Krase approached the fight, Rhys lined up a careful shot that whizzed just above Krase's shoulder and struck the remaining Gnoll in the back. A chop from the barbarian's great-axe insures that the Gnoll won't rise again. Krase stops just in front of the barbarian and they eye each other suspiciously.

A shout from Kyndalyn in the barbarian tongue told the enraged warrior that he stood little chance if he wished to fight the four of them. The barbarian took a step back and lowered his great-axe all the while giving a disdainful sneer at Krase's puny shortswords.

The rest of the party approached the tense standoff between Krase and the axe wielding warrior of the western wilds. Kyndalyn, hoping to break the tension before any further blows were struck, asked, "Isn't it a little late in the year for a Coritani to be on this side of the river?"

The barbarian smiled and replied in broken imperial that he came seeking the Glynden Council. "Why exactly do you seek the Glynden Council?", Kyndalyn asked in return.

"I bear a message for them," said the barbarian.

Kyndalyn replied that he was one of the council members. The barbarian looked at each of the party members in an attempt to determine if Kyndalyn spoke the truth. Seeing no signs of duplicity and being outnumbered in any event, he cautiously handed over a scroll of imperfectly cleaned vellum with a few stray bits of hair still clinging to it.

"It's not a scroll, it's a squirrel," Rhys quietly joked to Krase. But Krase was in no mood for humor and his eyes did not flicker from the fixed gaze he held on the barbarian. The barbarian stared back contemptuously at the hunter, showing that a skinny town boy with a couple of overgrown cooking knives was of no concern to him.

Kyndalyn finished reading the scroll and, with a worried look on his face, informed the others that they would be going back to town immediately. The barbarian would be accompanying them but Krase would carry his weapons. Krase protested that they should continue chasing the rest of the Gnolls whose tracks went further westward. Kyndalyn informed him that the Gnolls would have to wait for another day.

As the barbarian handed his axe to Krase, he informed him that the axe had belonged to his grandfather and that, should any harm or disrespect come to it, it would be revisited tenfold upon Krase's person. Krase gritted his teeth, but true to his heavy-on-action/short-on-thinking personality, no witty comebacks were forthcoming.

As they approached the town gates, Kyndalyn told the rest of the party to take Ilrath (which they had discovered during their hike was the name of the barbarian) to Nan's tavern and wait there for himself and the rest of the Council. He then gave orders to the gate guards to take a detachment of men to recover the wagon and bodies from down the road. That done, he began making his way through the crowd seeking the other councilors.

Krase, Rhys, Speaks and Ilrath strode past the gawking onlookers to Nan's and told Nan that the council would be needing to hold a meeting there that night. Nan grudgingly agreed but not without loudly complaining about the revenues he would be losing from the festival crowd. He enlisted the aid of Krase in rolling out one of his kegs into the street from which to sell beer to the crowd.

Rhys meanwhile poured a couple of mugs of beer for himself and Ilrath. Ilrath appreciated the beverage and commented that it was less gritty than he was used to.

After a bit, Kyndalyn showed up and asked the others to take Ilrath upstairs to one of the vacant rooms and to stand guard outside until he was called for. Krase, certain that the shiftless barbarian would attempt escape told Kyndalyn that he would stand guard below the window. Kyndalyn told him that he doubted that would be necessary, but Krase stalked outside all the same. Rhys and Speaks took Ilrath upstairs and placed him in one of the several private rooms that Nan rented to travelers.

In short order, the rest of the Council, comprised of Father Thomas, Boss Brathwaite and the four heads of the castellans, Cassuvius, Jucadius, Octorus, and Nacalius were assembled in the common room. Without preamble, Kyndalyn read them the scroll given to him by Ilrath"

_Glynden Council,

We have brought battle to your people many times in recent years. We think you must have no love for us. But we ask for your help anyway.

The Orcs of the Blackpeaks have banded together in numbers like we have never seen. They are bringing battle to us in a vast horde. They have shown in the past that they can battle even in winter. We may not stand against them. In spring, most of the tribes may be gone.

But then you will be next. That is why you should help us stand against them now. If you do not help us, we understand. But they will drive us into your lands across the Fodor. And when we see you, our warriors will know that they lost their homelands because you would not stand with them.

If you will help us, we will not cross the Fodor again. Ever. This is our vow.

I am Hrongar, Chief of the Coritani_

From their post outside the room near the top of the stairs, Rhys and Speaks could hear the discussion fairly well. Likewise for Krase who had stationed himself outside the front door to the tavern.

The counselors immediately began talking loudly back and forth in a cacophony of voices until Cassuvius bellowed, "Quiet!". Then, "What shall we do?"

Nacalius was strongly against helping the barbarians and was quickly joined by Jucadius. Nacalius lost his brother when Aquae Sulis was raided by the Coritani several years ago.

Brathwaite quickly pointed out that helping them now can assure no further attacks in the future and that would be good for Glynden. He also voiced that if the barbarians could be kept at bay, some of the mines to the west of Glynden could be reopened.

Nacalius and Jucadius were quick to point out that they had no reason to trust the word of the barbarians and the point of whether they keep their word in the future is moot if this whole thing were a ruse to draw out their defenses and then crush Glynden. Father Thomas said that Uncle Claudius probably has magic that could ascertain whether Ilrath is telling the truth. Kyndalyn stepped outside and sent Krase to fetch Uncle Claudius.

Cassuvius pointed out that if the story is true, the orcs may make worse neighbors than the barbarians. Especially if the orcs are laying siege to Glynden in the spring, just as the crops need to be planted. Kyndalyn interjected that if the tales of his father and uncle are to be believed, he would far rather share a border with the barbarians than the orcs.

During this discussion, Krase was on his way back to the tavern with Uncle Claudius in tow. As they walked, Krase explained that if Uncle Claudius had any trouble getting the truth out of Ilrath by magical means, he would be happy to apply more primitive measures to the barbarian. Uncle Claudius assured Krase that that would not be necessary. Shortly they arrived back at Nan's.

As they entered, Krase went to Kyndalyn and offered to scout across the Fodor River (*Note: This is my name for the large river that separates the barbarian lands from the rest of the Northlands - It is a different name than that used by Old One*) to determine if the barbarians were setting up a trap. Kyndalyn thanked Krase for the offer and said that he would take that into consideration, all the while giving Krase a scolding look that said that he shouldn't be eavesdropping. Krase was seemingly oblivious to this criticism.

Kyndalyn then sent Krase back outside and gave Uncle Claudius a quick rundown of the situation. Uncle Claudius then went upstairs to use his magic on Ilrath.

Kyndalyn then rejoined the councilors at the table, saying that it would take the guard several weeks to be ready to travel. They were not an army, they were guardsmen. They also needed to do some weapon and armor maintenance that had been somewhat neglected during harvest time. As he began to talk of the supplies that would be necessary, Nacalius burst out that he could not believe that this was even being considered. These were the same barbarians who have put to ruin nearly all of the surrounding towns in the last 20 years. When Octorus voiced his opinion that they should at least consider all of their options, Nacalius stood up in outrage and went to storm out the door.

Krase heard this outburst and did not intend to let Nacalius (who was voicing many of the opinions that Krase shared) leave the meeting so easily. He braced his foot against the door to prevent Nacalius from opening it. Unfortunately for all concerned, the door opened inwards. So, while Nacalius had no trouble whatsoever opening the door, he did trip over Krase's outstretched foot when he tried to walk through it. Nacalius floundered around in the dirty street for a moment before standing and screaming at Krase with incoherent rage. He then stalked off into the evening with the gathered crowd hurrying to get out of his way.

Inside, Jucadius continued to oppose the idea of sending troops to help the barbarians, especially in the absence of any proof that it wasn't a trap. As if in answer, Uncle Claudius returns from the upstairs and proclaims that the story is true, or at least Ilrath believes it to be the truth.

Talk then began in earnest about what preparations would be required to get the guard ready to move. Kyndalyn also wanted to spend a few days preparing the defenses in case of a Gnoll attack or a barbarian double cross. Cassuvius feelt that because the barbarians are in desperate straits and not the most patient of people to begin with, immediate action of some kind is merited. Brathwaite agreed with this heartily, already counting the silver ingots that could be pulled from the mines near Aquae Sulis. Kyndalyn also agreed that immediate action would be preferable but would not compromise the safety of the town for speed.

They ultimately agreed that an advance group should be sent to the Coritani at once to act as emissaries and a show of good faith. Kyndalyn relates Krase's offer that he go and do the scouting. Ultimately, the entire party was asked to participate. All of them were capable fighting men (as had been proven recently) and none were in the guard. Jucadius especially thought this a marvelous idea because it would get that meddlesome druid out of his hair (Speaks' backstory involved some run ins with some of Jucadius' men who were torturing a farm animal. Speaks intervened and threatened to call the wolves out of the hills to hunt down the men).

The party agreed to travel with Ilrath back to the Coritani. They set about buying provisions and supplies for the trip. The council assigned them the following duties in order of importance:

1.	Detect any plans of betrayal among the Coritani or other barbarian tribes.
2.	Get oaths from as many of the tribes as possible that they will never again raid across the Fodor.
3.	Determine if the Orcs are as much of a threat as the Coritani indicated.
4.	Aid the Coritani in withstanding the Orcs until Kyndalyn's guards arrive.

The party was also provided with 2 potions of Cure Light Wounds, A Quall's feather token of a bird that can carry a message about what they find back to Uncle Claudius and ten masterwork ammunition for each missile weapons that they carried.

All of Glynden turned out to see the party off. The village council (with the exception of Nacalius who was nowhere to be seen) shook hands with each member of the group (but not Ilrath). Isabeau, still grieving the loss of her parents is absent, but sent word via the Cassuvius family that she is thankful to Rhys that he helped avenge her parents.

As the group is gathering near the town gate, a callused hand gripped Krase's shoulder. He turns and saw the forge-wrinkled face of Jaffray the Blacksmith. He said, "Come with me a moment, lad."

They stepped aside from the growing crowd into the relative seclusion of the niche between the guard tower and the city wall. "I've something to tell you, boy. It's a secret held by many of the town and I tell it now only because we're in desperate need. I tell you because of who your grandfather was."

_"Years ago when the legion was recalled to the empire, a group of us mustered out. For various reasons, we decided to settle down here and in the surrounding towns. Despite the fact that we had protected the town for many years, we were not quickly accepted as fellow citizens. First of all, every last one of us was born and recruited in the heart of Emor. It was our folk that conquered these lands from the barbarians that were the forefathers of the townspeople. But that isn't the main reason they were slow to accept us. None of us had any real training or skills outside of being in the legion. We hadn't any training in the skills that were valued by the people of Glynden.

So we got together and decided that we needed to make sure that we would have someone to go to when times were bad. We formed a sort of "Brotherhood" and called it the Iron Auxilia. We agreed to contribute a portion of whatever money we earned to the group with the understanding that anybody who fell on hard times could take money out of the pot to get back on his feet. You may recall a few times when folks around town who had a misfortune were able to recover quickly. Remember when Titus Didius had his barn burn down? Remember how quickly he was able to get it rebuilt?

Anyhow, we have a meeting once a year to find out how much money is left in the Iron Auxilia chest. That's right, you guessed it: The Legionnaire's Wake. A member of the group retrieves the chest from a secret place in the countryside and brings it to the Wake. This year, Marcus was bringing the chest. All that money was stolen by those damned accursed gnolls.

If, as you journey to the west, you should come across any more of the gnolls, see if you can recover our money. It represents thirty years of savings and the memories of a lot of our brothers."_

As the party made it's way west on the old, overgrown road to Aquae Sulis, Krase halted them about half an hour outside of town.

"Blood of Kord!" cried Ilrath, "I know you townfolk are soft, but you need to rest already?!"

"No." said Krase coldly. "We need to talk." He then explained about the Iron Auxilia and the stolen money. The group agreed that if the opportunity presented itself to recapture the chest from the Gnolls, they would take it. But they also agreed that it was not their primary mission and they shouldn't delay themselves excessively attempting to hunt down the Gnolls.

NEXT: Westward HO!


----------



## Rel (Sep 25, 2002)

The party continued west on the overgrown road to Aquae Sulis. After a couple days travel, the top of a tower was spotted over the treetops in the distance, indicating that they neared the outskirts of the ruined town. Suddenly, from behind a the remains of a low, rock wall on the north side of the road, a trio of Gnolls leapt to their feet and launched several javelins into the midst of the group.

Rhys was struck and brought close to unconsciousness by the one that struck him while Krase was merely grazed and the third javelin struck Ilrath. Before any of them could react to this, another pair of gnolls stepped from behind a rock formation on the south side of the road and hurled another couple javelins. Thanks to the distance involved, these both missed their marks.

Rhys was the first to overcome the surprise of the attack and took the opportunity to fortify himself with mystical armor and retreat to the back of the group. Krase quickly pulled out his bow and let fly at one of the gnolls behind the wall but his shot struck the rocks instead of his target.

Speaks with Stone reacted by loosing a spell in a wide area that straddled the road. In this area, the grasses, roots and vines began to entangle the legs of the gnolls, much to their surprise. Unfortunately, Ilrath was unfamiliar with this type of magic and charged into the area to attack the gnolls. He rapidly became stuck.

The gnolls desperately tried to escape and failing that, threw their remaining javelins at the party. The grasping plants hindered their aim and none of the javelins struck the party. Gradually, over the next minute, the party was able to dispatch the group of gnolls with missile fire. One of the last gnolls standing sounded a long blast on a horn. Moments later, another horn blast answered the first.

The party could hear another party of gnolls approaching from the southeast. Ilrath encouraged them to follow him to take cover in the ruins of Aquae Sulis.


----------



## Rel (Sep 25, 2002)

On the Brink of Disaster

The party made their way through the ruins of Aquae Sulis and began the trek into the wilderness beyond. Now that they were not following an actual road, they hoped that it would be difficult for the gnolls to guess what direction they were headed. Krase decided to lag a goodly distance behind the group to stay alert to any pursuit by the gnolls as they continued walking into the night.

While it may have been a good idea in theory, in practice it turned out very poorly. Krase misjudged the exact direction the party was headed and lost their trail in the darkness. By itself this would have been an annoying delay. When the gnolls caught up with the rest of the party, it was nearly fatal.

With a howl of rage, four gnolls charged out of the darkness to engage the party. Ilrath quickly moved to cut them off and found himself faced with two of them. Another ran towards Speaks with Stone but was intercepted by Arc the wolf. Rhys cast his mystical armor spell again and loaded his crossbow.

Several hundred yards away, Krase heard what was happening and began running toward the sounds of combat as fast as possible.

The humans quickly found themselves at a big disadvantage in the darkness. They swung wildly and almost none of their attacks found their marks. The gnolls on the other hand seemed full of righteous vengeance for their slain comrades (I was just rolling amazingly well for the gnolls). Within moments Ilrath was flanked by the pair he fought and was knocked to the ground on the edge of unconsciousness (0 hp exactly). The others fared little better as first Arc and then Speaks were brought low by the axes of the gnolls.

During this time, Rhys had managed to kill one with his crossbow. But then the one who had just beaten Speaks was upon him and he found himself being forced ever backward in his attempts to hold him off (5ft. step, load, 5ft. step, shoot, repeat).

In the distance, Krase called out, "I'm coming!" and continued to run toward the fighting.

The other two gnolls noted that the third surviving gnoll had the archer well in hand and ran off to find the Ranger who was crashing toward them in the darkness.

Rhys fired again from point blank range and dealt a nasty wound to the gnoll that attacked him (bringing the gnoll to 1hp). The gnoll retreated as Rhys sighed with relief…until the gnoll stopped by the fallen form of Speaks with Stone and raised his axe. "Drop the bow or your friend dies!" growled the gnoll.

Knowing that he had only one shot, Rhys gave a quick prayer and let fly with his crossbow…and missed. With a bark of defiance, the gnoll brought down his axe to coup-de-grace the unconscious Druid…which provoked an attack from Ilrath who had managed to get to his feet and stagger over to the fallen Druid. Ilrath's greataxe brought the gnoll down with a sickening crunch before he himself toppled over, unconscious and bleeding.

Rhys ran to Speaks and administered the last of the healing potions that they were given by the Glynden Council. This brought Speaks to the bleary edge of consciousness (exactly 0hp). Speaks in turn used one of his minor curative magics to stabilize Ilrath and lapsed back into darkness. Rhys used what little knowledge of healing that he possessed and managed to get Speaks bandaged to the point of not dying. He then hurried to Speaks' fallen wolf friend to find him barely clinging to life (Arc stabilized on his own at -7).

Off in the woods, a new combat was beginning to unfold. Krase heard the approach of the gnolls and stopped running. He hid himself behind a pair of thick tree trunks (much better than outside the tower) and waited. When the gnolls passed near enough for him to see in the moonlight, he fired his bow, striking one down with a single arrow. The other stopped. When it heard the bow fired again, it ran back in the direction of the original fight, abandoning its fallen friend.

Krase pursued the final gnoll while trying to remain hidden. As it approached the site of the earlier battle, it called out, "Did you finish off that puny archer yet?". Rhys, who spoke some gnollish replied "Uh, yeah.", in a not very convincing tone. But it mattered not. Krase appeared behind the gnoll and shot it in the back, sending it into oblivion.

"Well it's about time you showed up!" said Rhys. Krase stepped out of the darkness to find Rhys the only one of his companions who was still standing.

NEXT: Turning the Tables


----------



## Rel (Sep 26, 2002)

Turning the Tables

As the dust settled from the fight, the party was in desperate need for rest and healing (they had a total of 4 hp between the five of them). Krase however, was absolutely certain () that they needed to press on as soon as possible to get away from the scene of the battle. The rested for three hours until Ilrath regained consciousness and then they continued staggering, zombielike to the west with Ilrath carrying the wolf.

A couple of hours later, unable to continue on, they collapsed and slept until midday. Speaks called upon the healing powers of nature and brought the party back from the brink of death but still far from healthy. The began to debate the idea of resting at that location for another day when they heard more gnollish horns in the distance. They judged that they were no more than half a day behind the party. With a sigh of resignation, they picked up their packs and began their westward journey once again.

As they walked, they spoke of wanting to do something to discourage the gnolls from following them further. They asked Ilrath if there were anywhere that they might ambush the gnolls along their path. He commented that there was a ridgeline where one of the Imperial Legions had held off an attack by the barbarians many years before that might be suitable. They made for the ridge with determination.

Once they located the ridgeline, they determined that it made a great ambush site - if the enemy was approaching from the west, which the gnolls were not. It was becoming obvious that Ilrath had no inkling of defensive strategy. But it was all they had, and they were still very tired so they decided that the boulder strewn ridgeline would be where they faced one of the gnoll patrols that pursued them.

As they waited, they could hear three distinct patrols following them. Each had a horn and they sounded two blasts of their horn hourly. It was decided that when they approached, they group would take down the horn blower first to prevent him from alerting the other patrols to their presence. They waited.

Near sundown the gnolls appeared over the next hilltop, obviously following the trail of the party. They moved as rapidly as possible while still keeping to the tracks. When they approached within 60 feet of the boulders, the party stood and let fly with arrows, bolts and stones. The horn blower was felled immediately and the battle was joined.

Two of the remaining gnolls ran to engage Krase and Rhys while the others went after Speaks and his wolf. As two of them crossed the ridge line, Ilrath sprang from behind his boulder and cut one nearly in half with his greataxe. The other was attacked by Arc and the longspear-wielding Druid. The second gnoll was immediately wounded by Speaks but did manage to land a blow against Arc with his battleaxe (poor Arc has been, by far, the biggest damage magnet in the party). Moments later, he was flanked by the barbarian and quickly put down like the dog that he resembled.

On the other side of the battlefield, Krase had dropped his bow in favor of the twin gladii that his grandfather had left him. He began to nick away at his opponent. Rhys was again reduced to the step-load-step-shoot routine that had served him adequately in the last battle (why the boy won't use a short bow is beyond me). In short order, Krase finished off his opponent and turned on the one fighting Rhys. A couple of short sword stabs and a crossbow bolt later and he was on the ground too.

The two remaining gnolls, wounded from missile fire early in the fight, fled the scene with tails between their legs. A couple of arrows were fired in their direction, but no pursuit was attempted. The party made a quick search of the gnolls belongings and then began heading west again, taking with them the horn.

A debate immediately began as to whether they should sound the horn twice, indicating that the patrol was fine but still searching or whether to not sound it at all. While they were still arguing about it, one of the other patrols sounded off. The other answered. And Krase blew the horn twice in response. They marched on.

NEXT: Desperate Flight for the Fodor


----------



## Rel (Sep 26, 2002)

Desperate Flight for the Fodor

A short while later, they stopped for the night. By then they figured that the two gnolls that escaped their ambush had found one of the other patrols and therefore the game was up. They didn't sound the horn again. In the morning, Speaks cast more of his healing magic and brought the party up to nearly full strength.

During the day, while they walked, they assessed their distance from the Fodor. They estimated that they were still around three days walk if they had no more run ins with the gnolls. They knew how hard they had been pushing themselves and how close to exhaustion they had been. They assumed that the gnolls must be in similar condition. They decided to make a forced march for the river, stopping for only a few hours here and there for rest.

They marched throughout the day and stopped for several hours when darkness fell (Note - this is the northlands in autumn. Darkness falls early and night is long.). In the middle of the night they started out again with the Druid in the lead. His affinity with nature was such that he could always find the easiest path, even in darkness. After a few more hours, they stopped in the pre-dawn darkness to rest a bit more. By the sounds of the horns in the distance, it seemed that the gnolls were still pursuing but were still nearly a day's travel behind them.

At dawn, they once again forged ahead. Near noontime, they stopped at a cluster of boulders to take a quick lunch of some of the last of their supplies. As they stood by the rocks, Rhys glanced over at the boulder near Krase. It blinked.

Rhys let out a cry but even as the words left his lips, a lanky humanoid shape that was all arms and legs shot out and grappled Krase, cutting his skin with bony protrusions on it's limbs as it attempted to encircle his neck. With apparent ice water flowing in his veins, Rhys raised his crossbow and shot the creature right through the head (Natural 20, confirmed critical, over 20 points of damage - Note - Rhys has Point Blank Shot and Precise Shot). Krase hastily unwrapped the thing from his torso and flung it to the ground, giving it a swift kick for good measure.

It turned out to be what was called a Choker in Imperial lands. Ilrath indicated that his people called them Rock Worms and complimented Rhys on killing such a swift and deadly creature. Rhys took but a moment to accept the compliment before he was hunting around for any treasure the creature might have (I swear, if he was any greedier I'd think he was a peck).

Rhys found a small hole at the base of the rocks. He wriggled inside and was able to locate a handful of coins and a pair of spiked gauntlets. He managed to get out of the hole without getting stuck but it was a close thing (GM Note - This was a total brain fart on the part of the player. He has the Mage Hand Cantrip but in never occurred to him to use it. Instead he risked being attacked if there had been another Choker down there and got very dirty. Getting attacked and getting dirty are two of the things his character hates most.)

Ilrath asked to look at the gauntlets and noted that they bore the forge mark of Wulfrax the smith, a Brigantes weapon maker of some renown. Rhys shrugged and put the gauntlets in his sack.

The group marched on through the afternoon. The fatigue was beginning to take its toll when they stopped at sundown. The whole group was tired but with the sounds of the gnolls horns far in the distance, they felt that their forced march was working. They agreed to rest for just a few hours and hike through the rest of the night. Ilrath indicated that they should reach the banks of the Fodor by morning.

And he was right. At mid morning the party broke through the treeline to find the impressive sight of the mighty Fodor before them (in my campaign this river is approximately the size of the Mississippi - that's roughly a mile across [or 1.6 kilometers] for those of you from outside the States). Ilrath took a moment to get his bearings and said that they should head north a bit to where he left his canoe.

A bit later, from the vantage atop the riverbank, Ilrath spotted the cluster of willows where he had camouflaged his small boat. This clump of trees was just over a hundred feet from the riverbank across a grassy mud flat (being fall, the river was considerably below its springtime levels when the snow melts from the surrounding mountain chains). Fishing in the waters near the shady roots of the trees was a large brown bear.

"This is all you, nature boy." Said Krase, giving Speaks with Stone a slight shove in the right direction.

Speaks gave Krase a slight glare at his impious reference to the beautiful crafting of the earth mother. Nonetheless, he agreed that this situation was "all him". He gave orders for Arc to guard Rhys (Arc doesn't seem to comprehend the "stay" command very well) and headed out across the mud flat. The rest of the group moved upstream to put the clump of trees between themselves and the bear.

Speaks approached the bear slowly (not that he had a lot of other options with the mud sucking at his boots) and with care. As he got closer, he discovered how large this bear really was. Far bigger than the black bears that roamed the forests near Glynden. The bear swatted a fish out of the water that landed twitching and bloody on the riverbank. The bear eyed Speaks suspiciously as though he might try to steal his catch.

Speaks calmly emoted that he wished no harm to the bear and made his way toward the cluster of willows. The bear watched but didn't move toward him.

Once among the willows, Speaks quickly located the canoe that was overturned and tied to the trees. He untied it and with some effort turned it over. It was a dugout and very heavy. Beneath it he found a pair of paddles. With some effort, and having to put his feet in the icy waters of the Fodor, he got the boat in the water. He climbed in and paddled upstream a short distance to where the rest of the party waited. He couldn't help but notice that the canoe rode quite low in the water.

Just about the time the group was reunited, they heard the horn of the gnolls in the distance. They estimated them to be around a day's travel behind them. Plenty of time. Or so they thought.

Ilrath explained that the boat could only carry two people at a time because more weight than that would swamp the boat. It took roughly an hour to paddle across the Fodor. Doing some quick math, Rhys declared that there was no problem: It would take only five hours to transport the four of them. "But there are five of us." Said Speaks and all eyes turned toward Arc. That would mean seven hours - cutting it awfully close to when the gnolls would arrive.

There was some talk about trying to stand and fight the gnolls again like they did on the ridge. Ultimately they decided that even gnolls were not dumb enough to attack in such small numbers again. This time would be the bulk of their group. They must try to make it across the river or resign themselves to the fact that they may die fighting the gnolls.

Ilrath offered to stay behind to hold the gnolls off while the rest of the group paddled to safety. This idea was vetoed for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that Ilrath was the most adept at paddling the canoe. In a moment of un-barbarianlike clarity, Ilrath came up with a plan. He ordered Rhys into the boat while explaining that they could make it in fewer trips if they left most of their gear on the far bank.

He and Rhys took off across the river while Speaks, Krase and Arc began walking down stream so that Ilrath wouldn't have to waste effort correcting for the current. When Ilrath arrived with Rhys on the far bank, he removed everything but his clothing and gave it to Rhys. He then returned to the eastern bank of the river where he loaded Krase aboard along with almost all of the gear Speaks carried. With Krase paddling too, they made good time to the western bank where Krase was dropped off along with Speaks' possessions. Once again, Ilrath returned to the eastern bank.

What the party hadn’t counted on was that by walking downstream, they were backtracking and moving in the direction of their original trail, which the gnolls were following. As the canoe came to rest on the eastern shore, the gnolls emerged from the trees on the riverbank, some 150 feet away. Neither Ilrath nor Speaks were armed or armored.

Speaks urged Arc into the canoe and calmed him as much as possible as Ilrath pushed them off the mud flat and into the river. A score of gnolls were attempting to run across the flat as fast as possible but the mud slowed their progress to a crawl. In desperation they threw a few javelins which landed harmlessly in the water. Moments later the canoe was safely out in the river and the gnolls could only shake their furry fists in frustration.

It took all of Ilrath's skill at boat handling (which wasn't nearly as much as the rest of the party seemed to think) to keep the boat from swamping with such a heavy load. Fortunately, Speaks was able to keep Arc calm the entire trip and they paddled their way to safety on the western side of the Fodor.

NEXT: Arrival in the Lands of the Coritani


----------



## Rel (Sep 26, 2002)

Arrival in the Lands of the Coritani

The party spent the night camping on the bank of the river having a fire and a hot meal for the first time in what seemed like forever. It was also a time for them to pat each other on the back a bit for handling themselves well under pressure. For the first time, Ilrath began to feel like part of the group instead of an outsider whom they were all very suspicious of.

During this time, Ilrath explained a bit about the inter-tribal politics they will encounter upon arriving in Rilaga, the village where Hrongar is holding his counsel of war. Part of this explanation involves the leadership and different "totem spirits" worshipped by each tribe.

The Brigantes have the bear as their totem. They have always some of the most powerful heroes and carry a great deal of respect. Their current leader, Urdrax, has seen some of his most mighty warriors fall before the might of the orcish horde. He is in agreement with Hrongar that the tribes should fight together and seek aid from the "Imperials". It is also noted that Urdrax has an affinity for dwarves. All the tales he has heard indicate that they are the mightiest of warriors and he knows that some of them dwell in Glynden. He is anxious to involve them in the fighting if at all possible.

The Nervii have the wolf as their totem. They live on the northern edge of the barbarian lands and have suffered most harshly from the horde. Their leader, Canjarl, has stayed behind with his warriors instead of coming to the counsel of war. His underchief, Wamic, is representing the tribe at the council being held. He was supportive of seeking aid from Glynden.

The Suevi have the mountain lion as their totem. Their chief, Relmar, is young and brash. He saw no need to involve the outlanders at all. He believes that the horde will fall apart on it's own if the tribes can just hold them off until spring. Ilrath has dim hopes that Relmar will be persuaded to make a pact not to raid across the Fodor anymore.

The Allmani have the hawk as their totem. Because they are the most nomadic of the tribes and the large lands they roam are nearest to the Blackpeak Mountains, they are well informed of the movements and size of the horde. They are represented at the council by Seshmarl, son of the chief. He has been trying to quickly organize the tribes and to involve the outlanders. Seshmarl and Relmar have nearly come to blows several times over the issue.

The Coritani have no totem. Their tattoos bear the sign for freedom (This is because their tribe was formed from a collection of random slaves, who escaped from the Empire during the civil war that started it on its downward slide. They worship their ancestors but respect the totem worship of the other tribes from which their ancestors descended). For the last generation, they have been the dominant tribe in the Western Wilds. They have more warriors than any of the other tribes (Ilrath fails to remind the party that this is principally due to spoils they have gained by raiding the various Imperial towns in the Northern Provinces since the withdrawal of the Legions).

The current situation has put the Coritani in an even stronger position of power as the other tribes attempt to sway them to help protect their lands. But Hrongar knows from his experience of raiding across the Fodor that fighting a defensive battle is far different from the raiding that the tribes are used to. He has only encountered one enemy that stood against him time after time: Glynden.

The next morning they begin to move inland and slightly northwards toward Rilaga. As they travel, they pass through a Coritani fishing village near the river. The village consists of just a few straw and mud huts. There are no men of fighting age in the village. A group of women and old men are patching the roof of one of the huts.

Ilrath goes over and speaks with this group of people and find out about current events. The rest of the party stands there observing how pathetic the village seems and, for the first time, note the fact that none of them actually speak the language of the barbarian tribes (Fodoran). It begins to dawn on them that this rather hampers their ability to open a dialogue with the tribes and will certainly make it tough to determine if a barbarian backstab is going on. They wallow uncomfortably in their idiocy while Ilrath speaks to the villagers.

He returns to the group and they resume their march toward Rilaga. As they go, he relates that all the warriors have been called to service to help hold off the orcs. The villagers have heard tales of the orcs attacking the Nervii in the north and that the Coritani and Brigantes have banded together. They have no information about the involvement of the other tribes.

They walk through the afternoon and are assured by Ilrath that if they press on just a bit after darkness they will reach Rilaga. Having become quite used to travelling at night, they do so.

They hear the camp long before they see it. There are sounds of drums and voices raised in songs of battle (not that the characters know they are songs of battle since they don't speak the language - dumbasses). The first arrive at a large tent-city at the edge of the village. It appears that the bulk of the Coritani warriors are gathered in Rilaga and that there are representatives from the other tribes as well.

They make their way toward the ale hall in the center of the village where Hrongar is no doubt holding council with the other chieftains. On their way they draw many stares from the various barbarian warriors gathered around the many cookfires scattered throughout the village. As they near the ale hall, which is the most impressive bit of Coritani architecture they've yet seen, Arc bounds away from Speaks side and runs toward the lanky form of one of the barbarians. This particular warrior has long dark hair worn in a braid and sports many tattoos and lots of silver jewelry in the form of bracelets, anklets and a large torc.

Arc crouched low and began to growl at this man while Speaks ran over to protect Arc or the warrior, whoever seemed to need it most. The warrior growled at Arc in return and the two of them circle each other, Arc with his hackles raised and the barbarian with the muscles in his shoulders bunching. They seem locked in some sort of primal stare and just as Speaks is about to break things up, Arc emits a short whimper and lurks back to his side.

The warrior turns to Speaks and asks in heavily accented Imperial if the wolf is his companion. Speaks replied that he was and demanded to know what that was all about. The barbarian told him that they were just sorting out whose territory they were in. Speaks gave him a curious stare at this comment but turned around and followed the others into the ale hall.

Inside the lodge it was smoky and dim with the light coming from several braziers set along the walls. Ilrath escorted the party to the back of the single room building where the head table was raised on a wooden platform above the rest of the room. At the table sat a collection of barbarians, young and old whom the party assumed must be the various tribal chieftains.

The first to greet them was the aging but still hearty Hrongar. He rose to his feet and clasped forearms with Ilrath, giving him a clap of greeting on the shoulder that could have knocked a lesser man off his feet. They spoke briefly in Fodoran before Hrongar greeted the rest of the party in heavily accented Imperial and invited them to sit at his table.

He introduced the others at the table who included all of the other tribal representatives except for Relmar. It also turned out that the barbarian who Arc had the confrontation with outside was none other than Wamic, representative of the Nervii who was just sitting down at the table.

Hrongar immediately began to ask the party about how his offer was received in Glynden and what sort of an army they were planning on bringing with them. The group hemed and hawed for a few moments before admitting that Glynden would be sending approximately 50 men to aid them and that it would be another two weeks before they arrived. In view of the couple of hundred barbarian warriors gathered at Rilaga, that seemed a pitifully small number. But Hrongar, ever the savvy leader, reminded the other chieftains that the important fact was that the folk of Glynden knew much about building defensive fortifications than the barbarians did.

He turned back to the party to ask if any of them were specifically trained in the creation of such defenses.

*party glances back and forth at each other for an uncomfortably long time*

"Um, actually, not so much."

Hrongar came close to losing his temper but restrained himself and asked what precisely was the purpose of the party's journey to his lands.

They replied that they were there to negotiate the treaty with the various tribal chieftains and to determine in what ways the folk of Glynden could aid the tribes in their struggle against the orcs. Hrongar was clearly disappointed but decided that the hour was growing late and many of the heads present were clouded by ale. The decision was made to gather back in the ale hall in the morning to talk about the war effort.

NEXT: Diplomats or Just Dips?


----------



## Rel (May 20, 2003)

After spending the night on cots and getting a couple good meals in their bellies, the party felt better than they had in days. Ilrath told the others that he would see them later as he needed to try to find news of his brothers and was not part of the negotiations in any event. He wished the others luck and left the hut. 

The remainder of the group made their way to the ale hall where most of the chieftains had gathered around one of the table. Relmar was still absent but gathered at one end of the table were three shamans from the various tribes whom the party had not met yet. Hrongar introduces them as Krusk, shaman of the Coritani, Orthula, shaman of the Suevi (who is also a rather attractive young woman whom Krase immediately begins to make passes at with approximately the sophistication of "hubba-hubba") and Uthrus, shaman of the Allmani.

A few minutes later, Relmar came strolling into the hall and took a seat across from Speaks with Stone. With all interested parties present, Hrongar made a few additional introductions and the negotiations got underway.

Note: At this time, none of the party yet speak the language of the barbarians and only a few of the barbarians present spoke Imperial. A lot of whispering was going on to describe what was being said on both sides.

Hrongar opened with a brief speech about how the people of the Fodor and the people of Glynden had struggled against one another for too long. He regretted that it took an invasion by the orcs to bring them to the peace table but that he hoped that a long and friendly relationship would develop as result. During this speech, the party glanced at one another to assure that they all felt that this was a fairly considerable pile of sheep dung.

Nonetheless, they thanked Hrongar for his words and began to solicit the promises of the other tribes to cease any raiding of the lands east of the Fodor in exchange for aid against the orcs from Glynden.

Urdrax of the Brigantes was clearly ready to make such an agreement subject to a few minor conditions. He had heard many tales from his father about the combat prowess and steadfast nature of the dwarves. He knew that there were dwarves that lived in Glynden and wished them to be part of the battle against the orcs. He also knew of a group of dwarves who were rumored to live north of the Nervii lands and he wanted the party to aid in trying to bring them into the alliance as well.

The party quickly agreed to these conditions and Urdrax pledged that his people would ever after respect the boundary of the Fodor River.

Seshmarl of the Allmani was also ready to make such a pledge. He made no lengthy speeches and no demands before offering his bond. Of course, although it wasn’t spoken, everybody present knew that the Allmani had almost never raided across the Fodor anyway. So they really weren't giving up much.

Then Wamic of the Nervii spoke up. Being one of the few barbarians who could speak Imperial, he addressed the party directly. His concern was that the warriors of Glynden would not be willing to stand and fight before the might of the horde. Knowing that they were not fighting for their home soil and that they were defending the lands of their historic enemies, they would put up a token defense at best.

Rhys (who was acting as spokesman for the party) assured him that Glynden had a well trained and well disciplined fighting force. He could not directly speak for them since he was not their commander but he maintained that if they were given the word, they would fight to the best of their ability. Then (in a very bold move that could easily have had disastrous results) he mentioned that the leader of their forces was none other than Kyndalyn the Younger, son of Kyndalyn the Fair and nephew to Farinmail the Sorcerer.

There was a collective gasp around the table at the mention of these names. Rhys went on to remind them that Kyndalyn the Fair and his brother, along with their score of staghounds, had killed nearly a hundred Coritani raiders outside the gates of Glynden a generation ago. He assured them that those who fought for Glynden now would fight just as bravely. This drew many wide eyed stares from those seated at the table (including Speaks and Krase) who wondered if Wamic or even Hrongar would rise and slay this puny villager for reminding them of their greatest defeat.

Instead, Wamic smiled and lauded the bravery of those warriors of past years. He said that if the son of Kyndalyn the Fair led the warriors of Glynden and if he would personally pledge their willingness to stand and fight that he would agree to the pact not to raid across the Fodor. Although Rhys wished to secure that pledge in advance of the arrival of the Glynden troops, he decided that this agreement was good enough for him.

Finally, Relmar of the Suevi spoke up and his words were translated for the party. He did not call into question the bravery of Kyndalyn the Fair or Farinmail the Sorcerer but he did doubt the fortitude of the folk of Glynden. He knew all too well how many towns had fallen among the northern provinces since the time of Kyndalyn the Fair. He challenged any of the party members to fight him to prove that the people of Glynden were not the soft weaklings he suspected they were.

Krase was instantly ready to take up this challenge and rose to his feet. But Seshmarl stepped in quickly and demanded to take up the challenge against Relmar as champion for the party from Glynden. Rhys and Speaks were giving Krase the stink eye because they were fairly sure that Relmar would completely mop the floor with him and they were not there to fight in any event. Then the lot of them were shouted down by Hrongar.

Hrongar told Relmar in no uncertain terms that no such duel would take place in his lands. By the custom of their people, any tribesman could challenge any other to single combat. But he was quick to remind Relmar that the party from Glynden were not tribesmen. He could not, by tradition, disallow a challenge to be made against Seshmarl but he asked them to consider the consequences. If Seshmarl won, the Suevi would have lost their second chief in less than a year. If Relmar won, the Allmani would lose the son of their chieftain. In either event, there would be bad blood between the tribes and that was the worst thing that could happen in this time of crisis.

It was decided that any challenge between Relmar and Seshmarl would wait until after the conflict with the orcs was resolved. With that, Relmar stalked out of the negotiations, not having agreed to the pact. Hrongar decided that it would be best to break and seek some food and fresh air before continuing the talks. The party left to find some lunch and to try to form a strategy for the rest of the negotiations.

NEXT: Revelations and Preparations


----------



## Rel (May 20, 2003)

As the group exited the ale hall and began to spread out, Speaks with Stone stopped Wamic to ask him some questions. During their brief conversation he was able to gather more information about the orcish invasion than the party had discovered during the entire first half of the negotiations. The salient points included the following:

The combined forces of the barbarian tribes boast somewhere around 450 warriors.

The orcs number somewhere around 1,200.

The orcs seem to be largely immune from the effects of cold weather and although they suffer penalties in direct sunlight, that won't be a problem for them from the time of the first snowfalls (a few weeks away at most) until spring.

The orcs also don't have a problem with supply lines because they have been eating any barbarians (including women, children and elderly) who they've killed during their raids.

The totem spirits that the various tribes worship provide them with certain powers so long as they are within the lands sacred to that particular totem.

There is a lot of political wrangling going on as to where the tribes should fight the orcs since everybody wants to be on their home turf to gain the benefits provided by their totem spirits.

The Coritani have risen greatly in power because they have a lot of warriors and since they have no totem spirit of their own, they can fight equally well anywhere. Most of the other tribes are trying to get Hrongar to agree to send his warriors to defend their lands.

Armed with this newfound wealth of information, Speaks hurried off to catch up with Rhys and Krase. But before he made it ten steps, the lovely Orthula intercepted him. She told him that tales of his magic had spread to the tribal shamans and they would like to talk to him about them. She asked him to meet with them that afternoon after the talks. She also said that as the head shaman for the Suevi, she would try to get Relmar to see the importance of making peace with the Imperials. But she acknowledged that he is trying to prove himself to be as great a leader as his father and could be very stubborn and arrogant at times.

Speaks finally caught up with Rhys and Krase and delivered the bounty of information he had discovered. They were chagrinned at the news and were a bit worried about what the people of Glynden were signing on for. If the orcs outnumbered the barbarians by nearly 3 to 1, they would need a miracle to make it through this without becoming a culinary delight for the orcs. They did consider that if they have enough time that some relatively decent fortifications could be erected that might give them enough of an advantage. Still, their hopes were not high.

They soon returned to the negotiating table to find that Relmar would not be rejoining them. This surprised no one and displeased them even less. Having resolved (mostly) the fact that the barbarians would sign a pact indicating that they would no longer attack any of the settlements across the Fodor River, talk turned to what the party and the barbarians should be doing in the immediate future.

Although nobody in the party had any precise knowledge of engineering or defensive construction, they were certain of the fact that the barbarians should begin cutting lots of logs for use in constructing these things when the forces from Glynden arrived. There would certainly be those among Kyndalyn's men who would know a great deal about earthworks and palisades and it would be best if the barbarians had a site and materials ready to go when they got there.

Hrongar told them that they would try to decide as soon as possible where to erect these defenses. He then informed the party that he had a mission for them that would fulfill their promise to Urdrax.

Barbarian legends held that to the north, beyond the lands of the Nervii, lived a group of dwarves who had, in ages past, forged weapons that would slay orcs with the greatest of ease. Unfortunately, most of these weapons had been lost over the years because their owners would tend to head off into the Blackpeaks seeking orcs to slay. And sooner or later they would not return from one of these trips, presumably having been killed in battle with the orcs or another of the denizens of the mountains.

Having some of these weapons would undoubtedly help the war effort. More importantly though was the prospect of recruiting the dwarves themselves to aid the tribes in battling the orcs. If the orcs were forced to defend against the dwarves from the north and the barbarians in the south, they would have to split their forces and would be more easily defeated.

Since the party is obviously so skilled in diplomacy ( Hey, at least they SPEAK dwarven!) Hrongar wants them to journey to where the dwarves live and seek their aid in the struggle against the orcs. Ilrath would accompany them to act as a guide and to represent the barbarians in any negotiations with the dwarves assuming that they would require payment for the orc-slaying weapons.

Rhys asked Hrongar where exactly the dwarves lived in the northlands. Hrongar explained that while he had never been there himself, it was reportedly easy to find. The dwarves dwelled in a mountain that stood all alone in a snowy plain. They called it the "Stone Tooth".

NEXT: New Companions and New Directions


----------



## Rel (May 20, 2003)

NEXT: New Companions and New Directions

*In this section, I'll include the write-ups that I handed each player before the session to provide the exposition of what happened in the couple days following the negotiations with the tribal chieftains. I should also note that I forgot to mention earlier that Rhys used the two identify scrolls that he found in the wizard's tower to ID the wand and candle they also found there. The wand was a Wand of Detect Magic (with about 8 charges) and the candle was a unique magic item. It could be used a total of 12 times to produce either of two effects, both of which required 8 hours of uninterrupted meditation (if the meditation was interrupted, the charge was lost but no effects were produced). The effects were (1) Identify cast at caster level 3 (up to 3 items could be ID'd per use) or (2) All spells prepared for the day received the benefit of the Extend Spell metamagic feat. The trick with the candle was that only Rhys could use effect #1 because Identify wasn't on Speaks' spell list and only Speaks could use effect #2 because Rhys was a sorcerer and didn't prepare spells.*

Info for Speaks With Stone

The afternoon after the negotiations have concluded, the shamans who are present in the village ask to meet with you. You withdraw some distance from the village and rather abruptly the group of them sit down on the ground in a circle. For a while, nobody speaks and Krusk, shaman of the Coritani passes a pipe around. Eventually, Uthrus begins to ask you a number of questions concerning your beliefs and practices.

When they learn that you are trying to protect as much of the wilds from incursions by the Imperials, they seem surprised and pleased. They speak some of what their customs entail (most of which you have already learned from Wamic). Talk then turns to magic.

They have heard tales of the things you are capable of and wish to learn some of your magic. They ask if you are willing to teach them the secret of the "grasping roots" that they have heard about through Ilrath. (I assume that you are willing, based on our earlier conversations. However, if I recall correctly, you didn’t have it prepared for that day.) You explain the idea behind the spell, which they seem to grasp readily enough. You promise to provide a demonstration on the following day.

Uthrus offers to teach you some magic in return. He has noticed that none in your group can speak the barbarian tongue. He says that his people have a way to draw upon the wisdom of their ancestors who have spoken many tongues over the years. When the proper invocations are said, you can hear the voices of the ancestors speak words you understand, even when someone is saying them in an unfamiliar language. He and the other shamans will teach you these invocations in exchange for your teachings about the "grasping roots". (In effect, you can add the Comprehend Languages spell to your available spells to prepare. But, due to the source of the spell, you can only understand the spoken word and it only functions in the lands of the barbarian ancestors. You have no idea how far those lands extend. But the shamans can assure you that they range at least as far north as the Stone Tooth and at least as far east as Glynden.)

While they teach you the way to call upon their ancestors, you talk of other things. They learn of your fondness for brewing. They explain that they too enjoy a good beer at times. They also talk about the ways that they can imbue some of their drinks with magic. You say that this is a practice that is common among the druid order you come from and that although you are interested in it, you have never done it. They agree to show you the ways of magical brewing in the hopes that you will come back and teach them more of your magic after you return from the dwarven mountain.

With that, you part for the evening and walk back to Rilaga. There, Hrongar speaks to the gathered warriors about the agreements that have been struck with you and the others from Glynden. He speaks about your journey to bring the dwarves into the battle on the side of the barbarians (this especially excites the Brigantes). All of the other chiefs who have signed the "treaty" make speeches too. There is much drinking of beer and banging of swords and axes on shields. All in all, more people and hoopla than you are comfortable with. You depart the village, seeking solace in the woodland night.

As you depart the firelight, a hand grips your arm and you turn to see Orthula’s face in the moonlight. Wordlessly, she leads you deeper into the woods. Eventually you are far enough from the village and close enough to a stream that the sound of the water drowns out the sounds of the celebration. There on the bank of the stream she offers herself to you.

(If you choose not to accept her offer, skip the next paragraph. Oh hell, read it anyway. You might as well at least know what you’re missing. Either way, just look over at me and shake your head yes or no so I know your answer.) *He went for it!*

(I figured you’d go for it) Having never known the touch of a "civilized" woman, many of Orthula’s ways of lovemaking are unshocking. But when she is fully taken in the moment, her…ferocity is such that you are briefly reminded of your encounter with the Wood Wife many years ago *GM Note - This was an event described in the character's background where he was tricked into losing his virginity with a woodland spirit*. Afterwards, you lie together wrapped in her heavy fur cloak. You sting from the welts and cuts left from her teeth and nails but you sleep a peaceful and exhausted sleep that has not been yours in quite some time. Here in this untamed land, lying in the arms of a clearly untamed woman, you almost, almost feel at home. It is only in the dark hours of the morning that you wake alone and cold. But your shaking is not from the cold. It is from the dream that awakened you. A dream where blackened tongues raised inhuman howls to the sky and dark figures danced in the light of giant bonfires that boiled huge iron kettles.

In the next couple of days, you spend nearly all of your time in the woods away from Rilaga teaching and learning. Despite your earlier encounter, Orthula is civil but hardly flirtatious. You learn a great deal about the ancestral hero worship of the barbarians and the totem spirits that their heroes embody. As the time draws near for you to depart for the Stone Tooth, Orthula visits you again. Again there are no words exchanged but this time she leaves you with a pouch containing the herbs necessary for brewing your own magical potions (200gp worth).

As you depart for the north, you cannot say that your spirit is at rest. In the distance, dozens of axes can be heard, biting the forest as the barbarians prepare the poles for their palisade. Whether the trees of this largely virgin forest are destined for barbarian fortresses or Orcish bonfires you cannot say. But the bitter wind whispers in your ears that this land will never be the same.

Info for Krase

You spend most of the next three days and nights in the almost constant company of Ilrath. He is able to serve as translator for you in trying to get the other tribesmen to understand your instructions about building fortifications.

At times you find yourself pausing to reflect on how much you distrusted Ilrath when you first met him. Your grandfather would never have believed your story had you told him that someday you would be companion to a barbarian. Had you told him that the folk of Glynden would be fighting a war on the same side as the barbarians, he would have beaten you for drinking all of grandfather Wakenzaki’s beer. *GM Note - An old dwarven friend of Krase's grandfather was a close friend to the family and helped raise Krase. The dwarf bore the rather odd name of Wakenzaki and was renowned for his excellent beer*.

But here you are, trying to get the barbarians to understand how to build a fortress. Never before has such a sharp line been drawn between your grandfather’s generation and yours.

In your spare moments, you teach what you can remember of the fighting techniques that Wakenzaki taught, should you ever meet an Orc. It isn’t much, but it keeps your hands busy. Hands that would far rather be plunging one of your gladii into the belly of the Gnolls left on the homeward shore of the Fodor. You will return to deal with them soon enough. For now the Orcs will have to do.

Not soon enough, you find your friends, including Ilrath, and yourself with your feet on a path to the north. The day is clear and cold. Behind you as well as eastward are those who depend on you to do your duty. Before you are allies to be made and enemies to be slain. You can’t think of a better way to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

Info for Rhys

With Speaks With Stone occupied talking to the tribal shamans and Krase and Ilrath spending all day talking to the other barbarians about palisades and fortifications, you find yourself at loose ends. To be certain, you feel a sense of accomplishment at having secured the oaths of three of the tribes who wish the aid of the forces of Glynden. You look forward to locating and negotiating with the dwarves of the Stone Tooth where warm hearths are sure to be in greater abundance. But for now, you are somewhat bored and frustrated.

There are a few girls about and it is clear that they are curious to get a look at the outlanders (no doubt especially the one who moves with the grace of a cat but speaks with a tongue of silver). But your lack of understanding of their language provides a barrier to any meaningful conversations. And any hopes of communicating in the "universal language" are quickly dampened by the presence of a couple hundred uncivilized berserker warriors who all seem to have been born with an axe in their hands and a chip on their shoulders.

For the first time you can recall in a long while, you are alone and have nobody to talk to.

Your thoughts turn to the arcane ritual that you spoke about with Speaks With Stone. *GM Note - Rhys had just leveled to 2nd and was now a full fledged Sorcerer (instead of a 0/0 apprentice level Rogue/Sorcerer) and as such wanted to summon a familiar which would require 100gp worth of materials and a full day ritual*. In the morning, you see him wandering into the village with a confused and concerned look on his face. His back is probably killing him from sleeping on a bunch of tree roots somewhere since he certainly wasn’t in his bunk last night. No matter. After a brief conversation with him, he directs you to speak with Krusk, shaman of the Coritani.

Krusk seems anxious to return to whatever Speaks and the other shamans are doing, but he listens to your request for the ingredients required for the ritual. He tells you that the herbs, incense and candle necessary are rare and hard to find. He asks if you have anything in trade.

Casting about on your person for anything of value, you come upon the pair of spiked gauntlets that have been tangled in the bottom of your pack these last few days. (If you don’t want to trade the gauntlets, you don’t have to. But you will need to provide something of approximately 100gp value to give for the ingredients. If you decide not to trade the gauntlets, just let me know and skip the next paragraph). *He opted to trade the gauntlets*

Krusk examines the gauntlets and notes the smith mark on them. He tells you that he cannot trade the ingredients for the gauntlets because it would not be fair to you. He then asks you to wait. He leaves and returns in a few minutes. In exchange for the gauntlets, he offers you the ingredients you request as well as a "magic writing" that was captured on one of the many raids against the people of the northland villages. The "magic writing" is a scroll that includes the spells Detect Undead, Grease and Levitate on it. You accept.

You stash the scroll in your gear and gather a few items from your spartan quarters including one of the smaller braziers, some unburned coals and a hunk of fresh venison. You then seek an area outside the village that isn’t occupied by barbarians felling trees at the direction of Krase and Ilrath. Although you had to walk more than a mile, you manage to locate a clearing, free of any distractions and with grass thick enough to provide a comfortable seat. You begin your ritual.

You carefully crumble the herbs into a coarse powder and then walk the perimeter of the clearing, sprinkling them as you go. Returning to the middle of the clearing, you sit in the middle for a time and go through the process of relaxing each muscle in your body until you are almost in a trance. With your body relaxed, your mind has no choice but to follow. You then begin to place the coals in the brazier, one at a time, holding each one for a moment, feeling its shape and texture. With the coals in the brazier, you place the incense among it and ignite the candle and in turn use the candle to light the coals. The scent of the incense, pleasantly sweet, reaches your nostrils. You close your eyes.

After an indeterminate time you reopen your eyes to find the coals glowing a uniform orange. You stare into the coals, timing your breathing and begin to feel words building behind your lips. You accept them as they come and begin to chant. As each word comes forth, you do more than speak it, you cast it far out into the wilds.

Finally the stream of words dries up and exhausted, you rest. When you feel that you can stand, you rise to your feet and walk to the edge of the clearing and place the venison on the ground. You return to where you sat, legs feeling like lead and sit again. Now you wait.

Sometime later, a rustling in the leaves at the edge of the clearing causes your eyes to slowly open. A small slender form perches by the venison and watches you. As you gaze on, it takes a small bite of the venison. It appears to be a weasel or civet of largish size and female. It takes another bite of the venison.

Presently, you "feel" rather than hear, "What is it you want?"

"I want your companionship," you reply.

"And what do you offer in return?"

"I offer long life and fresh red meat without struggle. And I offer my friendship."

"And what do you ask in return?"

"I ask for aid in my endeavors, such as are in your power. I will ask for wisdom, and I will ask for your friendship."

The weasel pauses to consider and takes the opportunity to tear another shred from the venison. Then, "Done."

A smile comes to your face for the first time in hours. You reach out on the link you’ve established. "Thank you. I swear that you will be my dearest companion and I will never put your life in danger."

In reply, the weasel sends, "I am a trickster, just as you are. Your hollow words do not offend me, but neither do I believe them. For such as we, seldom will be the nights when we are not in danger. Nevertheless, I swear to be your dearest companion and to aid you in your hunt."

"But I am not a hunter."

"You will be."
_

The following day passes quickly for you as you begin to grow used to the new presence in your mind. You decide on a name for your friend *He ultimately decided on Tavis* and begin to consider what it will be like to have someone to whom you can never lie be your constant companion. You find your spirits high as your companions and you put your feet on the road to the north. Regardless of what dangers lie ahead, you know that you will never be alone again. And you suspect that it won’t be long before you will wish you were bored again. 

*GM Note - I stole a lot of the familiar summoning ritual from the book Jhereg by Stephen Brust. If you haven't read it, you should.*

NEXT: A Momentary Lapse of Reason


----------



## Rel (May 20, 2003)

The party made their way northward out of the lands of the Coritani and into the lands of the Brigantes. They passed near a few small villages along the way and occasionally stopped to re-supply with smoked meat and barley cakes that the villagers were stocking away for winter. Ilrath also occasionally made a brief side trip to gather any news from the villages they passed near. During one of these trips, the rest of the party decided to seize upon the opportunity to have a particularly stupid argument.

It had now been twelve days since they had left Glynden and (presumably) whatever forces Kyndalyn had managed to prepare for the journey would be leaving to head for the Fodor soon. The party had still not used the bird feather token given to them by Uncle Claudius to send a message back to the village in order to update them on what the party had discovered in the barbarian lands.

Speaks with Stone commented that it would be best if they sent the message as soon as possible so that any special equipment or people who needed to be brought in order to erect fortifications in the barbarian lands could be gathered for the ten day journey. After all, he contended, they knew that the Brigantes specifically wanted any dwarves from Glynden to participate and they would probably be among those who knew most about building defensive fortifications.

Rhys and Krase on the other hand were not quite satisfied that they could totally trust the barbarians. After all, they said, the party hadn't actually seen a single orc yet. They mentioned that part of their mission was to determine how big a threat the orcs were.

Speaks brought up the fact that the number had been reported at around 1,200.

Krase argued that the barbarians could have made up that number and the actual number could be larger or smaller.

Speaks argued in return that if the number was smaller, it made absolutely no sense to inflate it. And if the number was larger, why not report that the orcs only numbered a few hundred to make it more likely that the forces of Glynden would sign on.

Neither Krase nor Rhys had an answer to that but both said they would feel more comfortable if they had actually seen an orc before they sent the message.

Speaks pointed out that they were still several days from the Nervii lands and it was very unlikely that they would see an orc in the next couple of days. If they waited longer than that, they would be past the date that Kyndalyn was supposed to have left Glynden. That meant that Kyndalyn would either be waiting to leave until he got their message, wasting valuable days. Or Kyndalyn would have already left town when he got the message and might have to waste twice as many days going back to town to retrieve any supplies or people necessary for defending the barbarian lands.

Krase stated that it was likely that Kyndalyn would be delayed from leaving town because "many" of the council were against the whole operation and would do whatever they could to slow things down. *A fine bit of revisionist history if ever I saw one*.

In the end, Speaks was outvoted and Krase and Rhys decided to wait another two days (thus bringing them to exactly 14 days after they left town which was the approximate time Kyndalyn said it would take to ready the men to march).

Speaks pointed out that it was highly unlikely that they would see an orc in the next two days and further asked if the bird summoned by the feather token was supposed to teleport back to town or if some amount of travel time would be involved.

Krase and Rhys considered this briefly but, never ones to let reason stand in the way of rigid planning stuck to their guns.

Two days later they still hadn't seen any orcs and the message was sent updating Kyndalyn as to the results of the negotiations and the "reported" numbers of orcs and barbarians. They also requested that they bring whatever materials and people would be necessary for constructing fortifications. With a good deal of eye rolling from Speaks with Stone, the bird was conjured and let fly with no more information than they possessed two days before.

NEXT: A Not-So-Chance Encounter


----------



## Rel (May 20, 2003)

A couple more days passed and they found themselves well inside the lands of the Nervii. Most of the villages they encountered were abandoned and they spotted several groups of refugees who were headed southwards. Not a single dead body was spotted in any of the villages they passed. Nor were there any freshly dug graves. These sights caused the party to look at each other with resignation.

As they made camp one evening a raven was spotted in a tree nearby. Speaks with Stone had been seeking an owl whom he might befriend in order to gain some information about the area. He supposed that a raven would do. He cast a spell of animal friendship on the bird but it took flight, apparently having resisted the spell. Speaks shook his head in frustration and took his turn at watch.

The next day, they spotted another raven perched on a branch that took flight as they drew near. Krase was becoming a bit worried by this phenomenon but was assured by the others in the party that such birds were common anywhere there had been battle. They continued on their way.

That afternoon they crossed into a glacial valley that was broad and flat and strewn with huge boulders. Far off in the distance they could see the upthrust spire of must be The Stone Tooth. They guessed it to be around two days distant.

As they made their way among the boulders and trees of the glacial valley, Ilrath saw movement among the rocks and called out a cry of warning. A raven flew from the top of a nearby rock formation. Moments later, an outlandishly dressed orcish bowman stepped from behind a nearby boulder and fired a shot that glanced off Krase's armor. He wore a suit of studded leather armor but had little else in the way of clothing. He was adorned with a variety of brightly colored feathers that could have come from no bird indigenous to the area. Time to speculate on ornithology later, the party decided.

Ilrath spotted a brilliant yellow headdress just on the other side of a narrow space between a pair of boulders. He figured there was a good chance that beneath it was an orcish head that needed cleaving in twain. He hustled over and took a hack at the lightly armored orc but the narrow space between the tall boulders provided cover to the enemy and he missed.

An orcish warrior, also dressed in many colorful feathers - and a chain shirt, charged from cover and attacked Krase with his halberd, lightly wounding him. Another moved to pin Ilrath into the narrow crevice where he fought the orc in the headdress but missed the barbarian with his warhammer. The orc wearing the outlandish headgear raised a fairly innocent looking stick at Ilrath and loudly cried "Asharak!" at which point a jet of flame spurted forth engulfing Ilrath and blistering his skin.

Krase cut at the orc wielding the halberd an inflicted a serious wound with one of his short swords. Speaks with Stone pointed at the archer behind the boulder and gave Arc the order to attack as he stepped behind the warrior fighting Krase, flanking him with his long spear. With his attention divided between the Ranger and the Druid, the orc let his guard down and took a fatal thrust from the long spear.

Rhys had loaded his crossbow and taken a moment to cast his magical armor spell.

The orcish archer fired a point blank shot at the wolf that bore down on him but only scored a grazing wound.

Ilrath swung again through the narrow space between the boulders, this time scoring a hit on the orcish shaman but not one powerful enough to fell him. In turn, the shaman again raised his wand and shouted "Asharak!" once again, a word that would ever be burned (hehe) into Ilrath's memory. Another gout of flame washed over Ilrath and while he still stood, his beard would be weeks in recovering.

The warrior behind Ilrath took another swing with his warhammer but it bounced ineffectually off of the armor the barbarian wore.

A moment later, Krase moved in behind the warrior who was now a flankee instead of a flanker. A couple of cuts with his short swords left the orc standing but wounded.

Speaks with Stone moved over to attack the archer with his long spear but in an effort to avoid hitting Arc, he missed his target.

Rhys stepped forward and fired a shot at the warrior standing between Ilrath and Krase but his bolt missed the orc and shattered on the boulder behind him.

Seeing that the tide was rapidly turning against his team, the archer turned and fled at top speed with both Arc and Speaks taking parting shots at him but missing.

Ilrath, sorely wounded and afraid of another flame attack from the shaman stepped away from the crevice and hacked down the warrior behind him. This reprieve was welcome to the shaman who took a moment to heal the worst of his wounds. But his relief was to be short lived as Krase charged around to the other side of the boulder and delivered a vicious stab with his right hand blade.

Rhys reloaded his crossbow again but found himself with not a target in sight. He moved around the opposite boulder from the one that Krase had just attacked the shaman, seeking to possibly flank the shaman. Speaks and Arc took off in pursuit of the archer with Arc outdistancing the Druid as he quickly closed the distance on the fleeing orc.
Ilrath stepped back to the narrow opening and took another swing at the shaman but again the rocks hampered his swing and he missed. Hoping to induce the Ranger to back off, the shaman used his wand against him this time. Krase was scorched and angry but still had plenty of fight left in him. He drove forward and scored hits with both blades, sending the shaman to his eternal rest.

Just then, Rhys rounded the other boulder only to find that again he had no target. He raced off in the direction he had seen Speaks and Arc run.

Deciding that it was impossible to outrun the wolf, the last remaining orc drew his scimitar and hacked at Arc, scoring a minor hit on the wolf. But Arc leapt on him viciously dealing a nasty bite to the foul tasting orc. Speaks continued to race to catch up with his wolf friend and their quarry. Again the orc sliced at the wolf, but this time his aim was off and he swung wide. Arc attacked low in an attempt to knock the orc to the ground where he could be more properly mauled to death but the orc danced free of his jaws. Unfortunately for him, Speaks with Stone came charging in with his spear and used it to remind him not to fool with mother nature. The orc slid to the ground where Arc promptly ripped his throat out.

As Speaks and Arc stood over the slain orc, Rhys came running up, panting.

"Damn! I'm just a couple seconds too late to kill anybody today!"

He and Speaks took a minute to rummage through the belongings of the orc and drag him under some bushes. They discovered that he carried a sack of meat that looked all too human. Rhys also noted that the studded leather armor the orc wore seemed exceptionally well made. He however had no intentions of wearing the armor of a stinking orc. They returned to the scene of the ambush.

Meanwhile, after recovering from the initial shock of his burns, Ilrath noted the fine chain shirts the orcish warriors wore. He set about stripping one of the suits off the body and trying it on for size. Clearly he had fewer issues with looting the orcs of armor than Rhys did.

Krase had made a startling discovery. The orcish shaman wore an amulet that was almost identical to one that his grandfather (not the dwarven one) had left him and which he carried in his pack along with his grandfather's journal. He asked Rhys to examine the newfound amulet and tell him what he could about it, but he didn't reveal to the rest of the party that he carried a similar one.

Rhys was only too happy to assist in the looting of the orcs and quickly laid claim to the wand the shaman had used. As he had a fairly good idea of what it did and had heard the command word several times during the fighting, he saw no need to identify it further at the moment. His spell of magical detection also uncovered a pair of scrolls in a tube on the shaman's belt that turned out to be healing magic.

Krase opted to eschew the chain shirt handed to him by Ilrath. But he was interested when Rhys mentioned the high quality studded leather the archer wore. He decided to recover it before they continued northwards. As they left the scene of the ambush, a raven could be seen winging its way to the northwest.

NEXT: On to the Stone Tooth


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

That night, as the party camped, Speaks wandered a short distance into the nearby forest and followed the hooting of an owl. When he located the creature, he cast his spell of animal friendship and this time was successful. With the owl riding his shoulder, he strode back into camp. He now had two faithful animal friends, both of whom regarded Rhys' new familiar, Tavis, as a potential snack.

As the dim light rose on their camp, a light snow began to fall. They looked at each other somberly, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the snows would reach as far south as the Coritani lands and that would likely mark the start of the orcish offensive. They pressed on towards the Stone Tooth.

In late afternoon, they were starting to seek a safe camp for the night and were passing between a pair of rocky ridges. Ilrath suddenly stopped and said, "Do you hear that?"

Without further warning the snow at the base of the leftmost ridge burst open and a large white centipede burst forth, spines on its back glowing a dull red. (Note: I know, I know. You're thinking "Holy crap! He threw a Remmorhaz at those poor 2nd-3rd level characters! He instantly qualifies as a Rat Bastard DM ™. Remain calm. It was a juvenile that I toned down for this party. Still, it could easily have killed the lot of them had things gone poorly.)

Without thought for his own safety, Ilrath let out a battle cry and charged the beast and scored a devastating blow with his great axe (crit for 39 points of damage). In return, the creature gave Ilrath a vicious bite that nearly staggered him. Krase charged in but failed to damage the creature on his first attempt. Rhys hit it with a crossbow bolt while Speaks summoned a badger to attack it from behind.

The great bug launched a terrible bite at Krase who suffered a nasty wound. The next round of attacks nicked away at the beast, but it was the vicious bite of the badger that sent it into oblivion. The creature toppled over with a hissing sound as its red hot spines melted the snow on the ground.

After a few moments to recover, the party explored the cave the beast had shot out from. Inside they found little of value save a somewhat damaged set of banded mail. But the cave did provide excellent shelter for the party. They decided to stay in the cave for the night and throughout the following day. The extra time gave them a chance to rest and heal. It also meant that Speaks had a chance to brew a couple healing potions which he gave to Rhys and Krase (Note: In my campaign, you can scribe a number of scrolls or brew a number of potions up to a maximum of your spellcasting stat bonus as long as the items stay under the 1,000gp cap.). This also gave Rhys time to use the Identify aspect of the magic candle to ID his new wand and the amulet they found on the shaman.

(The wand turned out to cast the _Burning Hands_ spell at caster level 2 and had 38 charges left. The amulet allowed someone to send a message up to 20 words to anyone else with a similar amulet who was within 1 mile per character level, one time per day.)

When Rhys announced the function of the amulet, Krase rather bashfully admitted that he had another similar amulet in his pack. This drew a derisive glare from Rhys who pointed out that it would have been helpful if he could have identified it along with the other items. Some quick experimentation proved that among any other abilities, Krase's amulet also had the ability to send a receive a message once per day.

The party spent the next night in the cave and at dawn, headed once more towards the Stone Tooth. Speaks with Stone provided all the humans in the party with spells to help them resist the cold and it made travel much easier and more pleasant.

No more orc patrols were spotted that day and by dusk they arrived at the base of the mountain. They decided that it would be wiser not to climb the mountain at night and made camp under a rock overhang.

(NOTE: FROM HERE ON OUT, I STARTED A HEAVILY MODIFIED VERSION OF THE FORGE OF FURY. IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT MODULE SPOILED FOR YOU, DON’T READ ANY FURTHER. I WILL POST ANOTHER MESSAGE WHEN THE PARTY HAS LEFT THE FORGE SO THAT YOU CAN RESUME READING, BUT THAT IS WHERE THEY WILL BE ADVENTURING FOR AT LEAST THE NEXT SEVERAL SESSIONS. YOU WERE WARNED.)

After another uneventful night, the party quickly found a path up the steep mountain. Throughout the early part of the day, the party climbed the path that wound up the mountain, periodically exposed to the wind and snow that blew in from the north and sometimes in the lee of the mountain. Always they had the steep side of the mountain on one side and a steep drop off on the other as they made their way along the ledge.

In early afternoon, they rounded the mountainside into the wind and snow again. A few steps later, Rhys spotted a pair of figures who appeared to be standing guard on a ledge up ahead. A moment later, he realized that these were not the squat and sturdy forms of dwarves, but in fact the tall and muscular shapes of orcs. Further, in the whiteness of the snowfall, the brightly colored feathers they wore stood out clearly.

Rhys quickly grabbed the others before they were spotted and they retreated back into the lee of the mountain. He told them about the orcs and they decided to retreat even further down the path to discuss what they should do.

It was quickly decided that more information was necessary to plan their next move and Tavis was dispatched to get the lay of the land. She moved along the edge of the path and determined that near where the orcs stood guard, it ended at a crevasse that ran into the mountain. Following this she found that the crevasse led to a large room with a pair of doors leading to the interior of the mountain. One of the doors was open somewhat and she crept inside.

Beyond the doors she found herself on a wide ledge that ended in a deep pit. A rope bridge stretched off into the darkness and she could see no further than that. Rhys recalled her and on the return trip, she noticed a series of holes that looked down into the crevasse that could be used for observation. She crawled up the outward side of the crevasse and along the mountainside back to Rhys.

After a brief discussion, there was no question that some kind of attack needed to be initiated on the mountain entrance. The dwarves they were sent to contact could be trapped in the lower levels and freeing them or causing enough of a distraction to allow them to free themselves would not only be the right thing to do, it would virtually assure their cooperation against the orcs in the future. In addition, if the orcs felt that their hold on the Stone Tooth were slipping, they might send more troops to reinforce the mountain and that would be that many fewer orcs attacking the barbarian lands and the forces of Glynden.

The first assessment the group made was that they wanted to be freshly rested before making an assault on these orcs. They withdrew some distance back down the mountain until they found a wide spot on the ledge along the leeward side of the Stone Tooth. They put up their tarp and huddled inside from the dampness of the snow (They weren't cold thanks to Speaks with Stones Endure Elements spells). The decided to spend the night there and attack in the morning when the spellcasters had a fresh compliment of spells.

Throughout the afternoon, they debated the best way to gain entrance to the complex that would put the party in the most advantageous position and make the best use of their spells. Fortunately for them, no patrols left from or returned to the mountain that afternoon or night. In the morning, Speaks with Stone communed with nature to gather the carefully selected spells the group had planned for.

NEXT: Assault on the Mountain Door


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

NEXT: Assault on the Mountain Door

They made their way back up the path until they were just out of sight of the orcs lookout post. There, Speaks with Stone cast a spell on Ilrath to give his skin the resiliency of an old oak tree. He then picked up a small rock from the path and cast a spell of illumination on it. Krase tucked this stone into his jerkin so that he could later pull it out on short notice. Rhys used his magic to grant each member of the party the ability to cling to the cliff walls like spiders. Unfortunately this required direct contact with the stone and each member of the party had to remove his boots and gloves. Needless to say, the group was anxious to get on with the attack so that they could once again have warm feet.

Speaks gave Arc the command to guard the path until he whistled for him. Then the party began to climb up and over the ridge of stone that separated the path from the crevasse. They moved as far into the crack in the mountain as possible in order to remain concealed from view of the arrowslits on the opposite wall. Once down inside the crevasse, they split up. Speaks with Stone climbed along the wall that contained the arrowslits until he was above them, remaining very quiet in order not to alert the two orcs who stood guard as they were now in view. The rest of the group crept inside using their spider climbing ability to remain on the ceiling.

Speaks positioned himself just above the outermost arrowslit and waited tensely. He was hiding right out in the open and had to count on the fact that the orcs probably weren't used to seeing a druid clinging to the side of the mountain.

Inside, the rest of the group noticed that there were another pair of arrowslits on opposite walls of the antechamber room. They crept quietly across the ceiling and into the alcove where the door was, carefully crawling through the partially open door and into the chamber beyond. In the faint light of the morning that managed to penetrate this far into the cavern they could just barely see that the rope-bridge extended around 30 feet to the other side of the pit. Beyond that, all was darkness.

They crept further across the ceiling trying not to look down into the gaping blackness of the pit. Just as they were above the opposite side of the pit, a voice called out from the darkness in a guttural language that Rhys recognized as orcish. They heard the thrum of bowstrings and the clattering of arrows off the ceiling around them.

Krase quickly dropped the light stone on the ground and then leapt to the ground himself. As he did so, he activated the amulet and sent a message to Speaks who still clung to the cliff face outside. The message was, "Go!". Rhys and Ilrath quickly followed Krase's lead, leaping to the ground and stepping forward to engage their enemies. A moment later Krase drew his short swords and stepped forward to attack one of the pair of orcs they could now see on the ledge. The orc died with a single thrust of his gladius. Ilrath quickly closed with the other bow-wielding orc and laid him low with a devastating cut from his great axe.

Meanwhile outside, Speaks crept forward the last few inches until he could see inside the arrowslit. He then unleashed a fiery sphere inside the archery gallery and sent it rolling along the interior toward a group of orcs gathered in a guard room. The orc panicked at this entirely unexpected turn of events and ran screaming into a nearby hallway where the sphere quickly caught up and burned one to death.

The other three orcish guards who had been manning the arrowslits hastily opened a secret door that opened onto the ledge opposite of where the other party members had been fighting. Speaks was rapidly loosing sight of them and sent the ball rolling out the door where it burned another orc, knocking him down the pit.

All of this commotion had, of course, alerted the two orcs on guard duty outside. The quickly ran over and noticed the druid clinging to the wall, peering through the arrowslits and probably causing the screams of fear and pain they could hear from inside. Unfortunately for them, they were not armed with any missile weapons and were unable to strike directly at the druid. They quickly decided to go inside to offer whatever help they could.

With his flaming sphere expired, Speaks saw that the orcish guards were about to go inside. Not knowing what the status of his friends inside was, he decided that he should prevent those orcs from coming to the aid of their fellows. He whistled for Arc and moved down the wall to flat ground where he could engage the orcs with his long spear. Seeing that they now had a reachable target, the orcs doubled back and attacked the druid.

Back inside, the rest of the party was engaged in a very one-sided ranged battle with the orcs who had escaped the onslaught of the flaming sphere. The party had discovered that the side of the pit they were on benefited from a pair of large, floor to ceiling natural stone pillars that offered them excellent cover while the orcs on the opposite ledge had no such advantage.

Ilrath hurled a hand axe in the initial moments but then moved back to guard the pair of doors that lay at the rear of the chamber, lest the party be assaulted from behind. Krase had switched from his swords to his short bow and Rhys was effectively firing away with his crossbow. In moments, one of the two orcs was down.

Just then another secret door opened opposite of the first one and yet another orc scurried out onto the ledge with longbow in hand. He was quickly downed and the last surviving orc looked briefly back at the secret door where the flaming sphere had come from. He decided that while there might be another deadly ball of fire waiting in there for him, to stand and fight on the ledge against ranged attackers with good cover was certain death. He ran for the passage to the archery gallery.

Seeing that the enemy was on the run, Ilrath gave chase by climbing along the wall of the chamber using his recently granted spider climbing ability. Krase and Rhys were not far behind and elected to use the ceiling and walls, eschewing the possibly unsafe rope bridge.

Outside, Speaks downed one of the two orcs he faced with his first spear thrust. The other one was proving difficult, however. Even though Arc had arrived and attacked the orc from his flank, both of their attacks were seeming surprisingly inept. Fortunately for them, the orc seemed to be having similar problems. (Note: For four consecutive rounds, Speaks, Arc and the orc rolled nothing above a 6 on any of their attacks).

Ilrath had raced down the archer gallery in pursuit of the orc. At the end he found a small room with an open door that contained a stairway leading further up into the mountain. Unfortunately it was quite dark in the stairway and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight effectively in such darkness. He stayed in the dim light afforded by the arrowslits and yelled out, "Need Light!". To the credit of the rest of the party, none of them offered an anachronistic product known as "Bud Light".

Krase and Rhys both skidded to a halt in their tracks at Ilrath's plea and then gazed across the chasm to where the light stone provided by Speaks lay where Krase had dropped it. Rhys immediately began scrambling across the rope bridge after it, reaching it moments later and tossing it across the pit to Krase. Krase raced down the archery gallery to where Ilrath was already engaging an orc with other beginning to pour down the stairway toward him.

Ilrath began to down one orc after another while his armor and bark-like skin protected him from most of the damage being sent his way by the opposition. Krase was frustrated at his inability to engage the orcs on the narrow stairway until he realized that the elevation would allow him to fire at those at the top of the stairs with his bow.

An orc near the top of the stairs noticed this and feeling that turnabout was only fair launched a javelin down the stairwell at Ilrath. Unfortunately for him, the javelin merely sunk into the back of the orc Ilrath was currently fighting, killing him. No further attempts were made to throw javelins down the stairs.

Ilrath, thanks to the help from the orc, had fought his way to the base of the stairs and found himself face to face with one of the veteran fighters among the orcs. This orc wielded a large steel shield that warded off blow after blow from Ilrath's great axe while his finely crafted handaxe found its way through his defenses a couple of times. Finally, Ilrath brought his axe down so precisely and with such force that it crumpled the veteran orc to the ground in a single blow. Atop the stairs, the other orcs nervously waited for the barbarian.

Rhys had meanwhile stationed himself at the secret door that lead to the guard room and archer gallery to keep watch on their rear. Before he positioned himself there, he cut through the guide ropes of the bridge to make crossing it a very dangerous proposition. Sure enough, a group of orcs soon entered the opposite side of the chamber through the double doors there. Although Rhys couldn't see far enough into the darkness there to attack effectively without the light stone, he did manage to keep the orcs pinned down by shooting any that stepped to the front of the ledge.

Finally having dispatched the last orc guard outside, Speaks took a moment to heal himself and then ran inside. Rhys heard him approach and got his attention, directing him to where Ilrath and Krase were fighting at the other end of the archer gallery. Speaks hurried off in that direction along with Arc while Rhys noticed that the orcs seemed to have retreated from the opposite ledge, back further into the complex.

They soon reappeared however, in the room that Ilrath and Krase were assaulting, bolstering the forces there. Ilrath made the top of the stairs to find himself surrounded by half a dozen or more orcs. He cleaved through a pair of them and stepped into the room. Krase who had put his bow away again, was now able to attack across the threshold of the stairway at one of the orcs that flanked Ilrath. They began to gain a measure of confidence when they heard a deep voice bellow, "Who dares challenge the Great Ulfe!?" Of course they weren't too shaken since they couldn't speak orcish and had no idea who Ulfe was in any event. Still, it was said with authority and the fact that the voice appeared attached to an enormous, barrel chested orc with a great axe in one hand and a pair of wolves on chains in the other did much to get Ulfe's message across in the universal language of fear.


Ulfe cried havoc and unleashed the wolves of war as he charged in with his great axe. Krase managed to down the orc that he had been cutting at around the corner of the stairwell and timidly stepped into the room to face the wrath of this mighty orc. Ilrath in the mean time managed to cleave through another of the orcish defenders and cut deeply into one of Ulfe's wolves. Fortunately for him, Speaks with Stone was just arriving at the bottom of the staircase and didn't see this brutal assault on nature's beauty.
Krase launched a series of cuts at Ulfe that were unable to penetrate his mighty armor while Ilrath managed to kill the last of the other orcs in the room and finish off one of the wolves. He then turned on Ulfe as Speaks with Stone entered the room and began to entreat the remaining wolf to attack it's master.

Ignoring the puny and ineffectual human wielding the pair of overgrown butter knives, Ulfe rounded on Ilrath and dealt him a devastating blow from his greataxe that could easily have felled anyone else in the party. Drawing on his inner rage, Ilrath swung back with fury and scored a minor wound on the giant orc. With Ulfe distracted, Krase managed to land one of his blades as well, scoring mild cut on his axe-wielding adversary.

Speaks with Stone was unable to convince Ulfe's pet to turn against him and decided that if somebody has to commit a sin against nature, it might as well be the druid. He sicced Arc on the other wolf and moved into position with his long spear. Moments later, Ilrath saved him the trouble by cleaving through the wolf and scoring another wound on the mighty Ulfe.

Ulfe was not quite as stupid as he looked and seeing that the last of his allies was down and that although heavily wounded, his opponents were still fighting hard, he decided to beat a hasty retreat, risking whatever attacks they might launch as a result. The party failed to connect on any of the several swings they directed at the fleeing Ulfe and he made it into the hallway beyond the door on the other end of the room.

Ilrath was too exhausted from his primal rage to give chase and none of the rest of the party felt much like fighting the mighty Ulfe at the moment either. Speaks used a bit more of his healing magic on Ilrath and for just a moment, they were able to breathe easy.

The moment of peace was short lived however. Far at the other end of the archer gallery from the room the majority of the party occupied, Rhys began screaming. Nobody in the rest of the party knew what he was screaming about and, oddly enough, neither did he. He only knew that he was suddenly filled with the most overwhelming fear he had ever experienced. He ran from his post by the secret door back through the guard room and down the archer gallery as fast as his feet would carry him.

The rest of the party members had meanwhile spread out throughout the large room the bulk of the battle had taken place in. Ilrath was closest to the stairs when they heard the terrified cries of Rhys and he moved as quickly as his fatigued body would allow toward the main entrance. Rhys dashed passed Ilrath with his face a mask of terror. Krase stopped to ask Rhys what caused his fear and, receiving no coherent answer, went after Ilrath again.

Ilrath arrived at the secret door and had time to peer beyond to where a pair of orcs were just beginning to crawl their way across the single strand of rope that remained of the bridge. That was all he saw, however because he became very sleepy all of a sudden and took a nap right in the secret doorway.

Moments later, Krase arrived in the doorway and found the orcs on the rope across the pit. One of the orcs was very nearly across and another was halfway. Krase took careful aim and fired an arrow, not at either of the orcs but at the bridge rope itself. Miraculously he struck the rope and all but severed it, the weight of the orcs snapping the remaining fibers a split second later. (Note: This was the first time we had used the "damage to inanimate objects" rules and looking all this up was starting to break up the flow of the combat. Then Krase's character said, "I'm just going to shoot. If it doesn't work, fine, but that's what I'm doing." He rolled a natural 20 and did 8 points of damage to the rope. It was one of the highlights of the campaign so far.)

The orc who was midway across the rope tried to hold on but he was slammed against the far side of the pit and plunged to his death. The orc who was nearly across however managed to grab the ledge and hang on. Krase yelled back over his shoulder, "They're coming this way!" and fired at the orc who was clambering up onto the ledge, missing.

As that orc got to his feet, the orcs on the other side of the pit yelled something at him and he turned and fled out the front door. Krase quickly ran to one of the arrowslits to fire a parting shot at him but failed to spot him in the dim light of the crevasse. Afraid that the orcs would find another way across the pit, he ran back to the secret door.

At the other end of the archer gallery, in the orcish barracks, Speaks with stone heard footsteps retreating in the hallway that Ulfe had run down. He stepped through to investigate and heard a click sound. Spinning around, he got a face full of greenish gas that emanated from the mouth of a dwarven statue. He suddenly felt the strength fade from his limbs and he quickly retreated back into the barracks and warned Rhys of this danger.

Krase had returned to the secret door and observed that the orcs had once again taken cover behind the pillars and showed no signs of attempting another crossing of the, now bridgeless, pit. Krase took the opportunity to wake Ilrath from his slumber just as Speaks arrived behind him. Krase explained that he had had to shoot the bridge down and Ilrath and Speaks were both privately impressed by his marksmanship. Speaks explained that Rhys was back in the room they had fought the big battle in trying to find a way to jam the door shut. Krase departed to help him while Ilrath and Speaks stayed behind to try and find a way to secure the secret door against intrusion by any other orcs that somehow crossed the pit.

Krase entered the large barracks room and saw Rhys trying to jam a javelin through the door handle. He approached from behind just as Rhys had withdrawn a small hammer from his pack to pound the javelin securely in place. Suddenly, the javelin splintered as the door was ripped open by Ulfe who promptly swung his axe at Rhys, missing by the smallest of margins. Ulfe alone would have been enough for Rhys to run from but seeing that he had a trio of other orcs behind him put the matter far beyond question and Rhys ran back to the stairway at the other end of the room. At least this time he was certain what it was he was terrified of.

Krase was quick to arrive at the same decision and dashed back to the stairs which were now blocked by Rhys. Krase, secure in his masculinity, was screaming not unlike a little girl as he repeated, "Down the stairs! Down the stairs!" over and over again in an attempt to hasten Rhys.

Meanwhile Speaks had decided to explore the secret door opposite of the one they had been defending. He was afraid that it might offer another route deeper into the mountain that the orcs could attack from. Instead he found that it was a dead end and was returning back to the ledge.

Ilrath had heard the sound of the door crashing open and had once again returned to the area of the barracks stairway, arriving just in time to block the path of Rhys.

The orcs that were with Ulfe rushed past him and raced across the barracks arranging themselves across the top of the stairway in such a fashion that all three could attack Krase at their next opportunity. Ulfe moved in behind them.

Rhys saw an opportunity to strike at the lot of them at once. Instead of obeying Krase's litany of begging him to descend the stairway as fast as possible, Rhys edged in behind him. In one fluid motion, he drew forth the wand he had taken from the orcish adept, pulled aside Krase's long cape and thrust the wand beneath the ranger's legs yelling, "Asharak!"

The screams of Krase and the orcs blended into one as a huge gout of flame shot forth from the ranger's crotch to engulf all four of the orcs who had arranged themselves in a neat 10 foot radius. One of the orcs could no longer take the pressure and ran in fear. Pushing down his fear and humiliation, Krase struck at another orc that was within reach but his aim was ruined by the Rhys who, after all, was pressed right up against him and had a hand between his legs.

Ulfe stepped into the opening left by the fleeing orc and bore down on the ranger who found himself unable to move very well due to the aforementioned compromising position. Krase took a blow from the great axe, but it was not nearly the equal of the one he had seen Ilrath receive earlier.

Seeing that he was missing all the fun, Ilrath ascended the stairs to directly behind the cramped (and intimate) area occupied by Rhys and Krase. Seeing that little has changed from a tactical standpoint apart from the flight of the one orc, Rhys sees no reason not to shout, "Asharak!" again and engulf the three remaining orcs in flames. This time, the fires overcome the two lackeys and Ulfe once again remains alone.

Having had just about enough homo-erotic fun with his friend Rhys, and wanting to put some distance between his groin area and the magical flame-thrower his friend was wielding, Krase steped over the bodies of the orcs and slashed at Ulfe. One of his blades found a way through Ulfe's armor and wounded him again.

Ulfe slashed again at Krase but missed. Ilrath bulled his way past Rhys and took a swing at Ulfe but the wall at the top of the stairs prevented him from connecting. With the room once again crowded with his friends, Rhys reluctantly put away his wand and loaded his crossbow. Krase stepped part way around Ulfe to allow Ilrath to come fully into the room and drove in again with his blades and once again one found its way through.

Again Ulfe struck at Krase and again missed but Krase wondered how long his luck could hold out. Ilrath stepped fully into the room and swung his mighty axe but his luck was no better than that of Ulfe. Then Rhys slid past Ilrath and moved to position himself so that he could get a clear shot at the enormous orc. His bolt flew true and struck Ulfe sending him to the ground at last.

In a rather odd turn of events, Krase leapt atop Ulfe and immediately began trying to keep him from dying. Ilrath and Rhys looked askance at each other but figured that perhaps Krase wanted to question the orc. Unfortunately for Krase he was unable to staunch the flow of blood and Ulfe took any secrets he had with him to the grave. But Krase did happen to notice that Ulfe was wearing another of the mysterious amulets like that given to him by his grandfather.

While these events were unfolding, Speaks with Stone has been having an unusual encounter of his own back in the pit room. As he emerged from the secret door that lead to the arrowslit looking into the antechamber, he noticed a curious sight. Crawling across the ceiling in a fashion very similar to the way his own party had been, was an orc dressed in simple leather armor.

Speaks moved out onto the middle of the ledge and sent his recently acquired owl companion to attack. The owl moved in and clawed at the orc, scratching him. The orc, who was presently unarmed crawled as quickly as he could toward the exit, suffering a jab from the druid's long spear in the process as well as continued harassment from the owl. He managed to finally crawl back out to the crevasse and start up the wall.

Once clear of the low ceilinged antechamber and out of reach of the druid (or so he thought), he drew a dagger and slashed savagely at the owl, wounding it slightly. But in doing so, he did not notice that Speaks had dropped his long spear and drawn his cudgel, climbing the wall to within reach of the orc. The orc turned in time to slash at the druid as the owl flew away to safety. Speaks smote him with nature's own might and finally tipped the orc into unconsciousness, which sent him crashing 20 feet to the ground below.

Speaks swiftly descended to the ground below and hustled back to where he heard the dying sounds of combat. He did not notice the body of the orc he had just slain begin to smolder and smoke. (Note: The shaman hadn't found anywhere to use his flasks of alchemists fire and when he fell one of them cracked.)

Rhys passed Speaks in the archers gallery where he informed him of the demise of Ulfe. Speaks mentioned his encounter with the orcish spellcaster and Rhys went to inspect the body hoping to find some more magical booty. What he found was instead a conflagration as the body of the orcish adept was consumed by the alchemists fire. All that had escaped was a few bone fragments and the dagger that had fallen nearby.

The group gathered together and congratulated themselves on a hard won battle. For the moment at least, no more orcs were attacking them.

NEXT: Information and Exploration


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

In the aftermath of the battle, a head count indicated that the party had killed 21 orcs and the pair of wolves. Two orcs were unaccounted for: The one that had barely made it across the rope bridge as Krase had shot it down and the one who had fled (understandably) from the "Groin of Fire" incident at the top of the stairs in the barracks. The first of these orcs had made it out of the mountain and would presumably make his way back to the main orcish army to report what happened. The other had retreated further into the mountain.

Of all the orcs they had fought, only one remained alive and they bound his wounds, tied him up and dragged him into the dead-end archer post on the south side of the pit chamber. Krase then began to systematically strip each of the orcs of any weapons or armor that they might save to give to the dwarves or barbarians.

Having been warned by Speaks about the trap beyond the barracks, Rhys examined the area, identified the pressure plate and marked the edges of it with ink from his inkwell. Then he and Ilrath searched a short distance down the hallway beyond. They located a set of stairs atop which was a door left ajar. They investigated this room and discovered that it was mostly bare with the exception of a cot. Rhys was sure that it must have a secret door to the other side of the complex but was unable to locate one. He did however find a sack beneath the cot that contained a large number of silver and gold pieces and a magical rapier.

Satisfied with this loot, Rhys and Ilrath returned back to the barracks and collected Krase (Ilrath also collected a masterwork handaxe from the corpse of the veteran orc he had fought). The party decided that their need to rest and recover outweighed their desire to explore further that day (it was still just an hour after dawn). They holed up in the dead end archer post where they could observe anyone who passed through the antechamber. A few hours passed and their captive finally regained consciousness.

They learned that his name was Thark and he seemed very articulate for an orc. But then again, none of them had ever questioned an orc before. Rhys began to ask him questions of a rather general nature such as where exactly the orcs had come from. Up to this point, the party had assumed that they had invaded from somewhere in the southlands because Speaks could positively identify that the brightly colored feathers they wore were found only on birds indigenous to warmer climes. Thark dispelled this notion however by revealing the astonishing fact that the orcs hailed from the fabled City of Endless Summer. The party asked where this city was located and Thark informed them that it was far up in the Blackpeaks and would be impossible for anyone to find it without falling prey to the predators of the mountains or the orcs who were now banded together.

Thark, apparently feeling that he had given enough information without benefit of some consideration, asked if they planned to kill him. Rhys told him that they hadn't decided yet. Thark informed them that if they intended to kill him that he would answer no more of their questions. He did offer that if they would spare his life and set him free, he would tell them everything he knew of The Stone Tooth. Rhys agreed (although there were already considerable doubts about whether he would keep his promise before the words left his lips).

Thark, true to his word (at least as far as they could detect), gave a lot of information about the orcs presence at The Stone Tooth. He confirmed that they had slain the vast majority, if not all, of the orcs stationed there. He indicated that Ulfe was their leader and that their task was to guard the Mountain Door against any intruders. But what they were guarding came as a huge shock: They were guarding the dwarves that dwelled in the caverns below so that the dwarves could busily turn out superior weapons for the orcs to use against the barbarians.

Krase, who was partially raised by a dwarf, flatly refused to believe this could be true. Rhys carefully questioned Thark on this point and while Thark admitted that he himself had never spoken to or seen the dwarves, he knew several other orcs (now deceased) who were in the party that initially made contact with the dwarves several weeks ago and confirmed their presence. The party members were shocked that this could possibly be true and decided that since no dwarves they'd ever heard of would have anything to do with orcs, these dwarves must be under some sort of magical compulsion or had been fooled by some kind of clever trickery by the orcs.

Thark also revealed that there was little contact between themselves and the dwarves because the grand staircase to the lower caves was infested with "bane biters". After he described what these creatures were, Speaks was fairly sure that he referred to what they called "Stirges" in the Empire. He noted that they were like a combination between bats and mosquitoes but that he had spells that should render them docile enough to pass.

Rhys and the rest of the party wanted to talk about their next move but didn't want Thark to hear any of their plans. So Rhys (in the bonehead move of the night) decided to put the orc unconscious again using a quick Ray of Frost. He shot the helpless captive at point blank range and POW - max damage. Thark departs the mortal realm (The party didn't know that he had stabilized on his own at -7HP. If Rhys hadn't killed him with the Ray of Frost, Speaks with Stone's natural 1 on his healing check would have done the job nicely.)

Krase became very upset at the fact that Rhys had just killed a captive prisoner (not to mention their only source of information). It was apparently against everything he believed in (Note: Krase as it turns out was Lawful Neutral! I didn't closely monitor the character alignments when they made them and I had just been under the assumption that Krase was Chaotic or Neutral Good. Learn something new every day.)

Rhys explained that he had no intentions of killing Thark (which was true at the moment) and that it was a careless accident. Krase sulked a bit but was somehow able to put Thark's demise behind him. Speaks helped with this endeavor by dragging Thark's corpse outside the secret door and tossing him down the pit, muttering something about embracing the Earth Mother on impact. It was as close to a decent burial as any of the party's enemies have had and showed that they were a bit closer to spiritual enlightenment.

The party spent the rest of the afternoon and night resting and healing and awoke prepared to delve further into the depths of the Stone Tooth and discover what could be motivating the dwarves to aid the orcs. (GM Note: During this time, Rhys _Identified_ the rapier they had found. It was a +1 rapier. He also _Identified_ the amulet that Krase had and the one that Ulfe wore and determined that they were identical in function to the first one they found on the orcish shaman.)

It took the party little time to explore and determine that there were no more orcs to be found in the passageways on the upper level. The party did make a number of unfortunate discoveries, however. In the central cavern apparently used by the orcs for storage, they found a large pile of snow along the north wall. Packed in the snow were a variety of human body parts, mostly arms and legs. Many of them were too small to have been cut from barbarian warriors. Ilrath was enraged but was helpless to do anything but vow to avenge those who had fallen to the orcs.

They also found a small side cave with a crack in the ceiling to vent smoke from the caverns. Below it was a burnt out cookfire and a large cauldron with some rather thick looking stew in it. Again, the party assumed the worst and Ilrath's knuckles went white on the haft of his great axe.

The group finally made their way to a small chamber of worked stone in the south of the complex. Hanging from the ceiling of the room by rough twine were approximately a dozen skulls, yellowed from smoke. Three hide pallets were spread out on the floor and in one corner was a small brazier with a pot on top of it. Nearby lay a sack of coal and two small bags of various herbs. Speaks was able to determine that these herbs typically grew in warmer climates and that they could be used as potion components.

On the north side of this room was a sturdy door. By now the group had evolved a standard procedure for opening doors: Rhys would listen at the door, check for traps and (assuming he found none) open the door. He did so with this door.

Beyond the door was the largest room they had yet encountered. In the center was a large rift in the floor with stairs descending into it. The far wall was not yet visible. As they stood there, Speaks and Rhys heard the flapping of wings overhead. Speaks quickly cast a spell up along the ceiling that put the stirges into a trance and the rest of the party moved toward the opposite end of the room.

Along the west wall they spotted a gate that had many hides and rags stuffed into it, presumably to prevent the stirges from getting into other areas of the upper floor. At the end of the room was another door, opposite of the one they entered through, with the face of a glowering dwarf carved on it. Rhys approached the door and listened to it. Hearing nothing from the other side, he proceeded to check it for traps and found none. He turned to the rest of the party and gave a thumbs up. Then he opened the door.

There was an immediate clicking sound and the squeaking sound of pulleys accompanied by a strong smelling fluid gushing out of several spouts located around the door. Sensing danger, Tavis sprang from her normal spot on Rhys' shoulder and scampered back toward the rest of the party some 20 feet away. Rhys was not so quick on his feet. The liquid burst into flame on contact with the air and Rhys was instantly engulfed in an inferno. Those "Groin of Fire" jokes seemed far less funny now that it was his own groin that was threatened.

Within the first seconds of the conflagration, Rhys crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Seeing his friend in trouble, Krase heroically dashed into the fire and grabbed Rhys from the Flames. He was slightly burned as he dashed back out of the flames, but not nearly as badly as Rhys had been. Speaks stopped concentrating on his spell that kept the stirges at bay, counting on the fire to handle that job, and rushed over to use one of his minor healing magics to stop the worst of Rhys' bleeding.

A quick (and fateful) decision was made that Speaks would carry Rhys back to the room of skulls and care for him while Ilrath and Krase would explore the stairway to find out what awaited them below.

NEXT:  Into the Depths of the Glitterhame


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

Krase led the way down the stairs and found that, after a short distance, they leveled off a bit and turned to the east. A few feet later, the passage branched where a small stream had carved its own passage due east. Krase opted to follow the stairs instead of the stream passage. Then the stairway opened into a sizable cavern with the stairs descending along the northern wall. As they continued to go down, they heard a familiar fluttering of wings and suddenly a stirge darted out of the darkness toward Ilrath. He ponderously swung his great axe at the tiny beast but to no avail. It landed on his shoulder and dug in its needle like nose. Ilrath immediately began to feel weaker.

Krase prepared to go to Ilrath's aid, but before he could act, a trio of stirges swooped at him. He managed a swing at one of them as it dove toward him but, like Ilrath, he missed. He too began to feel drained as the stirges quite literally sucked the life out of him. Ilrath quickly drew his dagger and stabbed it into the one that was attached to him, nearly killing the creature and certainly giving it second thoughts about where it should be getting its meals.

Krase likewise struck at those that were leeching him but only dealt one a minor blow. Ilrath finished his off before it could drain any more of his life blood and hurled the corpse to the ground, crushing it underfoot. Krase then successfully slew one of the beasts on himself as the others continued to drain him ever closer to doom. Ilrath then stepped close to Krase and stabbed one of the two remaining blood suckers on Krase with his dagger. The blood of Krase and the creature mingled on his armor as it died. The last of the stirges had sated itself on Krase and withdrew to fly away. Krase swung at it half-heartedly as it flew away, but it made good its escape.

Krase was so weakened, he could barely stand and Ilrath quickly scooped him into his arms and hurried back up the stairway. Fortunately, the stirges in the room above still seemed to be cowed by the smoke from the earlier fire. Ilrath successfully brought Krase back to the skull room where he related their ill fated and brief attempt to penetrate the lower caverns.

With half the party badly wounded and Krase so drained from the vicious stirge attacks, they decided to rest for a couple of days before descending the stairs again. (GM Note: Ilrath got off lucky, losing only a point of constitution. Krase on the other hand was drained from his normal Con of 12 down to 4. Thanks to the two days of rest and a few Lesser Restorations by Speaks with Stone, the party was back to full potential in just a couple of days.)

During the two days of recuperation, Ilrath stood guard at the front entrance to the mountain to assure that they would be aware of any returning orcish patrols. Speaks with Stone took the opportunity to brew a couple more healing potions, one of which he gave to Ilrath and the other which he kept for himself. Finally rested again, and armed with further magics to calm any more stirges they found, the party again entered the grand staircase room.

NEXT:  Into the Depths of the Glitterhame Redux


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

Within seconds, the sounds of wings were heard above and Speaks cast his spell. He urged the party onwards since his spell would only last a few minutes. Although they hadn't determined what was behind the door that triggered the fire trap, they decided it wasn't worth finding out at this time. They went down the stairs.

As they reached the same point Ilrath and Krase had before, three more stirges flew out of the darkness and attacked before Speaks could cast his spell. Rhys sliced one out of the air as it attacked him, using his newfound magical rapier for the first time. Two more of the stirges flew at the unfortunate Krase. He wounded one of them slightly as it attacked him. But only one of them managed to successfully sink it's beak into him. Ilrath hurled a hand axe at the one that missed and did not succeed at hitting the stirge or Krase (although it was a near thing with Krase). Speaks with Stone used his long spear instead of his magic and missed the one that sat on Krase's chest. In an act of pure self preservation, Krase killed the one that clung to him before any more of his companions could stab or hurl pointy objects at him in an attempt to kill the thing. Ilrath then hurled another hand axe that came close to hitting Krase and connected with the last stirge, killing it with a single throw.

Krase glowered at his companions and said something along the lines of "Who needs enemies?" The group continued to descend the stairs and once on the cavern floor set out to explore and retrieve various items that had fallen during the melee on the stairs. Ilrath quickly found his hand axes. Speaks located one of the fallen stirges and stabilized it with his healing skills. He wanted to start a nest of them back in his home forest to provide protection from marauding gnolls and woodcutters. How he planned on keeping it alive until the return trip to Glynden remained to be seen. For now, he put it in his pocket.

The group quickly ascertained that a small stream flowing across the chamber must be the same stream that they crossed coming down the stairs. It flowed out of the south side of the cavern through an iron grate that had been placed across the passageway. Another passage to the southeast had, at some point in the past, been closed up with mortar and stone. The only unobstructed exit from the room was to the northeast and they cautiously took it.

Some 70 feet beyond was another irregular cavern. There were two exits to the south and one to the northeast again. The opted for the northeast corridor. There they found an area that had obviously been recently mined as evidenced by tailing piled on the floor and pick marks on the walls. They also spotted two separate veins of a silver metal in the walls. There being no other exits from the chamber, they returned to the previous one and proceeded through one of the southern exits.

It was quickly found that the two southern exits merged into a single southward passage after a short distance. On the west wall was another passage whose entrance had been 2/3 filled with mine tailings. They bypassed this passage and continued south.

As they proceeded, Rhys, who was out in the lead, raised his hand, indicating that the party should stop. Up ahead, he and several other party members noticed a faint bluish-green glow emanating from the passage. He crept forward to find himself looking out at a magnificent chamber filled with phosphorescent fungi.

The rest of the group formed up in the alcove and noticed a pathway of crushed stone made its way southward. Rhys offered to scout the path while the rest of the group stayed put. He and Tavis proceeded south until they came to a well defined east-west path. Looking beyond the new path, Rhys could see the continuation of the crushed stone path amid the tree sized mushrooms. He crossed the east-west path and continued. He soon found the path he was on curving eastward and then northward again, forming a large semi-circle and coming back to the east-west path. To the east, he spotted a dark rectangular passage.

He approached the worked stone passageway to find it blocked with a stout iron door. The door was built in such a way that the hinges were not exposed. He further noticed a lock on the door. Deciding to alert the party of his discovery, he sent Tavis back along the curving gravel path while he took the more direct east west path.

Moments later as he walked along the northern side of the chamber, he spotted a pair of large, snake-like creatures with multiple tentacles climbing down the wall toward him. True to his character, he ran west along the path to where it intersected the stone path, calling for Tavis to rejoin him. She did, catching up just as he ran north back to the alcove where the rest of the party waited.

He hastily informed them that he was being pursued by "snake things" as he scurried past them back into the narrow corridor they had come down. They didn't have to wait long for the snake things (gricks) to appear. They came up the path and engaged Ilrath. Krase immediately began to call for the party to fall back to the narrow passage where only one of the creatures could attack at a time. Speaks hurried up the passage after Rhys, followed by Krase. Ilrath disengaged as well and followed the rest of the party, but not before suffering a crippling series of blows from the eight tentacle rakes coming his way.

They reach a place where the passage began to widen again and Krase stepped in to hold the line as Ilrath rushed past. The first grick came up the passage and Krase slashed at it with one of his short swords. Although he struck it, he found that his blade would not bite into the rubbery hide of the creature. Then it flailed at him with its tentacles as he cried out that the creatures couldn't be beaten with the weapons they had. Again he called for retreat.

Hearing his pleas for help, Rhys offered Krase his magical rapier but Krase refused the weapon and indicated that he would only hold them back for a few more seconds and that they should run. Ilrath gulped down his healing potion and took the rapier from Rhys saying that he would fight on if he could get some more healing.

Speaks had already begun his retreat but hearing that Ilrath would stand and fight, he hurried back to the melee, pulling out his pair of healing scrolls as he went. Krase yelled in frustration as none of the rest of the party was obeying his order to retreat. Deciding that he could no longer hold back the impervious gricks, he attempted to tumble past Ilrath and Rhys who crowded him from behind. Unfortunately he mistimed his attempt and tripped himself leaving him prone in front of the grick. Rhys was kind enough to drag him out of harm's way.

The first grick slithered forward to engage the barbarian again, but Ilrath was ready and slashed mightily at him with the feather-light rapier, leaving a deep gash in the creature's rubbery hide. A moment later, Rhys let fly with a ray of frost that was enough to send the creature into unconsciousness. Krase, still feeling powerless to do anything fled back up the corridor some distance to await the outcome of the battle. Speaks cast one of the healing scrolls at Ilrath and bolstered his pitifully weak health.

And a good thing too. A pair of tentacle slashes brought Ilrath to the brink of unconsciousness. The rapier tip dipped toward the ground as darkness began to creep into Ilrath's vision. But a second later, Speaks cast the second healing scroll and Ilrath slashed the life from the final grick as the healing power restored strength to his limbs. He took a few moments to hack at the carcasses to assure that the fearsome creatures were dead. Then the group followed Krase back to the mine to hole up and consider their next move.

(GM Note: Speaks and Krase had a lengthy argument about whether Krase should be giving orders to the rest of the party or whether each member should act in the way they see fit. I won't relate the entire thing here and it did not detract much from the fun of the evening as the argument was entirely in character. But suffice it to say that the two of them have different philosophies about how combat decisions should be made in the party. Krase ultimately decided that he would not attempt to give orders any more and Speaks has some doubts about Krase's reliability.)

The party once again found themselves battered and bruised and generally unable to continue without risking certain annihilation from the first kobold to happen by. Rather than have to retreat back beyond the grand stair again (and face another possible encounter with the stirges) the group opted to remain in the mine area since it appeared free of any predators and had no other exits.

They spent another long afternoon and night resting and healing by the light of some phosphorescent mushrooms they had gathered and generally wishing they had brought a deck of cards. Ilrath expresses that although he does not wish to jeopardize any of their lives by pressing on when they are wounded, he is starting to become afraid that every day they rest brings his people a day closer to possible destruction. It is agreed that the party will make all due haste toward finding any surviving dwarves and striking a bargain.

When they were again healed and ready to go, they proceeded back to the huge natural cavern and again followed the path of mine tailings south to the east-west path. This time they went west looking for any signs of the dwarves in that direction. In the distance ahead they spotted a low cliff rising from the cavern floor and in the dim light of the fungi, they spotted some stalactite shaped forms moving around on the ceiling above the cliff. Speaks with Stone was able to identify these creatures as "darkmantles" and the party opted not to ascend the cliff to avoid an encounter that they didn't think would bring them nearer to the dwarves.

They also spotted a set of stairs rising into the southern wall and beyond the stairs could hear the sound of rushing water. Krase made an attempt to locate any tracks near the stairs and although he found some curious markings, unlike any tracks he was familiar with, they were definitely not of dwarven make. The party decided to go back and investigate the iron door that Rhys had discovered earlier, which seemed to hold the most promise of having dwarves behind it.

As they cautiously made their way down the east-west path again, they noticed that the cavern wall the gricks had climbed down from was in fact a 20 foot cliff that led to a ledge above. Rhys, never one to let a potential treasure elude him, sent Tavis climbing up the wall to investigate. She reported the mangled corpse of an orc and a few scattered coins. That was all the encouragement that Rhys required and he quickly cast his spell of spider climbing and went up the wall to the ledge.

He located the orcish corpse which appeared fresh and furthermore, in a brilliant flash of memory (Natural 20 Intelligence check) he recognized the orc as the one who had fled during the "Groin of Fire" ™ incident. It appeared the orc had escaped certain humiliation and death from the flaming phallus to a far more noble and heroic death as a grick snack. Wasting little time on such sentimental reminisces, Rhys set about looting the ledge and scraped together a fair few silver and gold coins, leaving the copper for the orc to pay his way across the Styx.

He descended the cliff to the waiting party and they shortly found themselves back in front of the iron door. Seeing no other way around it and with lock picking not being one of Rhys' strongest talents, they opted to simply knock.

NEXT: Who iiiiis it?


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

As the party waits expectantly, Speaks with Stone can't help but notice that something is wiggling in his pocket and it isn't his hand.  He reaches in and withdraws the tiny struggling form of the stirge he put in there a couple of days ago.  He manages to keep a hold on the creature in such a way that it cannot bite him (in effect he "pinned" it - stirges have a 3 strength).  Ilrath offered to stomp it to death if Speaks would hurl it to the ground.  Speaks declined and instead attempted to communicate his good intentions via Animal Empathy.  His efforts seemed fairly ineffective and he excused himself to release the stirge back in the caverns to the north.

By the time he returned, nobody had answered their knock and Ilrath offered to knock more loudly.  The party agreed and Ilrath gave the door three firm thumps with the butt of his great axe.  They waited some more.

After half a minute, they heard the rattling of a key and as dwarf opened the door, muttering in orcish, "What is it now?" as he did so.  His eyes went wide with shock when he saw the party standing there and he attempted to slam the door shut, even as Krase gave a warm traditional dwarven welcome.  Ilrath managed to put his shoulder into the door and stick the blade of his axe in the doorway to prevent it's closure.  The dwarf beat a hasty retreat (provoking attacks of opportunity that the party decided not to take advantage of) while the party stood at the door.

"He's probably going to find someone with the authority to negotiate," said Rhys.

(??!)

The party again patiently waited as Krase warned them not to cross the threshold because it would be a violation of dwarven custom to enter without being welcomed (Someday I've got to put together a list of these made up "facts" his character spouts.).  Minutes went by as the party waited and became more and more uneasy about the whole situation.

Ilrath, who was standing a good ten feet back from the door, heard a noise behind him and whirled around, noticing a mushroom being flattened under an invisible boot.  "Foul trickery!" he yelled as he swung his great axe at the ambusher.  His axe glanced off something invisible as another voice called out, "Now!" in dwarven.

In less than a moment, a huge dwarf appeared next to Ilrath having fired a bolt from a crossbow at point blank range.  One after another these "giant" dwarves became visible until four of them had either fired crossbows or attacked with axes.  Totally taken off guard by this attack, the party withstood several wounds in the process, especially Ilrath.

The party launched a series of counterattacks at the dwarves - all of which missed.  As they did so, they could hear the sounds of even more dwarves moving amidst them invisibly.  The dwarves that were visible moved expertly into flanking positions around Ilrath and Krase and unleashed even more brutal strokes with their battle axes (These would have included a terrible critical hit on Krase but he decided to spend a Hero Point for a reroll and I rolled a miss the second time.).

Ilrath and Krase did manage to land some minor blows against the dwarves but things were looking very very bad for the party.  As Rhys stepped to the attack, he shouted, "I can't believe we killed half the orcish army trying to free these bastards!"  His attack also failed to find its mark.

Above the din of battle, Krase heard a female voice call out in dwarven from the passage beyond the iron door.  "Hold your attacks until I give further commands!"  Then in common, the same voice commanded, "Drop your weapons and step back and we can talk!"  Krase urged the party to accept the offer.  Nobody in the party dropped their weapons.  But except for Ilrath, they did step back.  Ilrath held his attack and then, after a few more moments, moved away to where the rest of the party stood.

A lengthy dialogue then ensued between Rhys and the invisible female who identified herself as Nimira.  Much was revealed and much was concealed during these discussions.  Rhys asked why the dwarves had allied with their traditional enemies, the orcs.  Nimira indicated that they had been suffering hard times and needed help in guarding the mountain.  The orcs were willing to do so in exchange for weapons to aid them against the barbarians.

Nimira was under the impression that the orcs must have misrepresented themselves because they had told her that they were certain to defeat the barbarians whom they vastly outnumbered.  She assumed that the barbarians had an army outside that had defeated the orcs at the mountain door and that the orcish army had been defeated.  How else could these barbarians be standing before her.

Rhys let her go on believing the majority of these falsehoods but did mention that most of the party members hailed from Glynden.  This seemed to convince Nimira even more that the orcs were defeated.  Her reasoning was that the orcs hadn't counted on involvement from the Northern Provinces of the Empire.

In response to the reason the party had come, Rhys told her that they had hoped the contact the dwarves to enlist their aid against the orcs and that when they found them "besieged" by orcs, they slew the orcs to release the dwarves.  Additionally, they were hoping to acquire some orc-slaying weapons to use to "finish driving the orcs back into the Blackpeaks".

To this, Nimira responded that she did not have enough men to spare in attacking the orcs but that she would make the same offer as she had to the orcs:  If the barbarians would guard the upper layers of the mountain, the dwarves could focus on mining and forging weapons to aid them.

Rhys said that he would have to send a message to the leaders of their "army" (cough cough) to determine if they would agree to such an arrangement.  He asked if, in the mean time, they might bargain for some of the orc-slaying weapons as a show of good faith on the part of the dwarves.

Nimira responded by saying that she gladly would if only she could.  But alas, the weapons they sought were out of reach for the moment.  She further explained that the majority of the weapons had been given as tribute to a dragon that dwelled in the caverns below their forges.  It seems that this dragon had moved in when she was but a whelp and the dwarves saw no problem with her staying since her presence tended to deter other creatures from the "Underdark" (to which there were passages connecting in the lower levels) from attacking the dwarves.  However, as time has gone on, the dragon has demanded more and more tribute to keep her satisfied.

Nimira knew of one other likely location for an orc-slaying weapon.  She told the party that long ago, one of their priests went mad and raised a number of their fallen warriors from the dead (an abomination to their faith, she said).  He was attacked by a number of the other dwarves but his undead minions struck them down.  The other dwarves had no choice but to barricade them into the chamber they occupied.  The undead still existed on the other side of that barricade and at least one of the dwarves who fought against the priest was thought to have an orc-slaying weapon.

Lastly, Nimira mentioned that she had struck a bargain with the dragon that her folk would not attack her if she left them alone.  That being the case, she offered that if the party could slay the dragon or destroy the undead that plagued her people, they could recover one or more of the orc-slaying weapons and aid her people in the process.

Taking all of this into consideration, Rhys and the party withdrew to consider their options.  None of them relished the thought of fighting a dragon or a bunch of undead.  However, they were committed to trying to retrieve the orc-slaying weapons and ultimately decided that they would tackle the undead first and then make a try for the dragon.

They conveyed this to Nimira who seemed pleased that she would likely soon be relieved of one of her problems: The Undead, the Dragon or the Party.  Rhys asked her if they had anything else in their possession that might aid them against the dragon or the undead.  She responded that she would not lend them any aid against the dragon as that was a violation of her oath but she would check and see if they had something that might prove effective against the undead.  She then asked if the party needed further time to prepare.  They said they did.

Before the party departs the negotiations, Nimira inquires if any of them are skilled at arcane magic.  Rhys replies that he is and Nimira gives him a scroll that one of her advisors has indicated might be helpful against the undead.  Unfortunately, after Rhys takes the scroll, he once again gets lost in conversation with Nimira and forgets to look at it until much, much later (after the fight with the undead).

The party spent the next couple days healing and brewing potions (Speaks was rapidly using up the ingredients given to him by Orthula).  Speaks also released the owl from his _Animal Friendship_ spell but asked that he perform a service and act as an _Animal Messenger_ to carry a note back to Rilaga.  The note indicated that the dwarves would not be coming to the aid of the barbarians but that they were making a try for the orc-slaying weapons.

As instructed, the party then returned and, once again, knocked on the door to the dwarven chambers where they would do battle with untold creatures of the unlife.

*NEXT:  Battle for the Shrine of Moradin*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

A lot of the way things went last session is probably evident given the backstory I just posted.  I just thought I'd add a bit more GM commentary to clarify some of the calls I made.

First of all, this encounter didn't go at all the way I envisioned it when I first decided to include the Forge of Fury in my campaign.  I had assumed that by this point, the party would be suspicious and mistrustful of the dwarves to attack them on sight.  Surely they would attack them when they realized that they were not at all like the dwarves they were used to from Glynden (you know, the ones that don't grow to 140% of normal size and go invisible).

But as things grew closer and closer to this point, I had to come to the conclusion that I should be prepared for the party to want to negotiate with the Duergar.  That was fine since the module specifically points out that Nimira is quite willing to negotiate instead of fight if it is in her benefit to do so.  Still, I thought it was pretty likely that the party would attack when they saw the dwarf who answered the door surprised and unhappy that they weren't orcs.

Obviously, they didn't.  At that point, I rolled a reaction roll for Nimira because I couldn't quite decide how I wanted her to respond.  I rolled low and therefore she decided to send her troops to attack invisibly.  The party was just standing there with their hands in their pockets.  Nimira's men were in perfect health and none had used their enlarge or invisibility for the day.  She wasn't going to get a better chance than this.  So they attacked the party.

As you could probably tell, things were going very poorly for the party and showed no signs of changing for the better.  The group had caused a total of about 6hps damage to the Duergar and suffered in excess of 30 points to themselves.  Less than half of the Duergar could be seen and their spellcaster hadn't used any of his spells yet.  I was pretty sure the party would be entirely killed or captured.  I didn't plan to fudge this.

But then, Rhys made that "I can't believe we killed half the orcish army to save these bastards!" comment (accompanied by a good bluff roll) and I decided to make a new reaction roll for Nimira.  I rolled high this time and she called off the attack until she could talk with the party.

Based on the information she now had, she believed that the barbarians had somehow defeated the orcs and that there must be a barbarian army nearby.  If these were their diplomats, it would cause her a lot of trouble in the future if she killed them.  She decided to talk.

Rhys did a good job of rolling well with diplomacy, bluff and sense motive rolls and Nimira was convinced that she needed to at least be civil.  After she told her story about only allying with the orcs out of desperate necessity (which was fairly true, actually) she set about trying to turn this situation to her advantage.  If she could get the barbarians to do guard duty for her, she would be in the same situation she had with the orcs (which she regarded as a good, if delicate, arrangement).  If she could get the party to destroy the undead and/or the dragon, that would be a nice bonus.

It did occur to her that the party might be exaggerating their defeat of the orcs but her only way to test this is to send a scout outside the mountain to see how big the barbarian army is.  The problems with accomplishing this are several.  First, she must assume that her scout can successfully make it past the party undetected.  The odds of this are good given their invisibility but she (skillfully) discovered that the party contains an arcane spellcaster who might be able to detect such a scout.  Second, she knows from talking to the orcs that it is wintertime outside the Stone Tooth.  If a scout goes down the path from the Mountain Door to seek out the army, he will leave tracks in the snow that could easily be discovered by the party or someone from the "army".

The other scouting option was for Snurrevin the wizard to use his familiar to scout.  This was not really an option because, as mentioned before, the Glitterhame has not been cleared of nasty critters and any one of them could easily gobble up Snurrevin's rat familiar.

So, Nimira is hoping that the party will be successful at destroying the undead (who the Duergar really are terrified of) and ultimately slaying Nightscale so that she no longer has to give tribute to her.

As for a few of the features that you are missing if you've played the module already, I've changed things considerably.  The Troglodytes are gone.  They didn't fit into the scenario well at all for me.  I replaced them with some other nasty creatures but the party hasn't gone into that area yet (and may never).  I also ditched Mr. Roper which frankly was a rather dumb encounter put in only to teach a lesson that my players already know.  The northern halls of the foundry (with the exception of the shrine) are clear of undead and the Succubus isn't there either.  I also got rid of the animated furniture.

These changes take away a bit of the variety in the module, I know.  But they seemed to clash with the mood and feel I was trying to present, not to mention the story.

Anyhow, I hope this extra information has been helpful in explaining why the past couple encounters have gone as they did.  I'll post the Battle for the Shrine of Moradin on Monday.  And next week the party meets their first dragon!

Stay tuned!


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Battle for the Shrine of Moradin*

After a couple of minutes, the large iron door swung open and the party was greeted by a foursome of dwarves.  They noticed that these were of normal size and not as invisible as before.  One of the dwarves instructed the party to follow them up the stairs.

At the top of a long flight of stairs the party came into a sizable octagonal room with three large statues of dwarves holding axes that flanked a pair of doors.  Instead of going through one of the doors, one of the dwarves did something to the ankle of one of the statues and a secret door behind the statue popped open.

Beyond the secret door was a huge room the depths of which could not be seen with the available light.  The party was escorted a very short distance to the northern wall where there was an alcove in which rested an odd contraption.

Closer inspection showed a door in the alcove but it was blocked by a barricade that could only have been conceived by the most paranoid of minds.  Blocking the door was a stack of stone blocks one foot by one foot by seven feet.  Holding the blocks against the door was another similar block stood upright.  Two sets of great iron hinges were fastened to this block by a long iron pin.  Clearly whatever was behind the door was greatly feared by the dwarves and this caused many a nervous glance between the party members.

The dwarf who had led the party up the stairs asked if they were ready to enter.  They replied that they were.  The dwarf snapped his fingers and out of the darkness of the hall strode two giant sized dwarves (just over 6 feet tall).  These large dwarves began to disassemble the barricade.

As they did so, the dwarf they followed in told the party that after the barricade was removed, the party should hurry through the door and it would be closed behind them.  If they did not come out in ten minutes, they would be assumed dead and the barricade would be replaced.  The party told him that they would give a password to him and would repeat it if they needed to come out.  For some reason the password the party chose was "camembert" (Ah, yes, of course.  French cheese is your password.  Why am I friends with these people again?).

At last all of the stone blocks had been removed and the party moved into the alcove to prepare their assault.  Having quickly been flanked in the battle with the dwarves earlier, they had decided on a buddy system.  Ilrath and Rhys would stick together as would Speaks and Krase.  That way they could defend each other and possibly even manage a flank of their own.  Also they had a pair of torches going but to assure that they didn't lose their light sources, Rhys and Speaks each cast a spell on one of the torches to make sure they continued to give off light even if the torch was extinguished.  

They opened the door and had a quick look around the large room.  It was big enough that they could only see the central portion clearly with the corners remaining shadowy.  Ilrath was the first in and as he moved inside he noticed several piles of bones stir and begin to form into skeletons.  Rhys was quick behind Ilrath, moving to back up the barbarian.  Krase was next into the room and paused long enough to throw his torch into the part of the room opposite the skeletons to assure that no enemies were approaching from that side.  Speaks and Arc came in last with Speaks' long spear protruding over the head of his canine companion.  As the skeletons continued to pop up from the ground and advance on the party it was time for Arc to go to work against his natural enemy: Bones!

As the first skeletons began to advance, a squat figure in a breastplate rose from the dimly lit altar at the end of the room and moved toward the closest figure - Ilrath.  The other skeletons wore chainmail and wielded war hammers.  They closed on Krase, Speaks and Arc and began to attack.  As usual, Arc took the first blow but he didn't cower.  Instead he bit back at the walking chew-toy of a skeleton that faced him and managed to bite through a couple ribs.  He secretly plotted to bury them outside later.

Speaks attacked over Arc's head but having to assure that he didn't hit his friend threw his aim off.  Krase slashed away with his short swords and shattered one of the first skeletons.  Ilrath prepared for the attack of the undead cleric and as it stepped into range he slashed it with his greataxe.

The skeletons hammered away at Arc, Speaks and Krase but inflicted only an occasional small hit.  Arc bit once again and this time the skeleton was shattered.  Speaks thrust at another one and although he connected this time, the point of his spear inflicted only minor damage to the skeleton.  Krase made another series of chops with his short swords and another skeleton fell.  Rhys fired a frosty ray at the cleric, adding insult and minor injury.

The cleric slashed at Ilrath with his claw-like hands but found no purchase on his chainmail.  In return, Ilrath made a wide sweep with his greataxe, catching a nearby skeleton who was smashed to flinders before bringing the blade around to bury itself again in the rotting hide of the undead cleric.  Rhys stepped up within reach of the cleric and let loose a gout of flame from his trusty wand.

Speaks with Stone thrust his spear again and this time managed to score a more telling blow to the skeleton he fought although it still stood.  Arc missed with his bite and Krase landed but one short sword on his next opponent.  A couple of war hammer blows found their marks on Krase but he took little damage from them.

The undead cleric again slashed at Ilrath and again couldn't penetrate his armor.  But Ilrath answered with another mighty blow from his axe that brought low the dwarven ex-holy-man.  Ilrath and Rhys watched as the hideous form of the undead creature took on a silvery nimbus and for a moment they saw the face of the dwarf he once was.  The glowing face of the dead dwarf muttered a short phrase that neither the barbarian nor the sorcerer understood and then turned to dust.

Moments later, Speaks with Stones' spear and Krase's short swords finished off the remaining skeletons and the party found themselves alone in the room.  Surprisingly, they had fared quite well with only minor injuries.

They quickly set about searching for treasure and made several discoveries.  The room they were in was clearly some kind of shrine and Krase identified the symbol on the wall as that of Moradin.  That same symbol appeared on the breastplate of the undead cleric.  A bit more searching revealed another skeleton of the non animated variety laying behind the altar.  This one also wore a breastplate and near to hand lay a battle axe.  Both axe and breastplate proved to be made of a particularly light silvery metal that was harder than steel.

The boys from the silver mining town of Glynden looked wide-eyed at each other because that metal could only be the fabled "mithril".  Rhys cast a spell to look for magic and the battle axe proved magical to boot.  Krase read some dwarven runes carved onto the side of the blade and determined that the weapon was called "Slashbane" and it was the scourge of orcs.  Rhys noted that there was a forgemark on the blade and that it was the same as the forgemark on both breastplates.

Rhys also noticed a faint magical aura coming from where the undead cleric had fallen and found a pendant on a chain that was magical.  The pendant was in the shape of a hammer and the pommel of the hammer was a pearl that was emanating the magic.

The party took a couple more minutes to completely search the room and then collected both breastplates, the pendant and the battle axe.  Then they knocked on the door and said, "camembert".  The door was opened and they exited back into the large hall they had entered from.  Off in the darkness, the voice of Nimira could be heard and she thanked them for dealing with the undead.  She asked if they wished to make a try for the dragon and they told her that they would need a couple days to prepare first.  Nimira bade them farewell and looked forward to their return to deal with Nightscale.

As they were escorted back to the Glitterhame, Rhys happened to note the forgemark on the axe of one of the dwarves.  It was quite different from that on the items found in the shrine.  Interesting…

*NEXT:  The Dragon*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

(Note:  Before we began this session, I knew that this would likely be the toughest battle the party had yet faced.  They were prepared but, face it, dragons are just nasty.  Also, not a single player had yet made it above 3rd level.  Nonetheless, I decided to run with things and let the chips fall where they may.  I made all the attack rolls for Nightscale right out on the table with my jumbo sized d20 so the players could tell I wasn't fudging things for or against them.  I thought there was a pretty good possibility that folks were going to be rolling some new characters by the end of the night.  Here's what happened…)

The party again made camp in the Glitterhame and prepared to do battle with the dragon.  Ilrath ventured up to the top level and retrieved the large steel shield that one of the orcs had been using.  He was not normally given to excessive armor but this was a dragon after all.  He also decided to don the bulky and uncomfortable breastplate they had recovered from the dwarven priest.  Krase opted to wear the mithril breastplate.

Speaks brewed a couple more healing potions and readied some spells to help the party resist the acidic breath of the dragon.  He cast these spells on Krase and Ilrath before bedding down.  After he awoke and again communed for his daily spells, he cast another pair of these on himself and Rhys.  Thus protected and with their weapons at the ready, the party again knocked on the door and it was soon answered by the same dwarf who had escorted them previously.

He took them up into the throne room again but this time they were taken through a different door on the northern wall.  Beyond it was a chamber with a cistern in the middle and a hallway extending east and west.  They were taken down the hall to the east past many other doors and eventually entered another chamber with a cistern.  A second dwarf stood by an opened secret door on the south side of the room that led to a narrow hallway.  In the distance the party could hear the sound of rushing water.

Their escort informed them that at the end of the hall they would find a ledge.  Below that ledge was a ladder leading to the Black Lake.  There they would find Nightscale and her hoard.  He also told them firmly that a hallway branched off the main hall to the right.  The party was to go straight, not to the right.

The group proceeded down the hall and stuck to the straight passage (In spite of the fact that Krase and Rhys desperately wanted to check out the right hand passage.  They didn't because the dwarven escort stood only 20 feet behind them holding the door open.  At the end of the hall they found a door constructed in the same way as most of the secret doors they had encountered.  They readied themselves with Rhys casting his mystical armor spell and opened the door.  On the other side was a wide ledge some 15 feet deep and then a large cavern that extended down into darkness.  From off to the right they could see the dim orange light from the dwarven forges, which also apparently overlooked this chasm.  A stream obviously flowed through the forgeworks and ended in a waterfall down into the pit.

The ladder was quickly located and appeared to be a chain ladder with iron rungs across it and was anchored to the side of the pit every 20 feet or so.  Speaks took one of the glowing fungus stalks he had brought from the Glitterhame and dropped it down the pit.  It drifted downward for a few moments and then stopped.  The pit was estimated at somewhere between 50 and 100 feet deep.

Seeing no way to get the wolf down the ladder, Speaks orders Arc to guard the door at the ledge.  He figures that way at least the dwarves won't be able to lock it behind them.  One by one, they descended the ladder.

At the bottom of the ladder (which turned out to descend 80 feet) they found themselves on another ledge by the edge of an underground river.  Two separate bridges crossed from the ledge they occupied to different ledges across the river.  The party had been afraid to use any illumination brighter than the fungus for fear that the dragon would easily spot it.  But it was becoming clear that they were going to need more light.

About that time, Krase and Rhys heard a distinct splashing noise to the east where the underground stream seemed to flow out of a larger body of water.  Everyone tensed for a few moments.  Then a voice, somehow feminine and at the same time otherworldly, came out of the darkness.

"Greetings, nephew.  I thought I smelled another of my mother's brood."

All eyes turned to Rhys who tried his best to look innocent.

"Come to rob me of my treasure, eh?  No doubt invited in by those greedy and ungrateful *Duergar*."  (Yep, she used the D word.  I had Krase make an intelligence check to recall anything his dwarven grandfather mentioned about Duergar and he rolls a 20.  So I gave him a brief but insightful sketch of how other dwarves felt about the Duergar and what kind of natural abilities they had.)

Speaks replied, "Um, no.  We're not here to rob you." (Bluff roll: 3)

"Your lies are wasted on me.  Tell me of the deal you struck with the stinking Grey Dwarves and I will let one of you live."

Speaks stage whispered to Rhys, "Make a counter offer!"

Rhys spoke for the first time, "We do wish some of your treasure but we would be willing to bargain.  We desire some of the weapons the dwarves gave you that are adept at killing orcs."

"So you are allied with the barbarians to the south, are you?"

"Yes," replied Rhys tenatively.

"That's all I need to know."  Then silence.

Anxious moments passed as the party continued to listen.  Krase, Ilrath and Rhys began to spread out across the ledge toward the direction where her voice had been coming from.  Krase nocked an arrow and prepared to fire at anything that looked like a dragon.  Rhys loaded his crossbow.  Ilrath stood there looking menacing.

And then Nightscale sprang from the inky waters, not confronting the warriors arrayed at the other end of the ledge but attacking the rear of the party where Speaks stood.  She let out a roar and then spat a forceful stream of acid on the druid.  His spell protected him for the most part but he still withstood minor burns from the dark, stinging fluid.

Rhys was the first to recover from this shock and whirled around, firing his crossbow.  His bolt struck home and sank into the obsidian scales of the dragon which he could now see was the size of a pony - a razor clawed, acid-spitting pony of death that is.  If the dragon was wounded by the bolt, she certainly didn't show it.

Ilrath reacted next and ran to put himself between the steely jaws of the beast and his friend the druid.  He held his new battle axe at the ready, waiting to strike if the dragon came within reach.  Behind him, Speaks called upon the powers of nature and suddenly the dragon was limned in green fire (In many ways, this was the "Play of the Game").  Although the fire did not burn the dark scales of the beast, it made her easily visible to the entire party.

As the dragon burst into emerald flames, Krase turned and released his arrow in one fluid motion.  But his aim was slightly off and his arrow skipped off her scales and sailed harmlessly into the darkness.  Krase then dropped his bow and drew his twin swords as he closed the distance to the dragon.

Rhys fired again at the dragon but this time his aim was off and, like Krase's shot, the bolt failed to dig into the dragon's hide.

Nightscale was angered by the sting of the bolt the sorcerer had fired but was even more angered by the druid's spell.  It made it impossible for her to employ her favorite stalking tactic of moving unseen underwater to spring out and use her acid breath.  Also, the druid seemed somehow resistant to her acid.  She would show him that it was not her only weapon.  That puny leather jerkin he wore would shred ever so easily beneath her razor talons and rending teeth.  But to get to him she needed first to dispose of that stinking barbarian.  How she would enjoy killing him for the way his kind had driven her from the surface a decade ago.

She lunged forward out of the water and onto the ledge.  As she did, Ilrath brought down his new axe and it sliced through scales into the flesh beneath, but inflicted only the smallest of wounds.  He grimaced as the dragon bore down on him…and then somehow managed to dodge or deflect each of her attacks (bite, 2 claws and wings - didn't roll above a 7).

Ilrath saw Krase coming out of the corner of his eye and stepped to the side to make room as he swung again with his axe, striking her again with slightly better results.  A moment later he realized that this put him between the dragon and the river and one false step would send him plunging into the icy waters.

Speaks cast a spell at the dragon that might momentarily blind or distract her but she saw it coming and easily resisted his efforts.  Krase stepped forward and sliced at her scaly hide with his swords.  One found its mark and further wounded the dragon.

Rhys maneuvered to get a clear shot at the dragon since she was now blocked by Ilrath, Krase and Speaks.  He leapt a short ways onto one of the bridges near the bottom of the ladder but stumbled slightly as he landed.  He loaded his crossbow and readied to fire again.

Nightscale was even more angry now but she realized that some caution was required.  Clearly the magic this group of fools possessed was no match for her, merely an annoyance.  Their warriors were where she would need to concentrate her efforts.  The barbarians had managed a lucky swing with his axe but the warrior with the pair of swords moved gracefully.  He was likely her biggest threat.

She lunged for him with far better results than with the barbarian her teeth made a satisfying crunch as they drove into his shoulder (critical but for relatively low damage) and both of her claws slashed into his upper legs.  This one would soon be dead.

Ilrath saw Krase get mauled and desperately hacked at the dragon but his axe glanced off her scales and clanged harmlessly off the stone ledge.  Speaks also saw what happened and reached over to Krase using one of his healing spells to halt the worst of his bleeding.  Krase knew that another such attack would be the death of him and took a step back before drinking one of his healing potions.

Rhys fired his crossbow again, scoring another strike against his kin.  He knew that his bolts alone would never slay the beast, however.  He desperately hoped that the warriors would start to deal some more powerful wounds soon.

Nightscale was heartened to see that the lithe warrior hovered on deaths door.  She had sustained a couple more wounds but she saw a way to hasten the demise of this gang of fools.  The warrior with the pair of swords had stepped back, putting him in a perfect line with the barbarian.  She smiled inwardly as she felt the acid rise in her throat and spat forth an absolute flood of corrosive death on the pair of warriors.  (Her breath weapon did 6d4 damage.  I rolled and got MAX damage!  That's right, 6 4's - 24 points of damage to both of them!  Then they rolled their saves and BOTH made it, cutting damage to half!  With the 12 points of acid resistance they had, they took NO damage from a MAX damage breath weapon!)

Sensing the calamity that had just been narrowly avoided, Ilrath swung with renewed vigor at the dragon, hoping to distract her from attacking Krase again.  But his axe again found no purchase on the slick, black scales of his adversary. Ilrath howled in frustration and he could feel the rage rising in him.  He fought it down, knowing that when he raged he would make a far easier target.  But he couldn't hold back the tide of anger forever.

Speaks decided that his magic was little match for this powerful a foe and tried to stab the dragon with his spear.  Unsurprisingly the tough scales turned aside his spearpoint.

Krase bravely stepped to the fore and sliced at the hideous beast with his trusty blades, still dripping with acid from her last attack.  Being skilled in defensive fighting, he focussed most of his concentration on fending off the dragon but he was fortunate.  Again, one of his blades sank its point between her scales and wounded her.  The hatred he saw in her eyes bode ill for his future.

Rhys fired again from his vantage on the bridge but this time his bolt sailed wide.  He was having to maneuver to shoot around the melee combatants and he was becoming frustrated.  He looked around for a better position but finding none, he reloaded his crossbow with resignation.

Nightscale was astonished that the warriors were able to withstand the most inspired stream of acid she had ever spouted and was beginning to get worried.  The group had now pinned her into a corner and she needed to kill at least one of them to win her way free.  She could then hide in one of the deeper caverns until the druid's blasted fire spell wore off.  She focused her gaze on the wounded warrior with the twin swords.  He would be her easiest prey.

But as she attacked, he wove a defensive shield around himself with his blinding swords.  Only one of her claws found its mark but it dug deep.  The warrior had little fight left in him.  She needed only dodge the blade of the barbarian once more and this intruder would be dead.

Ilrath gritted his teeth and drew his axe back again.  Krase was holding on as well as he could but he would be dead if the dragon struck again.  With a mighty howl, he swung the dwarven forged blade of mithril and it sank deep, deep into the flank of the dragon (Crit for 28 damage).  The beast howled in pain as he ripped the blade free of her ribcage.

Speaks again struck with his spear but to no avail.  He was heartened to see, however, what he suspected might be the first glint of fear in the eyes of the dragon.

Krase was reeling and on the verge of unconsciousness.  He could see that Ilrath's blow had sorely wounded the dragon but he felt he must draw back and drink another potion.  Rhys was able to fire a more direct shot now that Krase had stepped back and was rewarded with his bolt striking home.

Nightscale was nearly blinded with pain and fury.  She hated admitting that these foul allies of the barbarians had bested her.  But it was reality.  As she had once before when caught and nearly killed by the barbarians, she needed to flee and wreak vengeance on these scum another day.  The wounded warrior had moved out of her way and she only needed to slip into the murky waters of the Black Lake to find solace and refuge.

As she lunged between Speaks and Ilrath, Speaks jabbed at her with his spear, wounding her slightly for the first time and adding insult to her long list of injuries.  But it was Ilrath who would have the final insult.

As the dragon leaned over to dive into the inky waters, he brought his axe across her neck with such force that her head was severed and tumbled through the air to land on the ledge (Second Crit in the same round, thanks to AoO.  Oddly enough, the exact same rolls - 20 followed by 15 and the exact same damage - 28 points.).

The ponderous body of the dragon began to tumble into the river by it's own momentum but Krase, Speaks and Ilrath wrestled it back onto the ledge.  They sat on the bank of the dark waters of the river and looked at the dragon corpse with stunned admiration.

Final Tally:
Krase had 7hp left after drinking 2 potions of CLW.
Speaks had taken 4hp damage from the first acid spray.
Ilrath - Untouched
Rhys - Untouched
Rel - Stunned

*NEXT:  Looting and Leaving*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

Speaks cast a few minor healing spells to bring Krase back from the brink and the group began to organize a search for Nightscale's hoard.  Feeling quite a bit of pride at slaying the dragon, they cast an illumination spell on the severed head of the dragon and bore it as a standard to light their way.

Krase led the group, closely followed by Ilrath with Rhys and Speaks trailing.  Noting that the dragon had approached from the east, the group made for the easternmost bridge that crossed the swift underground river.  As Krase and Ilrath mounted the bridge, it suddenly crumbled beneath their feet and both of them plunged into the icy waters of the subterranean river.  As they fell, they were struck by stones falling from the remains of the bridge and as if that weren't enough, both of them were wearing heavier armor than normal.

As the current swiftly rushed them downstream, Speaks reacted in a flash.  He ran to the western (downstream) bridge and thrust the haft of his longspear into the black waters.  As the warriors struggled to stay afloat under the weight they carried, both managed to grab hold of the spear.  It was all Speaks could do to keep his hold on the spear as both large men hung from it, pulled by the weight of their equipment and the rushing stream.

Krase still held the glowing dragon head in one hand, having dropped one of his heirloom short swords into the swift waters already.  He attempted to toss the head onto the nearby ledge but the stream dragged his arm and Nightscale's head bounced off the wall and sank into the stream.  The cavern grew dimmer as the light from their trophy dimmed and floated away to the west.

Ilrath was able to lunge out and grip hold of the bridge and pull himself to the opposite ledge.  Krase got close enough to the other ledge that he could grab the outstretched hand of Rhys.  Soon, he was out of the water as well.  They sat for a few minutes by the stream marveling at the irony of how easily they had defeated the dragon only to lose their trophy and a cherished weapon not to mention be nearly killed by a simple stream.  They picked themselves up and resumed their search.

This time, they made use of Rhys' _Spider Climb_ spell to negotiate the cavern.  In that way, they were able to circumvent the areas where the ledge that hugged the southern wall of the cavern abruptly ended and resumed beyond a vertical section of wall that lacked any ledge.  After a few minutes, they arrived at another ledge and at the edge of the illumination provided by an ensorceled crossbow bolt, they could see a small island in the Black Lake that glittered with steel and gold.

Acting quickly, they set up a relay of ropes and sacks to ferry the treasure off the island and onto the ledge.  They managed to get all of it before Rhys' spells expired.  The now found themselves stranded on the ledge with no way to get back to the chain ladder to the dwarven forge without climbing along the slippery cavern walls.

They decided to rest and wait and return when Rhys could provide his magic again.  They had already had a harrowing experience with falling into the cold waters of this underground world once that day.  None wished to repeat that experience.

In fact, Krase and Ilrath being wet and cold was becoming a real problem.  They had no dry clothing to change into and were shivering quite a bit.  The prospect of spend a night in the cold cavern in wet clothes wasn't merely unpleasant, it was dangerous.  A decision was made to start a small fire using the last pair of torches they had as well as the bow and arrows that the group had badgered Ilrath into bringing along (which he hadn't used at all).  With nothing else to do but rest, and still lacking a deck of cards, the group decided to catalogue the treasure they had gotten from Nightscale's hoard.

In total, the treasure included 565gp, 1,430sp, a Wand, a mithral chain shirt, a mithral breastplate a rather matted and smelly suit of hide armor and seven mithral, weapons.  The wand, the hide armor and all the mithral weapons were identified as magical.  Rhys decided to use their magical candle to identify the wand, the hide armor and the gladius.

The wand turned out to contain the _Color Spray_ spell and had been expended of just over half its charges.  The hide armor was enchanted to provide the wearer with additional "natural" protection.  The gladius was enchanted to slay orcs.  It bore the name (inscribed along its blade in dwarven runes) "Heartneedle".  Krase happily claimed it in place of the sword he lost in the river.  Speaks claimed the hide armor and made a note to use his minor magics of _Repair_ and _Purify Water_ to rid it of its foul smell.

Krase made a point to examine the other weapons and was able to identify their names by the runes on them:  Longsword - "Foespike", Greataxe - "Fangcleaver", Light Mace - "Skullhammer", Heavy Mace - "Banemaul", Heavy Flail - "Deathrattle", and Battle Axe - "Doomhack".  They strongly suspected that these were also of an orc-slaying nature. 

Krase then revealed to the group that he had recognized the name "Duergar" the dragon had used in reference to the dwarves who dwelled above.  He told them the tales his grandfather had told about this particularly callous and cold offshoot of the dwarven race.  He chastised himself for not earlier recalling the natural abilities of enlargement and invisibility that race possessed.  From the stories of his grandfather, he noted that while the Duergar were self serving and hard hearted, they were not particularly known as oathbreakers.  Krase felt that they would hold to their end of the bargain, at least as long as they thought it was in their interest.

Ilrath had a gut inclination to slaughter the lot of them for aiding the orcs before and he also knew that once the orcs returned to the Stone Tooth, the Duergar would aid them again.  But he conceded that there would be other days to deal with the Duergar and right now the most important thing was to get these weapons back to his people where they could be put to good use.

Speaks and Rhys both felt that restraint was in order.  But, once he recovered his spells, Rhys did send Tavis to scout the forge above to see if the Duergar lay in ambush.  In fact, they did seem braced for an attack (and appeared tired from having been on alert for a long time).  But the party reasoned that they were simply on guard in the event that Nightscale defeated the party and sought revenge on the dwarves.  Still, after the party had regrouped on the ledge at the bottom of the chain ladder, they used the remainder of the _Spider Climb_ spell to quietly scale the wall instead of using the noisy ladder.

At the top, they found Arc, faithfully waiting.  Speaks rewarded him with a large hunk of venison jerky from his provisions and the group moved back up the narrow hallway.  As they came to the "forbidden" fork that the dwarves had cautioned them to avoid, Rhys couldn't help himself and quietly snuck down that hall.  After on 20 feet or so, it came to the back of another secret door.  He listened at the door but heard nothing beyond.  Knowing that he was holding a very obvious light source and afraid of angering the dwarves this close to completing their mission, he relented and returned to the party.  (If only he knew what treasures lay beyond that door…)

The group exited through the door at the end of the corridor and retraced their steps back through the dwarven lair.  They were nearing the throne room when a duergar opened a door along the hallway and gazed with disbelief at the party.  "They live!" he was heard to exclaim.

Ignoring this dwarf, the party continued through the throne room and back into the room of statues.  Behind them they heard the sound of cheering dwarven voices.  They took that as a good sign.  The descended the stairs with hopes of quickly making their way through the Glitterhame and out the Mountain Door.  But before them stood the stout iron door that blocked their way to freedom.  Rhys tried to pick the lock but it was clearly beyond his abilities.

Then, behind them a voice called down the stairs saying, "Come back up.  Nimira wishes a word with you before you leave…"

*NEXT:  Final Encounter with the Duergar - Words or Swords*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

The group cautiously ascended the stairs back into the throne room.  As they went, a quick conversation was conducted in Gnollish (a language shared by Speaks, Krase and Rhys but not by Ilrath or the Duergar).  Speaks urged Rhys to be generous with the dwarves when it came to the money.  He also mentioned that Rhys should warn the Duergar that the "combined forces of Glynden and the Fodor barbarians" (i.e. the party) would need to "withdraw from the region" in order to "secure the rest of the barbarian lands against the remaining orcs."  As a result, the mountain could fall back into the hands of the orcs before reinforcements could be spared to help guard the upper levels.

All of that was technically true.  But whether Rhys could bring himself to say it with a straight face was yet to be seen.

In a few moments, they found themselves before Nimira.  She questioned them about their success with Nightscale, whether they recovered the weapons they were after, what else her hoard consisted of and why they were leaving so abruptly.

Rhys answered that the dragon was defeated with relative ease, that they had recovered the weapons they sought and that they had realized how long they had spent in the mountain and needed to get the weapons back to their leadership so that they could be employed against the orcs.  With regards to the treasure, Rhys turned over all of the silver and most of the gold to Nimira.  He additionally mentioned that they had left behind the corpse of Nightscale (minus the head) for the dwarves to deal with as they saw fit.  Ilrath handed over the (non-mithril) breastplate he recovered from the shrine.

Rhys made it a point to mention that this was in excess of the third of the treasure that they strictly owed the dwarves per their agreement (it also completely discounted the value of the armor and the wand they recovered - Sense Motive check for Nimira).  But in light of the fact that it would be some time before the people of the Glynden-Fodor alliance could return to resume trade, they wished to do whatever they could to foster the goodwill of the dwarves.

Nimira was happy at the treasure distribution (She has no skill at Sense Motive and Rhys is quite good at Bluff) but still wanted promises of when she could expect help from the Glynden-Fodor men to aid in guarding her caverns.  Rhys offered no concrete terms and could only say that they would discuss the matter with the leaders of the alliance as soon as possible.  He also urged her to be on guard against any "wandering orcs" who had escaped the notice of the alliance army.

With these vague promises, considerable distortions of the truth and a sprinkling of outright lies, the party bade Nimira good luck and goodbye.  They were escorted beyond the iron door and through the Glitterhame by a pair of Duergar who were on their way to take up watch at the archer gallery in the Mountain Door.

When the party arrived back at the entrance, they discovered it was early afternoon and that if they hurried, they could make it to the base of the mountain by dark.  But, Krase wanted to make one more inspection of the items they had cached from the orcs to see if any of them were of exceptional quality.  He spent somewhat over a quarter hour doing this before the group departed the Mountain Door and began their descent.

There were several inches of snow on the path down the mountain and footing was treacherous.  Krase slipped once but managed to catch himself before he plummeted over the cliff edge and fell 80 feet to the next ledge down.

As they made their way down the various loops and switchbacks of the trail, they came around the northern side of the mountain to an unwelcome sight below.  In the dimness of twilight, Rhys spotted an encampment of some two to three score orcs in the valley below.  They were camped fairly close to the bottom of the trail and were breaking camp as the group watched.

They knew that it was impossible to reach the bottom of the trail before the orcs got there.  They were trapped between the orcs and the Mountain Door.  None of them wanted to place their fate in the hands of Nimira again.  They hurried down the trail further until they were on the opposite face of the mountain.  If they descended any further, they would find themselves on a series of switchbacks where any descent would put them in the path of the orcs.

On the eastern face of the mountain they were as close to the valley floor as they could get but there was no path down.  They would be forced to do a hasty, dangerous rappel down as steep (approximately 60 degree), sporadically snow covered, cliff face, in the dark while tired with little climbing expertise among the party.  Rhys' spells were not an option since they party had not rested since awakening in the Black Lake.

A brief search discovered a ledge, large enough for the party to use as a halfway point, 85 feet down the face.  70 feet below that was the ground.  Ilrath volunteered to belay the others and then free climb down by himself since he was the only one with any real skill at climbing.  Krase went first and was successful at making the ledge.  Rhys followed and also made it safely.  About this time, it dawned on Speaks that Arc would have a tough time managing climbing down the rope (what with no thumbs and all).  He tied the end of the rope to the wolf and then he and Ilrath let it out slowly to allow Arc to "walk" down the cliff.

After Arc was a short distance down, Speaks followed, knowing that the orcs couldn't be far away now.  As he and Arc neared the ledge, Speaks slipped.  He made a desperate grab for the rope but his cold numbed hands failed him.  He began to slide and then tumble down the steep face.  He fell all the way to the bottom.  Worse still, Arc panicked as Speaks fell by and managed to pull free from the poorly tied harness.  He too went cartwheeling down the mountain.

Miraculously, both survived, but there was little time for celebration.  As Ilrath made it down to the ledge, he, Rhys and Krase heard voices from above.  The orcs had rounded the mountain.  The three young men hugged the cliff face, hoping to escape the notice of the orcs.  But their trail too obviously ended at the edge of the cliff and moments later, some of the orcs spotted the trio huddled next to the steep wall.

With their cover blown, all three began a rapid descent as the orcs hurriedly readied missile weapons and began to fire at them.  This was especially bad because the two warriors had removed their new mithril breastplates to facilitate their descent.  Fortunately (as far as that word applies to this situation) the best line of fire was at Rhys who still wore the practically non-encumbering mithril chain shirt.  He still took a couple of arrows but managed to survive until he worked his way into a narrow crevasse that hid him from the orcs.

The three of them made it to the bottom without taking the "express ride" as had Speaks and Arc.  But as they observed from below, they could make out dimly that nearly half of the orcs had turned around and begun descending the trail on the mountainside.

The group was now tired, battered, without spells, without shelter, in knee deep snow and had, at most, a handful of hours before a score of orcs would be on top of them.  In other words, things were about like normal.

*NEXT:  A Risky Gamble*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

Several ideas were tossed around as to how the group could avoid or prevail against the score of orcs headed their way.  None seemed particularly promising.  But it was then suggested that the group split up.  After all, the orcs could only follow one set of tracks unless they too decided to split up.  At least that way, some of the party would likely survive to bring some of the orc slaying weapons back to Rilaga.

Rhys and Krase would stick together and strike a course to the east and then turn south.  Ilrath would head northeast and ultimately turn south, counting on his greater speed to allow him to make a larger circuit than the boys from Glynden.  Speaks would head south, back to their former campsite at the base of the mountain.  From there, he would try to stomp a large path in the snow that might fool the orcs into thinking the entire party went that way.  Then he could use his ability to leave no tracks at all to disappear entirely.  They would all try to meet up at the remorhaz cave at dawn.

They shook hands briefly before parting, knowing that if fortune didn't favor them, this could be the last time they saw each other.  And then they set off, making as good a speed as possible in the deep snow.

Now that they were without the benefit of Speaks' spells to help them resist the elements, they found themselves struggling against a bitter cold.  One by one, they began to feel the cold creep into their feet, hands and faces.  As tired as they were from their hasty descent of the mountain, it was nothing compared to the bone numbing weariness that overtook them now.  As midnight came and went, it was all they could do to keep picking up and putting down their feet.

(All of them failed Fortitude saves and began to succumb to hypothermia.  They began losing temporary strength, dexterity and constitution for every 4 hour period during which they couldn't get warmed up.)

Krase's sense of nature and the surrounding terrain helped guide him back to the pair of rocky ridges between which lay the cave.  An hour or so before dawn, he and Rhys dragged their weary and numb bodies into the cave.  They immediately set about trying to make a fire with whatever bits of wood lay near the cave entrance.

A short while later, Ilrath made it to the cave.  He seemed in better shape than the others but the crust of ice in his beard showed that his night had not been easy.  He had been carrying the majority of the weight from the orc bane weapons.  He helped gather a bit more wood from the area to bolster the tiny fire.  The group lamented that the orcs might see the smoke and use it to locate them but that couldn't be helped.  They had to get warm.

Another couple of hour had passed before Speaks showed up.  He explained that he had left a long false trail before angling for the cave.  He and Rhys wasted little time with pleasantries and both went to sleep by the fire.  Ilrath and Krase traded guard duty until late afternoon when the Rhys and speaks awoke and were ready with their spells again.

Speaks fortified everyone with his spells so that, once again, they could shrug off the worst effects of the bitter cold.  He then employed a spell to allow the group to move over the snow without leaving tracks.  While that spell was in effect, the group made an effort to move at top speed to put as much distance between themselves and their previous camp as possible.

Speaks cast that spell a couple more times after that and the party decided that if the orcs could still find them after putting more than two hours of distance between themselves and their last tracks, there was little more they could do about it.  They needed more rest.  They made camp in the woods beyond the edge of the glacial valley.

NEXT:  The Heroes Return.  But to What?


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

In the morning, they felt better rested and ready to move on.  As they traveled, they made it a point to use another of the spells to conceal their tracks whenever they crossed a stream.  This, they felt, would further confound any attempts to pursue them.

They soon came across one of the northern Nervii villages.  Unsurprisingly it was abandoned as it had been on their way north.  The group continued south.  As they traveled, they began to cross tracks in the snow indicating orcs had been in the area.  It appeared that they were moving in groups of 12-20.  The implications of this were dire.

As they stopped by a rock outcropping for yet another cold lunch of venison jerky and barley cakes, the group noticed a dark shape circling overhead.  It seemed that another raven had found them.

"That can't be a good sign!" said Krase.

The raven was well out of bowshot.  But it was acknowledged that the last raven had been the harbinger of an orcish patrol.  It was decided that Ilrath should climb a tree to look around.

"But we're in the middle of a forest." Replied Ilrath.

"Just climb the tree." Krase said.

Ilrath dutifully climbed the nearest tree.  Then, he began hastily began descending again.  "That was a good idea.  There are a score of orcs heading this way."

Glancing once more at the raven above, Krase indicated that he didn't think the party could run this time.  Plans were hastily made as the sound of the approaching orcs began to echo out of the snowy forest.

Ilrath positioned himself in front of the rock formation to insure that no orcs could get behind him.  Krase and Speaks (along with Arc) stood by the edge of the rocks.  Krase readied his bow.  Rhys took time to cast his mystical armor spell on Arc before he climbed atop the rock formation.  This put him about ten feet above the battlefield where he could employ his various wands and his crossbow.

Krase and Rhys took aim toward the woods and waited for the orcs to approach.  The trees were dense enough that they would have to wait until the orcs were uncomfortable close to start sending arrows and bolts into their midst.  Finally, through the snowy haze, the shapes of the orcs began to resolve themselves.

One thing that was apparent was that the lead orcs were different than those the party had previously encountered.  They were very squat and broad in the shoulders.  They also wore no armor and were armed with what were effectively giant cleavers.  Behind them came other orcs that looked similar to those the party had already encountered including the outlandish feathers they now knew came from the City of Endless Summer.

As Ilrath braced himself for the coming charge, Rhys reached down off the rock to cast the _Shield_ scroll that he had been saving.  With close to twenty orcs bearing down on them, now seemed as good a time as any.

The "bulldog" orcs led the charge and Krase and Rhys fired at one of them.  Krase's arrow found its mark but the orc didn't even stumble.  Speaks with Stone cast a _Flaming Sphere_ into the midst of the charging orcs but it was sidestepped.  In moments, the frontrunners came into contact with Ilrath and Krase and the battle was joined.

Ilrath swung Slashbane at its intended foe for the first time ever and with devastating effect.  He cleaved right through one of the orcish warriors into one of the "bulldogs".  Krase wielded Heartneedle to similar effect, driving it deep into one of the "bulldog" orcs.

The orcs attacked in turn and with great ferocity.  Krase and Ilrath both felt the bite of one of the oversized cleavers their squat opponents used.  Other orcish warriors maneuvered to fill the gaps left by fallen companions near Ilrath.  A third group of orcs formed into a line and fired arrows at Rhys who was perched atop the rock formation and made a juicy target.  Rhys took a pair of arrows that wore him down.

Near the line of archers, Speaks identified an orc in a large yellow feathered headdress.  He steered his ball of fire at that orc but it was dodged again.  Ilrath sliced through another orc and into the same bulldog as before, this time killing the barrel chested monster.  Krase drove his sword in again and felled a bulldog of his own.

Rhys picked up his wand of _Color Spray_ and lined up a shot that included the last bulldog attacking Krase and two other orcish warriors closing on him.  All of them succumbed to the dazzling lights of the spell.  The two warriors collapsed to the snowy ground, unconscious.  The bulldog appeared stunned by the spell.

Ilrath suffered a series of blows that somehow found their way past his considerable defenses.  He was wounded but still fought his orcish foes as intelligently as possible.  But it was becoming harder to contain the fires of rage that built within his breast.

Even as he gloated over the effectiveness of his recently found wand, Rhys was snapped from his glee by another arrow that headed straight for his heart.  The sturdy mithril chainmail turned what would surely have been a fatal wound into a bad bruise and small cut (Rhys spent a Fate Chip to reroll a critical).  Still, although he had avoided death, he had little fight left in him.

As Rhys considered how narrowly he had avoided death from the arrow, he looked up to find the orcish shaman pointing at him and _Commanding_ him to drop his wand.  He felt his fingers begin to loosen his hold on the wand before getting control of himself and tightening his grip.

Krase struck at his disoriented orcish foe, wounding him badly with a vicious thrust from Heartneedle.  Meanwhile, Speaks once again rolled his fiery sphere at the orcish shaman.  But once again, the shaman stepped deftly out of the way.  Ilrath continued to visit nightmarish damage upon his hapless foes (Incidentally his attack bonus was +12 and he inflicted 1d8+2d6+8 damage on each successful hit, which was usually 2 per round thanks to his Cleave feat).

Rhys found himself on the horns of a dilemma.  Before him, most of the orcs had been slain, except for the archers, all of whom were in a nice tight cluster.  To get within range to use his wand, he would have to leap off the rocks and get past a pair of orcs pressing in on Ilrath.  He figured his ability at tumbling would do the trick if he could get a bit lucky.  Ah well, he figured, victory to the bold and all of that.  He leapt from atop the rock formation…

(Rolls a 2 on his first Tumble check)…and hit the ground with a resounding thud, knocking himself unconscious.

Moments later, the archer line broke anyway, three of them drawing their axes and charging into melee.  It mattered little, however.  Within moments, Ilrath had killed another two and Speaks had released Arc to attack the shaman.  The remaining orcs broke and ran only to be cut down by Ilrath as they turned to run or chased down by Arc.

When all was said and done, fifteen orcs lay dead and the ground was wet with blood melted snow.  Overhead, the raven flew back to the west.

*NEXT:  Homecoming*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

The party gave the orcs a hasty search.  Unsurprisingly, they found another of the mysterious amulets around the neck of the shaman.  Rhys took it to examine later suspecting that it would have the same properties as the others they had found.  Nothing else among the orcs equipment seemed of any great value.  Rhys did take a short bow and a couple of quivers of arrows.  He had been considering that a short bow would give him a greater degree of mobility in combat than did his crossbow, which took precious seconds to load.

The group wanted to put as much distance as they could between them and the slain orcs.  Rhys was still severely wounded from the battle and could barely walk without opening the wounds he had suffered from the arrows.  Ultimately he drank one of the healing potions he had been saving.  That put him in well enough shape to march for the rest of the day.

They walked southward for the remainder of the afternoon.  As the rest of the group made camp, Krase decided to reconnoiter the area to look for any other signs of orcish activity.  He found another abandoned Nervii village.  Again, there were no bodies about.  He checked the village storehouse and found it emptied.  He also located the tracks of a fairly large number of people leaving the village headed southwest.

In the morning, as the party broke camp and began again marching south, Krase mentioned the tracks he had found.  It appeared that the Nervii folk had relocated.  It was as yet unclear whether they were grouping up at whatever fortifications were supposedly being built or if they were simply seeking refuge from the orcish attacks.

The party decided to head to the largest village in the southern Nervii lands to see if it was still occupied.  If not, they would follow any tracks from there.

Another day and a half of travel brought them to the village and it turned out to be empty.  A quick search showed that the storehouse was empty and more tracks led west-southwest.  The party followed these.

They marched through most of the following day before coming to a Brigantes village.  This time there were people about.

Ilrath approached the barbarian folk who were in the village to get word of what was going on.  The news was as follows:

The barbarian council had selected a village in the lands of the Brigantes to be the site for the fortifications.  The order went out for as much food as could be spared to be brought there in the event that there was a siege.

All the able bodied warriors of the tribes were sent to keep the area safe while the fort was being constructed.  The troops from Glynden as well as some of the old and young men of the tribes helped construct the fortifications.  Meanwhile the women and children had been sent back east under light guards to make their way to the Fodor River.  Once there, they were to be ferried back across the river where they would be safe from the orcish horde.

The village where the party currently was lay along the route between the fortress and the river.  The people there presently were just stopping off for the night.  The party decided to stay there for the night as well and head west in the morning.  For the first time in weeks, the group enjoyed a hot meal that contained something besides venison jerky and barley cakes.  A hot fire and the admiration of the barbarian villagers made the stay all the more enjoyable.

In the morning, the party set off west and another day and a half journey brought them into a huge clearing.  The party gaped in awe (and Speaks frowned in chagrin) as they beheld the combined work of half a thousand barbarian axes.

A low, steep hill with a flat top stood before them.  Every tree within two hundred paces of the base of the hill had been cut down.  Except for a few footpaths to the hill, every inch of the clearing was two feet deep in tree branches.

The hill was ringed in two palisades, one at the base and one about half way up the steep slope.  Just southeast of the hill stood the small cluster of huts that used to be a Brigantes village enshrouded in the trees.  Around the huts were a number of large tents that seemed to house a significant forge works.

The flat top of the hill, a scant two hundred feet across was completely covered in tents.  In the center, several pavilions stood slightly taller than the other tents.  Several of the standards of the barbarian tribes could be seen on tall poles among the tents.  And along the southeastern side of the hilltop, tan canvas stood out against the brown hides of the barbarian tents.  There, atop one of the pavilions, flew the red Imperial Pennant and the green flag of Glynden, popping in the wind.

*NEXT:  Choices*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

As the party made their way to the base of the hill, they were recognized by a number of those working in the vicinity.  They were hailed by barbarian and Glynden townsfolk alike.  In particular, they recognized Aelius, the young man who was apprenticed to Rhys' father (the town boyer in Glynden).

Aelius sat in a group of barbarian lads, all of whom were fashioning arrows as quickly as possible.  Aelius took a brief moment away from his task of fletching to let Rhys know that his father sent word of how proud he is that Rhys is aiding the war effort.  He also mentioned that Rhys is instructed to be careful by his mother.

The group bade Aelius farewell and marched up the hill.  Ilrath broke off from the party to go inform Hrongar of the results of their journey.  He promised to return and find them later.  The remainder of the group headed toward the tent where the Imperial Pennant flew.

Guarding the door (a seemingly useless gesture under the circumstance but an artifact of the highly organized legions) was none other than Tiberious, the young guardsman whose terrible aim in the archery tournament had earned Kyndalyn's admonishments.  He stepped forward to embrace the Krase and Rhys and congratulate them on returning alive through hostile territory.  He seemed inclined to want hear the entirety of their story but Kyndalyn emerged from the tent and interrupted.  He invited the party inside to tell their story.

Rhys gave a fairly brief account of their journey to the Stone Tooth.  He apologized that they didn't have an army of dwarves at their backs but explained that unfortunately, there was never an army of dwarves to be had in the first place.  The group of dwarves that presently lived in the Stone Tooth was too small to help directly against the orcs.  Rhys did mention their willingness to forge weapons for the alliance army if men could be spared to guard their front entrance.

Rhys explained that they did manage to recover a number of Orc-slaying weapons and that they lived up to their names as demonstrated on the Orc patrol they had encountered on their return trip.  Speaking of which, Rhys mentioned that the Orcs were using ravens as spies.

Kyndalyn in turn relayed quite a bit of information about the present situation in the lands of the Fodor:

_Kyndalyn was aware that the ravens were being used as spies and told the party that the Allmani hawk masters were making it their personal mission to depopulate the area of all such birds.  

The Allmani were also a source of invaluable reconnaissance information about the location of the Orcish army.  In fact, he had just received word that they appeared to be striking camp and starting to move south towards the fortifications.  They were estimated to arrive in the vicinity in approximately ten days.

The fortifications were moving towards completion and should be ready in time.

Kyndalyn was worried that the army they had assembled would not hold up well under a long siege.  They didn't have large enough stores of food to last more than a month without hunting.  Also, the barbarians were not a patient people by nature and would not fare well under long, cramped conditions.

Kyndalyn wanted to try to goad the orcs into attacking not long after they arrive in the vicinity of the fortifications.  He figured that if they could inflict heavy casualties early on, the orcs might decide to give up and leave.  One method he wanted to try was to have a few small raiding parties to harass the orcs once they got into the area.  By making the surrounding lands a hostile environment, he hoped the orcs would try to go ahead and crush the one target they knew where to find:  The Fortress.

Another problem plaguing the alliance was that the band of gnolls that dwelled across the Fodor were preying on the women, children and elderly of the barbarian tribes.  He needed a way to stop that from happening but didn't want to spare a lot of men doing it._

As a result of this information, Kyndalyn asked if the party would be willing to take on one of two roles.  He wanted them to either go and defend the women, children and elderly  encamped across the Fodor or to be one of the "hit and run parties" operating in the area north of the fortress.

After considering the question briefly, the party opted to become one of the raiding parties.  They all wanted revenge on the gnolls and certainly wanted to protect the helpless civilians across the river but they also realized that Speaks' spells were ideally suited for them operating as a guerilla band in the northlands.  They vowed that if the gnolls were not dealt with by the time the orcs were defeated, they would personally see to it.

With that matter settled, Kyndalyn thanked them and encouraged them to rest and resupply.  He did mention that a few merchants had followed the group from Glynden and that they could get provisions from them.  One of the merchants was reported to deal in magical items.

*NEXT:  To War*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

Speaks, Krase and Rhys descended the hill to locate the merchants Kyndalyn had spoken of.  It didn't take them long to find the one who reportedly dealt in magical items.  He turned out to be an elf who was as subtle as a carnival barker.

He carried a fair selection of low level magical scrolls, a few wands and a small selection of other items.  He was also willing to purchase items that he deemed to be of potential value to himself or his other customers.  After lengthy consideration, Speaks and Rhys traded him their "Amulets of Communication" for a large credit.  They then spent all of this credit and the vast majority of their other available cash for a magical pearl similar, but slightly more powerful, to the one that Speaks had found in the dwarven shrine.

Speaks spent a day catching up with the various tribal shamans and brewing potions.  He had hoped to speak to Orthula but was informed that she had gone with Relmar and a small group of Suevi to establish a secondary set of fortifications as a fall back position.

Rhys and Krase took the opportunity to eat as much hot food as possible.  They were thankful that Speaks with Stone's magic kept them insulated from the brutal cold of the northlands but cold camp definitely had its drawbacks.

The second day after their arrival, they gathered in Kyndalyn's tent once again.  They were happily informed that Ilrath would rejoin their group for their next foray into the wilderness.  All of them breathed a bit easier at the notion that their stalwart friend would be travelling at their side.

Kyndalyn informed the group that his best estimates placed the orcs 6-8 days north-northwest of the fortifications.  The party was to prey opportunistically on any patrols or pickets the orcs sent out and generally tasked to making the lands of the Fodor a hostile environment for the orcs to operate in. 

The party bade Kyndalyn farewell and went off to find Ilrath and stock their packs with provisions for their journey.  Ilrath was quickly located and seemed pleased to be venturing forth with the group from Glynden once again.  He also relayed that he had been gifted with a pair of boots handed down from one of the heroes of barbarian legend (Boots of the Winterlands).

They gathered a supply of barley cakes and smoked venison (rapidly becoming the most hated foodstuffs in roleplaying history) and set out to the north.  After two days of travel, the party decided they needed a "plan" for how to locate and deal with the orcish patrols they were supposed to harass (ya think?!).

They decided that they would try to find a base camp that they could range out from to strike any orcs who wandered nearby.  Krase used his woodland skills to try to locate some kind of shelter.  A few hours later, he found a small cave entrance in a hillside that seemed perfect for the task.  He ventured inside to insure that it was unoccupied.

At first it appeared to be vacant of any inhabitants.  But just as Krase was about to give the "all clear" a slight breeze turned into a whirling vortex of snow in the shape of a large snake.  This "snow snake" began to slither in Krase's direction and he called for help.  He drew his swords and stood ready.

Rhys arrived inside the cave just as the snake lunged at Krase.  It wrapped around the young warrior and began crushing him.  Krase managed to swipe at it with both of his swords.  The enchanted one found purchase and sent a puff of snow into the dimly lit cave but his heirloom sword passed harmlessly through the beast.  Krase cried out that only magic could hurt the creature.

Ilrath plunged into the room seeking an angle where he could attack the serpent without hurting Krase.  Rhys was not so careful.  Reasoning that the icy snake appeared to be a creature that thrived on cold, he drew forth his wand of _Burning Hands_ and let fly at Krase and the serpent.  Both were burned.

Krase hacked again with Heartneedle and more snow flew.  Ilrath stepped forward and dealt the creature a blow from his axe and Rhys finished it off with a thrust from his magical rapier.  As the snow settled to the cave floor, Krase appeared largely unharmed thanks to the magical protection from cold that he had been afforded by Speaks' spell.

Looking around at the small interior of the cave, the party decided that it would be well suited as their base camp.  They took a few hours to clean it out while Krase recovered from the chilling effects of the ice serpent's grasp.  At dark, Speaks cast a _Speak with Animals_ spell to talk to Arc.  He asked him to scout to the west of the cave to try and find any signs of the orcs.  Arc was a bit bewildered by this new ability the Druid demonstrated but did as asked.  The rest of the party settled in to get some rest.

Arc returned in the wee hours of the morning and Speaks cast the spell again.  Arc told him that he had spotted a small group of Orcs mounted on what appeared to be *Undead Dire Wolves*.  Needless to say, Arc promptly turned around and returned to the cave.  This was disturbing news for all kinds of reasons but the group did their best to get back to sleep until morning.

Just before dawn, the party awakened and discussed their next course of action.  Arcs scouting mission had taken around 8 hours.  Considering that he moved a good deal faster than the rest of the party, it was unlikely that they would be able to reach the area where the Undead Wolf Riders ™ were seen.  But that was clearly the direction that the Orc army lay in.  So they headed off to the west.

They trudged through the snow all morning and into the early afternoon with no sign of any orcs.  They were considering turning around when Ilrath mentioned that they were awfully close to one of the Nervii villages.  Krase wanted to check out that village for any signs that the orcs might be using it for shelter.  Ilrath guided them to the outskirts of the village.

Once there, Ilrath, Speaks and Rhys waited while Krase scouted around the village for tracks.  Lo' and behold, he found the tracks of one to two dozen orcs leading into the village.  He circled the rest of the way around and found no tracks leading out.  He returned to the rest of the party and it was decided that he and Rhys would sneak up on the village to determine how many orcs were there and what they were doing.

They approached stealthily enough and from around a hundred feet away, they could see one of the orcs, complete with garishly colored feathers, standing guard between a pair of huts on the edge of the village.  They could tell there was a fire in the center of the village, but couldn't see how many orcs were gathered there.  They decided to shift position to get a better line of sight on the fire.

As they moved, Krase stepped on a branch and Rhys stumbled from cover into direct view of the sentry (Move Silently roll of 2 and Hide roll of 2 respectively).  The orcish sentry called out and Krase and Rhys beat a hasty retreat back to the vicinity of Ilrath and Speaks.  The orcs did not immediately pursue.

The party readied themselves some 250 feet to the east of the village.  A few minutes later, they could see the orcs advancing toward them using the trees as cover.  They couldn't tell at first how many there were, but it was well over a dozen.

As the lead group approached within 50 feet or so, Speaks cast an _Entangle_ spell among them.  Nearly a third of the orcs were entrapped by the grasping vines and roots of the forest.  Those who escaped the clutches of nature scattered to either side of the large entangled area.  Any semblance of an orderly advance was gone.

Ilrath took advantage of the confusion and charged into the midst of the orcs, killing two in one swipe of Slashbane.  Meanwhile, Krase and Rhys began sniping at the orcs on the opposite side of the entanglement with their bows.  This persisted for a few moments until the orcs who had escaped the vines and roots regrouped and began advancing on them, again, using the trees as cover.

Meanwhile on the other side of the entangled area, Ilrath was cutting a wide swath through the ranks of the barbarians.  Any stragglers were either slain at the tip of Speaks' long spear or put down by the occasional _Sleep_ spell from Rhys.  Once in a while, an orc would break free from his entanglement and attempt to escape but Ilrath was quick to overtake and slay any who did so.

As the group of orcs began to charge the group of trees that Krase and Rhys had taken cover in, Rhys dropped a sleep spell into their midst.  This dropped a pair of them and somewhat broke up their charge.  Krase was quick to ply Heartneedle against the rest of them.  In moments, the battle was over and it was a slaughter.

The only orcs that had survived were a pair that Rhys had put to sleep with his magic.  They were quickly bound up and left there (Rhys, Speaks and Ilrath had no compunctions about killing them in their sleep but Krase objected strongly).  The party took a few moments to police up the missile weapons the orcs carried and throw them on the fire in the village.  Then, they made the return trip to their cave.

*NEXT:  Guerillas in the Mist*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

It was dark when they made it back and the party was tired from their long trek through the snow.  But they were in good spirits considering how well their attack on the orcish patrol had gone.  Arc was happy to see the group as well.  Speaks used his magic to talk to Arc again and asked him to check their back trail to see if they had been followed.  Arc obliged this request and left the cave as the rest of the party settled down to eat and rest through the long winter night.

Arc returned a scant five hours later and seemed agitated.  Krase (who was on watch) woke Speaks but unfortunately he didn't have another _Speak with Animals_ spell ready.  He interpreted Arc's agitation to mean that there was someone following their trail.  They decided to keep watch outside the cave in order to see if anyone was approaching their camp.

Krase took the first watch but as he had been on watch for quite a while already, he quickly grew tired.  He woke Ilrath and turned the watching duty over to him.

An hour later, Krase was awakened by Ilrath saying, "Someone is coming."  Looking around, he realized that Ilrath had spoken to him using his amulet.  Krase quickly awoke Speaks but they decided to allow Rhys to sleep since any interruption interfered with his spellcasting abilities.  As Krase emerged from the cave, he saw Ilrath charge a large form in the darkness outside the cave.

Moments later, three more of the large forms moved into the area outside the cave and it became obvious that they were under attack from the dreaded Undead Wolf Riders.  

The riders charged by Ilrath one by one, stabbing with their spears.  The barbarian suffered little damage from these attacks as his mithral beastplate and steel shield deflected most of the blows.  Ilrath would normally have hacked a few out of the saddle but these riders deftly moved their mounts out of his reach as they made their attacks.

Krase emerged from the cave next and moved alongside Ilrath to meet the next charge.  He was followed by Speaks who took a moment to observe what was going on.  Seeing that undead wolves the size of horses were involved, he screamed for Rhys to wake up and join the fray.

The wolf riders charged in again and scored minor hits on Krase and Ilrath.  But this time they stayed in melee range so that their mounts could attack as well.  As it turned out, death hadn't done the giant wolves any favors with regards to speed in combat.  The lunged clumsily at the dexterous barbarian and warrior and their attacks were easily dodged.

Ilrath swung Slashbane against the wolf rider that attacked him (coincidentally the same one he had struck on the initial charge) and slew him outright.  His swing carried down into the riders putrescent mount but it proved quite durable.

Krase's swords darted in to strike the warrior opposite him.  He struck with his grandfather's blade but not with the deadly Heartneedle.  The orc seemed contemptuous of his prowess and drew back to strike with his spear.

Meanwhile, near the cave entrance, Speaks stepped forward and thrust his spear at another of the riders.  He struck the orc, causing him a minor wound.  Arc lunged in, bravely evading a thrust by the orc's spear and bit at the legs of his giant, undead cousin.  He found the taste not to his liking and longed for the days when they had fought the bone warriors.

The riderless wolf that faced Ilrath again lunged at the barbarian.  But enduring the stench of its rotting breath was the only damage that Ilrath suffered.  The other nearby orc and wolf attacked Krase who was able to dodge both attacks.  A fourth rider came forward to engage Ilrath and was able to find a way through the barbarians defenses with his spear.

Off in the darkness, Speaks waged his own private war against the other mounted orc.  His spear didn't connect on the next thrust and neither did Arc land a tooth on the wolf.  But the orc and his mount weren't so lucky as they appeared.  A moment later, the darkness was illuminated by a torrent of flame produced by the wand of _Burning Hands_ wielded by Rhys who crouched in the mouth of the cave.  Unfortunately, the flames also engulfed Arc who yelped in pain.

Ilrath reversed his swing, hoping to cleave through the undead wolf he had struck previously and hack into the latest orc to arrive on the scene.  He did strike the wolf but failed to bring it down.  Krase swung again at his foe and this time both blades found their mark.  Orcish viscera fell on the rotting flesh of his mount.

At that same moment, Speaks thrust again with his spear and the orc he faced fell to the blow he delivered.  Arc again showed his bravery by continuing to battle the wolf, even with the threat of Rhys flaming the whole area again.

The last wolf rider left saw that the situation looked grim for his team.  He gave his wolf the spurs and retreated from the battle off into the darkness.

In the moments that followed, the party quickly dispatched the undead wolves.  Ilrath and Krase both gave chase after the escaped wolf rider but it soon became obvious that the wolf moved faster than either of them could and attempting to catch up was an exercise in futility.

They returned to the cave where Speaks and Rhys had already gathered the party's belongings and made ready to travel.  While the warriors were off, tracking the wolf, Speaks and Rhys had also searched the bodies of the fallen orcs and discovered yet another of the amulets of communication.  It was becoming obvious that the orcs were using the amulets to coordinate information between their patrols and that made them doubly dangerous.  The group wistfully understood that their location was now known to the enemy and that others were likely to track them down if they didn't move.  They shouldered their packs and began to make their way northwards in the darkness.

They only traveled a couple of hours before they stopped.  A heavy snow was beginning to fall and few of them had gotten much sleep.  Krase was about to locate a small stand of Novantae Pines, trees whose thick branches droop all the way to the ground.  Crawling beneath the branches he showed the group that the tree provided excellent shelter.  The party crept up next to the trunk of one of the largest of the stand to find a sizable amount of space sheltered from the weather.  They spent the remainder of the dawn hours nervously watching for any signs of pursuit.

The following day, the group decided to rest and heal from the battle with the wolf riders.  Krase, Rhys and Ilrath spent most of the day swapping stories beneath the branches of their tree.  Speaks wandered through the nearby forest until he located some juniper berries upon which he used his _Goodberries_ spell.

Ilrath dug his way out of the snow that covered the branches of their tree to go relieve himself.  As he did so, he, Rhys and Krase spotted the unwelcome sight of a raven circling to the south.  Krase used his amulet of communication to send a message to Speaks that a raven had been spotted and to stay under cover.  Speaks replied that he had gotten their message and took cover under some thick trees to wait.

What became of the raven was unknown because Ilrath, Rhys and Krase huddled under the cover of their tree, staying out of sight until Speaks returned a few hours later.  As nightfall came on, Speaks decided that it was too crowded under the tree for the five of them and went to another Novantae Pine close by accompanied by Arc.

During the night, the party rotated "watch" (more appropriately called "listen" since they were entirely enclosed by the drooping tree branches and a 5 inch thick layer of snow).  Rhys was on "listen" when he heard a noise, specifically a "clank" to the south.  It was shortly followed by another and he sent Tavis burrowing through the snow to see what was causing the noise.

Tavis climbed a nearby tree to get a better vantage, her winter coat of white fur blending seamlessly with the snow covered pine.  After a few moments, she indicated that a sizable party was approaching from the south.  In a few more moments, she confirmed that they were orcs, many of whom were dressed in scale mail which accounted for the clanking noises.

Using Ilrath's amulet, they informed Speaks of the situation.  Speaks couldn't reply because he had already used his amulet for the day.  He decided that he would get ready and spring into action as soon as he heard the rest of the party take action.

The remainder of the party stayed hidden under their tree and hoped that the orcs wouldn't be able to find them.  It had snowed all day and they hoped that it had obscured their tracks enough to baffle the orcs.  Tavis kept reporting the orcs locations as they drew nearer and nearer to the tree.  Four orcs had the tree nearly surrounded when Rhys heard wings flapping above as though a bird had just flown out of the tree branches.  He gave Krase and Ilrath a panicked look but before he could say more, the world exploded in flames.

Speaks' eyes went wide as some kind of illumination lit the night bright enough to be visible through the several inches of snow piled on his own tree.  He gripped his spear and made ready to burst from the cover of his tree.

A few feet away, not one, not two, not three, but FOUR orcish shamans smiled as they finished unleashing their own _Burning Hands_ spells centered on the tree.  The party was fortunate (if any part of this can be deemed fortunate) in two ways.  First, the tree was large enough that all four shamans couldn't overlap the areas of their spells.  Second the thick layer of snow covering the tree took a bit of the edge off the spells.  Still, they were all burned, some of them badly.

Ilrath was the first to recover from the shock of the situation and he stood and swung his axe at one of the shamans.  Slashbane sliced through the light armor and the orcish flesh with equal ease, sending the shaman reeling to the snowy ground.  The swing carried through into another adjacent shaman who clung to life with the most tenuous grasp.  Krase also stepped out of the burning remains of his much sought after Novantae Pine and thrust Heartneedle into the breast of another shaman, felling him instantly.

Rhys cast _Mage Armor_ and winced as he saw the onrushing forms of more of the "bulldog orcs" they had fought on their return trip from the Stone Tooth.

Within seconds, the second wave of orcs, including several of the "bulldog" variety, charged into the midst of the party.  Ilrath, Krase and Rhys were all struck and Rhys was struck hard enough to send him to the verge of unconsciousness (0 hp exactly).  The remaining shamans withdrew to regroup while a foursome of orcish archers formed up into a line.  Fortunately (?) for the party, so many orcs were engaged in melee with them that the archers couldn't get a clear shot anywhere.

Speaks burst out of his snow covered shelter and charged one of the orcs that had Rhys pinned in.  His spear struck home but was not enough to fell the seasoned orcish veteran he fought.  Arc streaked across the snow to engage another orc who fought Ilrath.

Ilrath swung at one of the orcish warriors that engaged him and cut deep, but not deep enough to drop him.  Krase thrust his swords at one of the bulldogs and he too scored a hit.  But the strike failed to slay the burly, cleaver wielding orc.  For his part, Rhys thought his chances of surviving the next few seconds were bleak.  Three orcs were presently within striking range and his vision was getting black around the edges.  He staggered back a few feet and quaffed one of the potions of healing that he'd been given by Speaks.  Only one of the orcs was within range to swing at him now and thankfully, that one missed the mark.

It struck again at Rhys and again, the nicked blade of its battle axe skipped off the magical armor Rhys wore.  Although Rhys had escaped the immediate danger of the orcs in melee, he had inadvertently stepped into view of some of the archers.  A pair of them let fly at the young sorcerer but the cover he received from the melee combatants as well as the orcs less than stellar facility with missile weapons combined to leave him unharmed.

The other orcs in melee hacked at the pair of human warriors.  Although Ilrath and Krase were both well armored, the sheer number of attacks were beginning to take their toll.  As if matters were not bad enough, Krase watched with horror as one of the orcish shamans turned invisible before his very eyes.  It was clear that they could not last much longer in these circumstances.

Ilrath hacked again with Slashbane and finally one of the barrel chested bulldog orcs fell to the snow.  Krase did the same and felled one of his attackers.  Now he was flanked on only one side instead of two.

Speaks stabbed the same orc again and this time was rewarded with having the unconscious orc slide to the cold ground beneath the still burning pine tree.  That left Rhys free of attackers for a moment.  He cast one of his _Sleep_ spells at the line of archers.  Two slumped to the ground.

The other pair of archers fired their arrows at Speaks and he was struck once.  The remaining visible shaman, who had made his way to the rear ranks of the orcs, moved to waken his sleeping comrades.  Those orcs in melee launched into another series of attacks that left Ilrath slightly worse for wear.  Krase had channeled all his fighting prowess into parrying the blows of his enemies and was able to fend off the attacks directed at him.

Ilrath turned his axe on another of the bulldog orcs but his axe failed to connect (This is a rare event considering that with his combined bonuses and the orc-slaying axe, Ilrath needs to roll around a 3 to connect with the average orc).  Krase managed to land a blow with his grandfather's gladius doing minor damage to another of the bulldogs.

Speaks moved around the burning tree to assist Ilrath against the orcs he fought.  Rhys moved up near Krase, drawing a wand in the process.  The night filled with brilliant colors as he cast _Color Spray_.  One of the orcish warriors fell to the ground and the bulldog that Krase faced stood dazed.

The archers fired at Rhys again but their luck was consistently bad (not bad for Rhys who had 4hp).  The shaman moved to awaken the other sleeping archer but he was starting to see the tide of battle turn against his team.  The thinning ranks of orcs in melee continued to hack at Ilrath and Krase but now also had Speaks to worry about.  They inflicted a couple more minor wounds but their attack was starting to lose steam.

Ilrath brought his axe around, this time slaying the remaining bulldog he fought and cleaving into another hapless warrior.  Speaks quickly finished that one off with his spear.  Krase thrust his swords into the thick chest of the bulldog he faced and drove him to the ground.  Rhys, seeing that the archers were all conscious again, dropped another sleep spell into their midst.  Again, two slumped to the ground.

One of the remaining shamans cast a spell and the battlefield was suddenly engulfed in a thick bank of fog.  After that, what exactly happened was anybody's guess.  Krase ran forward into the cloud, cutting down a disoriented orcish archer as he went.  Ilrath also advanced slowly, hacking at any orc that still breathed.  Speaks circled around outside the cloud and looked for any orcs attempting to escape.  Rhys climbed a nearby tree with his _Spider Climb_ spell until he was above the fog.

A few moments later, Speaks heard some noises and noticed two sets of footprints appearing on either side of him.  He called for the other party members and they regrouped on the southern side of the fog cloud.  They quickly determined that the shamans must have gone invisible and escaped back the way they came.

The party tried to give chase into the darkness (Rhys did cast _Light_ on a crossbow bolt and fire it into the forest to aid their search) but found it difficult to discern the new footprints of the shamans from the ones left by the orcs as they had approached.  After a while, they gave up and returned to the scene of the battle.  There, they discovered two more sets of tracks leading away that probably had belonged to the sleeping archers.

Battered and cut, the party searched the dead shamans and found another amulet of communication, a pair of _Cure Moderate Wounds_ scrolls and one _Invisibility_ scroll.  Surveying the battlefield, they realized that tomorrow they must move to yet another location.

*NEXT:  The Battle is Joined*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

The group rested but just a few short hours.  They awoke and had a brief conversation about their next move.  It was decided that most likely the orcish army was now to the south and west of them, closer to the fortifications than to where they currently were.  If they were to continue their harassment, they would need to move in that direction.  Since the group that had attacked them during the night had approached from that direction, they simply followed those tracks southwest.

As they traveled, Krase noticed that a pair of orcish tracks joined the main group they were following.  These were likely the tracks of the pair of archers who had managed to slip away under cover of the _Obscuring Mist_ during the combat.  The party continued on with Krase on point some 50 feet ahead of the rest of the party.

Several hours later, Krase heard a sound off to one side of the trail they were following.  He crept off the path and approached stealthily.  A hundred or so feet away, he spotted a pair of orcs sitting on a log talking.  Laying on the ground nearby were another pair dressed in the manner of the orcish shamans.

Krase managed to signal Rhys who crept forward while Speaks and Ilrath hung back.  When Rhys was close enough to see the orcs, he cast a _Sleep_ spell on them.  Only one fell asleep (pitching forward onto his face in mid conversation) but Rhys managed to fire off another spell before the other orc had a chance to react.

The whole party now approached the group of sleeping orcs.  As they got closer though, one of the shamans must have heard the approach and woke up.  He called out a warning to his fellows but that was all he had time for before the party was upon them.

Ilrath downed the first shaman with a single swipe of Slashbane.  The party (especially Krase) had been anxiously been looking forward to taking a prisoner or two for questioning.  All hopes of this died when the second shaman, seeing that he had little hope of survival or escape *spat* in Ilrath's face.  (one failed will save later) Ilrath flew into a rage and hacked the second shaman in two, cleaving into one of the magically slept orcs.  He then set about chopping the last sleeping orc limb from limb.

Krase was frustrated by this but with a resigned sigh they looted the bodies and continued on.  As evening came on, they found themselves nearing the edge of the forest.  To the west was a plain that eventually became the foothills of the Blackpeaks.  The party made camp for the night and resolved to patrol across the plain the following day to look for any signs of something resembling orcish supply lines.

They awoke in the pre-dawn hours and made their way to the edge of the forest.  They struck out across the snowy plains and made a shallow arc to the north.  Near midday they came across the path the orcs must have taken south.  It was a wide patch of muddy slush where obviously hundreds of feet had recently trod.  There were no signs of any kind of supply lines.  Apparently, the orcs planned to subsist on whatever or whoever crossed their paths.

Having no other concrete plans, the party decided to continue their arc to the southwest until they ran into the branch of the forest that stretched across the plain, describing the extent of the Brigantes lands.  Presumably the other harassing group, composed entirely of barbarians was in the area somewhere.  Perhaps they would find them and discover some news of what had been taking place.

As they traveled, they noticed several small specks circling in the sky to the south.  These were assumed to be the spy ravens the orcs had been using.  By Ilrath's estimate, they were very close to or directly on top of the fortifications where the barbarians and folk of Glynden awaited the orcish horde.  Clearly the two armies would soon be in sight of each other if they weren't already.

A short while later, they spotted an area of discolored snow some distance off.  They investigated and found a trampled area where a skirmish had taken place.  Krase scouted the area and was able to determine that six barbarians had approached from the south and four had later retreated that direction.  He was unable to determine exactly how many orcs had been involved but it was at least a score.

Also, curiously, he found some bear tracks in the middle of the trampled area but found no such tracks leading into or out of the area.  It was recalled that the totem spirit of the Brigantes was the bear.  Ilrath received some questioning glances but he made no comments.  The group proceeded to the southwest.

They made the forest by nightfall and after another cold camp they awoke and made ready to travel.  This time, they would make a smaller arc across the plains and back to the eastern reaches of the forest.  Krase was resistant to getting too close to the orcish army, lest they attack the party _en masse_.  But it had been two days since they had killed any orcs and they felt like they weren't doing their jobs.

In late morning, they again crossed the wide track left by the orcish army as it made its way south.  They paused there and looked off to the south.  In the sky they could see large plumes of smoke rising into the sky and blending with the winter clouds.  They were unsure of what this meant but it couldn't be good.

They also were now close enough to positively the birds to the south as ravens.  Likewise, apparently the ravens could now identify them.  A raven flew north until it circled over the party.  Krase and Rhys fired a pair of bolts up at the bird but it was too far away to effectively target.

They hurried on across the plain and reached the cover of the forest by late afternoon.  They assumed they would be attacked during the night and quickly found a campsite.  Krase decided to place traps all around the perimeter of their campsite (Krase's player had to leave early this session but this is where we discovered that despite the fact that he has many time threatened to make traps and has lugged his trapmaking kit all over the northlands, Krase has not a single rank in the trapmaking craft.  The group decided that Krase's player would never admit to that fact and would just go through the motions of setting up the traps anyway, so that's what one of the other players had him do.).

The night passed without the party being attacked by the orcs ("They were probably intimidated by the wall of traps Krase put up.").  They decided that it was time for them to approach the army and see what was up.  The hiked for half a day through the woods until they came to a clearing…a huge clearing.

At one end stood the fortified hill, held by the barbarians and forces of Glynden.  But the orcs had apparently burned a gigantic swath of trees to create room for their encampment.  A clearing approximately 400 yards wide and 800 yards long now smoldered before them.  Speaks frowned at this desecration of nature.

And there before them, swarming the clearing just out of bowshot of the hill fort, were hundreds and hundreds of orcs.

*Aerial Battle and Missing Man*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

As the initial shock of seeing the collected orcish army wore off, the party noticed something else that was unexpected. At the end of the giant burned clearing, opposite of the fortified hill, stood a fortress of ice. It was not nearly as large as the barbarian fortifications but, considering that there was no such ice fortress present ten days ago, it was still a rather noteworthy edifice.

It was clear that the party couldn’t launch an attack at the orc army. But they didn’t want to return to the hill fort without some further information about exactly what was going on inside that ice fortress. The party decided to do one last scouting mission before returning to report to Kyndalyn and Hrongar.

They withdrew a mile back into the woods and circled to the north. As they went, they were forced to venture back onto the plains. They did the best they could to rapidly move from one small cluster of trees to another. But as they traveled, above them appeared one of the ravens that had dogged their recent journeys. They hurried to the next copse of trees and waited. The raven circled overhead, presumably keeping track of their exact location.

“I’ve had enough of this!”, said Speaks with Stone. He stepped a few paces away from his companions and a look of concentration came over his face. As the others stared in astonishment, Speaks’ features elongated and sharpened and he seemed to shrink in on himself. A few seconds later, a large eagle stood where Speaks had been only a moment before. Then it rather clumsily took to the air.

The eagle quickly got up to speed and began winging its way toward the raven. The raven suddenly realized that it was in peril and began flying southward as fast as it could go. But eagles are much faster flyers than ravens and Speaks soon caught the raven.

He began slashing at the carrion bird with his claws and beak but, never having been in eagle form before, he had a difficult time using these new attack forms (the player rolled an atrocious series of dice rolls, none higher than about a 7). He finally began to get the hang of his new form and his beak was starting to send black feathers drifting to the ground below.

Then, the pair of avians flew over the clearing where the orc army was amassed. Looking down at the ice fortress, Speaks could see a handful of orcs, dressed in the garb of the shamans, pointing up at the aerial battle taking place a hundred feet above them. Speaks knew that he would have only one more chance at the raven before he was within bowshot of the orcs.

But before he could dive in for this attack, a large snake-like creature emerged from the top of the ice fortress and a small, red, glowing projectile surged skyward and suddenly burst into a huge sphere of flame. Speaks was engulfed in this explosion and was severely hurt. He banked hard and flew back over the forest towards the plains to the north. He hadn’t been able to kill the raven but perhaps it would think twice before spying on them again. Either way, his first trip to the ice fortress had been educational.

Speaks returned to the copse of trees where the rest of the party waited. He carefully landed his slightly charred new form and then transformed back to normal, again to the collective astonishment of the rest of the party.

“When the heck did you learn to do that?!”, said Krase.

“It’s just a new trick I’ve been working on. But nevermind that right now.”

By this time it was nearly dark. They moved to a different copse of trees in which to take shelter for the night and settled in for some rest. Speaks decided to send Arc on a scouting mission to determine if large numbers of orcs guarded the northern approach to the ice fortress. He used his ability to Speak with Animals and asked the wolf to approach the clearing and report back. Arc departed.

When Speaks was awakened for his turn at watch, he was concerned to find out that Arc still hadn’t returned. It had been several hours and they were only a mile or so from the orcish camp. He kept a vigil for the wolf for the rest of the night but Arc did not return.

As the others woke in the pre-dawn darkness, Speaks informed them that at first light, he would be going to go and find Arc. The others looked at one another skeptically. They knew that this meant going right up to the edge of the whole orcish army. But the look of determination on Speaks’ face was enough to quell any arguments they might have. And after all, Arc had fought beside them every step of the way.

A team member was missing and they intended to find him.

*NEXT:  Icecapades*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Icecapades*

The party girded themselves for battle, knowing that before the day was out they may well find themselves under attack by a substantial portion of the orcish army. All of them were grim at the prospect and especially Speaks with Stone. He knew that going into the midst of the orcs could well be a fatal mistake and that a large part of the reason the party was doing this was because of him. But nobody considered backing out.

Speaks handed Krase his Amulet of Communication and transformed himself into a wolf. Krase then placed the amulet back around the neck of the lupine and Speaks took the lead, following the tracks that Arc had left the night before. The rest of the party fell into line.

A short while later, the party could see that the woods were thinning ahead and could smell the smell of wood smoke. The reasoned that they must be at the northern edge of the clearing. They proceeded with caution.

Up front, Speaks in wolf form spotted a pair of orcish pickets standing a short way inside the treeline from the clearing. At almost the same moment, one of the orcs also spotted him. The orc was heard to yell, “It is another of the wolves! We must tell the shamans!” He turned and ran into the clearing, followed closely by his compatriot. With the rest of the party well behind him, Speaks figure that they had little chance of killing the fleeing pickets before they reached the ice fortress. Instead, the group approached the edge of the clearing where they would enjoy a good vantage point for observing any approaching orcs while still having the cover of the forest.

As they came closer, they began to notice an eerie quiet that they would not expect from an encampment of nearly a thousand orcs. Speaks had made his way to the edge of the clearing already and the rest of the party took up a position some 80 feet west of him. Once they could see into the clearing, they understood the reason for the quiet: There were no orcs anywhere to be seen. Then they realized that, listening intently, they could hear yelling in the distance. There were sounds of battle to the south. The ice fortress blocked their view but it was obvious that the orcs must have been assaulting the hill fort at that very moment!

They had little time to contemplate the implications of this however, as a half dozen orcs emerged from the ice fortress and headed in their direction. Speaks transformed back into his human form and the party readied their missile weapons and waited for the orcs to come within range. But before the party fired a single shot, the orcs stopped and their shamans cast spells.

Suddenly, the area around Krase and Rhys was thoroughly entangled in sticky webs like those of a spider. An instant later, Speaks was in the middle of a similar situation. Ilrath, just a few feet from where Rhys was entangled had escaped the sticky strands. He looked up to find the orcs charging in the direction of his helpless companions.

Without a second thought, Ilrath charged from cover and into the midst of the orcs, swinging Slashbane with abandon. Two of the orcs fell before they could react. Two others moved around to flank Ilrath while one of the shamans stepped forward and touched the barbarian, sending a shocking jolt through him.

As the rest of the party struggled in vain to escape the webs, Ilrath yelled a war cry and sliced the offending shaman in twain with Slashbane. The force of the blow carried through into one of the warriors next to him, severely wounding him. Both warriors hacked at the mighty barbarian but their blows slid harmlessly off of his dwarven forged, mithral, breastplate.

Seeing that he was unlikely to survive the next few seconds unless he took drastic measures, the shaman conjured a globe of darkness around himself, Ilrath and both of the remaining orcish warriors. Still, Ilrath had seen both orcs only a moment before. He swung his axe and felt it sink into orcish flesh before him. He continued his swing around and again found his mark.

Rhys had never actually been entangled in the webs conjured by the shamans but it had taken him some time to pick his way through the strands to get outside of the ball of sticky strands. Now he was clear and looking up, he saw a large ball of darkness. Beyond it, he could see one of the orcs fleeing back to the ice fortress. Those were all the observations he had time for as he heard Speaks calling for him.

Ilrath was unsure of whether he had slain the last of the orcs inside the darkness. He also wasn’t sure if the orcs could see through the inky blackness or not. He spent the next few seconds flailing around wildly with Slashbane as he stumbled forwards to escape the darkness.

Meanwhile, Speaks had cast a spell upon himself to protect him from fire. He then entreated Rhys to use his wand of Burning Hands to burn through the webs. Rhys did as he bade and in moments, the druid was free of the webs. They then turned their attentions to where Krase was stuck.

Ilrath had since made his way out of the darkness. He saw the one remaining shaman climbing a set of stairs that wound up the outside of ice fortress. Glancing back to see that his companions were all right, he gave chase to the fortress.

Rhys was considering freeing Krase from the webs the same way he had freed Speaks. Krase wouldn’t have the benefit of the Protection from Fire spell of course. But the flames weren’t that hot. Ultimately he decided against that course of action, not out of any concern for Krase but because Tavis, his familiar, was also trapped inside the same cluster of webs.

Krase, never the strongest member of the party, continued to struggle against the firm hold of the webs. He was confident that he would get out eventually (as soon as he rolled a 19 or better) but for the moment was still stuck.

Ilrath raced across the trampled snow and began his way up the stairs chiseled into the side of the fortress. The stairs were naturally slippery but the Boots of the Winterlands he wore gave him good footing regardless. He continued his way to the top of the fortress where the shaman awaited him. Seeing that their barbarian friend may have been getting in over his head, Speaks and Rhys ran after him to lend their aid.

Ilrath mounted the last few steps and found himself atop the fortress, face to face with the shaman. In a last desperate attempt to ward off the mighty warrior, the shaman raised his hands and let fly with a jet of flames that engulfed Ilrath. But Ilrath shrugged off the searing pain and brought Slashbane down in a tremendous blow that split the shaman’s skull in two.

For the moment, Ilrath was without a foe facing him and he turned around to survey things from the top of the ice fortress. He stared to the south to see that smoke surrounded the top of the hill fort. Several sections of the palisade were on fire and he could tell that fierce fighting was taking place where it had been breached. And surging forward, pushing and jostling their way toward the gaps in the palisade were far, far too many orcs for his people to hold against. Ilrath unconsciously swung Slashbane through the air in a gesture of frustration. Then he spoke aloud to those who could not hear, “Fight well my brothers and I will do what I can at this end!” He descended the ice stairs to seek a way inside the ice fortress to slay whatever enemies it held.

As Ilrath was coming down, Rhys was going up. The agile youth had experienced little trouble negotiating the icy steps and, finding that Ilrath needed no help as of yet, ascended to get a better view. Below a grim realization was occurring.

Speaks was afraid that at any moment, a flood of orcs would appear from the relatively small opening at the base of the fortress. He sprinted there to plug that exit until Ilrath or Krase (who was just now making his way clear of the last of the web strands) could assist him. When he got there, it was not orcs he found. It was Arc.

Or, rather, what had once been Arc. What stood before Speaks now was the animated, stinking, charred corpse of his faithful companion. Speaks desperately sought Arc’s eyes for any sign of recognition but he found only a pale blue malevolent glow. The Arc-Thing lunged for Speaks.

The druid easily dodged the slow clumsy movements of the undead wolf. He tried to believe that the wolf moved so slowly because somewhere deep down, Arc was still there, fighting the evil presence within his flesh. But he had seen firsthand the re-animated forms of the wolves the orcs rode and knew that there was no vestige of the natural remaining in the creature before him. Speaks stabbed the thing that wore the flesh of his friend. He stabbed it again and again until it lay still, whatever evil force that had inhabited the wolf body, driven away by the violence done to it by the druid.

And then, he bent and picked up the tortured and abused body of the wolf and carried it a short distance away, placing it on a rare patch of untrodden snow. Speaks shook his head with anger and grief and turned back on the ice fortress. Whatever was within would pay for the way it which it had defiled one of Nature’s creatures. For what it had done to his friend.

Krase arrived at the druid’s side just then. Looking down at the body of the wolf, he needed no explanation for what had happened or of what would happen next. The pair of them entered the ice fortress.

*NEXT: No Laughing Matter*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*No Laughing Matter* 

Ilrath had entered the top of the ice fortress from a large balcony that occupied nearly half of the upper level. He found himself inside a single, large room with benches hacked into the walls. There were no orcs in sight. In the dim light that made its way through the thick, translucent, ice walls, he could see a sizable hole in the floor across the room. He cautiously approached the hole.

Meanwhile, Krase and Speaks had found themselves in a narrow, rounded hallway that seemed to wind its way around the perimeter of the lower level of the ice fortress. It abruptly ended in a large single room. The room had few notable features. Among them was a small alcove chipped into the ice in which rested a metal bottle. Also, in the center of the floor was an area where the faint outline of something rectangular was buried under a foot or more of ice. Lastly, in the far corner of the room was a hole in the ceiling, roughly five feet across.

Krase made his way across the room cautiously, avoiding stepping on the rectangular area. He paused to look at the metal bottle when he heard a noise coming from the hole in the ceiling. He drew his other sword and crept near the hole. As he furtively peered up into the hole, he found himself looking into the face of Ilrath.

“This place is empty and we are missing the war!”, said Ilrath.

“Looks that way, huh.”, replied Krase.

Doubtlessly, a fascinating and insightful conversation was about to take place but it was interrupted by the sounds of gales of laughter coming from above. Ilrath and Krase looked quizzically at each other and then realized that it sounded like Rhys. Ilrath offered his hand to Krase and said, “Let’s go see what he’s on about.” Krase easily scrambled up through the hole. Ilrath preceded him out the door and onto the balcony…

Where he immediately came under brutal attack by the giant, snake-thing that had shot fire at Speaks when he was an eagle. The snake was moving at blindingly fast speed and it struck Ilrath with its powerful bite. Then, before Ilrath could recover from the first strike, he heard the human-like mouth of the thing mutter some words and energy crackled from the tendrils that hung like a beard from the face of the beast. It lunged at him and he was jolted with the electrical discharge. As it lunged in, Ilrath could see that it wore some kind of circlet that bore the same symbol as on the Amulets of Communication the party had been finding. Additionally, a small, pinkish crystal of some sort orbited its head.

(*Note: For those of you who haven’t figured it out yet, this thing is a Banelar. It comes from Monsters of Faerun and it is extremely nasty. It has the spellcasting capabilities of a 6th level Wizard AND Cleric and it gets to cast one spell every round as a FREE action. It also has a poisonous bite that does 2d4 Con damage as a primary and secondary effect. It has 10 foot reach, a huge Strength and Con, is extremely smart and is generally hell on wheels. It is listed as CR5.

I hadn’t really intended for the party to encounter the thing under these circumstances. I was hoping that it might not come into direct contact with the group until a couple sessions later when they were all 5th level. These things are obviously not always in my control.

In order to tone down the astounding capabilities of this beast, I had already nerfed the 10 foot reach. But I had left all the other abilities as they were in the book. At this point, I considered fudging the creature because I was sure it would kill the whole group otherwise [it had already incapacitated Rhys with a Hideous Laughter]. But I decided to just roll with it and let the chips fall where they may since that has been the theme for the campaign so far. In retrospect, I am extremely glad I made that decision.

The party had precisely two things going for them: They have really become good at sculpting the battlefield to their advantage. And the Banelar had already used up several of his better spells against the barbarian stronghold before the party arrived on the scene. Here’s what happened…)

Ilrath swung his axe for the first time and his heart sank when it glanced off of some kind of mystical force that protected the Banelar. He came close to flying into a rage but he felt he needed to keep his wits about him and try to hold this creature off so his friends could escape.

Then Krase flew into the opposite flank of the creature, stabbing with Heartneedle. His attack was also thwarted by the defenses of the beast. Speaks looked up from where he stood on the ground below and saw the fight taking place on the balcony. Having been on the receiving end of some of the creatures magic, he knew that Krase and Ilrath were outmatched and they needed to regroup. “Get out of there!” he yelled.

But before his companions could move, the Banelar flew into another series of attacks (it was Hasted, Mage Armored and Entropic Shielded). First, with a wave of its tentacles and some unintelligible words, Krase was struck with absolute panic. He did well to keep his bowels from emptying on the spot and there was no question that he was going to flee at his very first opportunity.

Then, the Banelar wheeled on Ilrath and delivered a pair of vicious bites, one of which penetrated the armor of the barbarian. As the blow struck home, Ilrath could feel his vigor draining and he felt sick.

He summoned his strength and swung Slashbane with all his might. This time the axe struck true and left a bloody gash on the flank of the snake-beast. For his part, Krase kept true to his earlier conviction and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. As he did so, the Banelar bit him deeply and Krase could feel poison creep into his veins. But at least he made it free of the clutches of this terrible enemy (and he didn’t even slip going down the stairs).

The Banelar now only had one foe to worry about and focused the full fury of his jaws on the barbarian. Ilrath again fended off one of the blows but was wounded by the second and again, the poison poured into his body. Then, to add injury to injury, the Banelar sent three magical bolts slamming into the barbarian with unerring accuracy. Ilrath knew that another such attack would kill him. Krase had gotten away and he had no idea where Rhys was (although he suspected that he was dead).

Ilrath hurled himself off the balcony onto the ice and snow below. He landed ungracefully, injuring himself further but still conscious and out of the grasp of the Banelar. Krase continued his frantic flight towards the perceived safety of the woods.

Speaks with Stone, standing alone in the trampled snow, spear clutched defiantly in hand, called out to the Banelar, “Foul Beast, if you are so powerful, come and face me!” (This character stinks at Bluff – and of course rolls a 20). The Banelar, normally a coldly calculating creature of brutal reason, was taken utterly off guard by the challenge issued from the druid (Rolled a 1 for Sense Motive). Somewhere in his cold, reptilian brain, a spark of fury grew into a conflagration of rage. Seeing the reaction that he had provoked, it was all Speaks with Stone could do to maintain his concentration as he cast Spike Growth on the ground in front of the ice fortress.

The Banelar slithered down the ice stairs at top speed and turned to close with the druid. As he did so, he flung a Melf’s Acid Arrow at Speaks, striking him with the acidic missile. But just then, the Banelar encountered the spikes of plant growth as they punctured his scaly belly. Heedless of the damage being inflicted (which wasn’t much), it continued through the field of spines and pursued the object of its hate.

About this time, Ilrath had downed all of the healing potions he had so carefully held on to through their raids against the orcs. He picked himself up and prepared to dive back into the fray.

Some distance off in the woods, Krase was suddenly free of the terror that had gripped him only moments before. He turned and began to run back along his tracks toward the clearing again.

Speaks was contending with the aftereffects of the bolt of acid the Banelar had shot him with. The pain lingered on and it took all of his concentration to cast one of his Entangle spells. This one was roughly centered on the Banelar and Speaks hoped to trap him in the area with the spikes.

But the Banelar was extremely strong and broke through the bits of vine and root that attempted to grasp him. The entanglement did slow him down enough to keep him from catching up with Speaks for the moment. In fact, the Banelar made for the closest edge of the entangled area, which put him a considerable distance from the druid.

Ilrath was running to aid Speaks and so was Krase but it was very much in question whether either would arrive in time.

As the Banelar bore down on him, Speaks once again marshaled his willpower and cast a spell through the pain of the acid. This time, he softened the earth between himself and the Banelar into a muddy mush that would be difficult to cross. Then he retreated and leveled his spear, waiting for the inevitable.

As it turned out, he was again safe for the moment. The length of the battle seemed to be taking a toll on the speed of the Banelar (his Haste had worn off). After having to cross the mud, the snake-beast was still not within striking range of the druid.

Thus, Ilrath and Krase reached the Banelar before it reached Speaks. The barbarian slashed into one flank as the warrior from Glynden attacked the other. Both attacks found their way through the defenses of the snake but neither inflicted much damage.

With his friends engaged against the creature and the last effects of the acid bolt gone, Speaks stepped forward and thrust his spear at the beast. It was deflected by the same force that had stopped the warriors’ blows earlier. Still, Speaks was glad to be doing something that wasn’t a delaying tactic.

Nearly surrounded now, having used nearly all his spells and with none of his orcish allies anywhere close, the Banelar began to sense that although he still held the upper hand, it had been rash to charge into the midst of the humans. At this point, he needed to put one of them down and withdraw while its friends tried to save it from his deadly poison. Having already inflicted terrible damage upon the barbarian with bites and spells, he was the obvious choice. The Banelar bit savagely at the barbarian, inflicting another nasty wound. But this time, Ilrath threw off the effects of the poison. Simultaneously, the Banelar cast a spell at Speaks.

Speaks was preparing to lunge again at the Banelar when he felt his muscles begin to tense and freeze into place. He focused his willpower, much as he had in overcoming the pain of the acid and managed to fend off the spell. Then he struck a retaliatory blow with his spear, but missed again. Seeing that Ilrath had just suffered another wound, Speaks maneuvered toward the barbarian to offer assistance.

At the same time, Ilrath felt the fury rise up inside him and this time he did nothing to staunch the flow. It filled him with righteous rage and restored some of the vigor the poison had robbed him of. Irath swung Slashbane again and this time his axe bit deep into the side of the snake.

Krase attacked again with Heartneedle and pierced the defenses of the snake. But the effects of the poison took much of the power from his blow. It was merely a scratch.

Having seen the druid ignore his Hold Person spell, and with the barbarian still cheating death, the Banelar was becoming more concerned. He struck once again at Ilrath and landed another powerful bite. The barbarian crumpled to the ground, the poison taking root in his body.

Krase grimly gripped Heartneedle in one hand and his grandfather’s sword in the other and prepared to defend against the next attack that would surely come his way now that Ilrath was down. He made a pair of feeble slashes at the snake-beast but neither penetrated its defenses.

Speaks knew that Krase could likely defend against the Banelar for a long time. The youth was a master of defensive combat and could dodge and parry for some time. But time was not a luxury they possessed. Ilrath lay dying at their feet and somewhere up on the ice fortress Rhys was unaccounted for but probably dead or dying. Speaks knew that he was not even close to the warrior that Ilrath was. So he shouldered his spear and used the last of their healing magic: A scroll recovered from a dead orcish shaman. Ilrath stirred and stood.

Having bought himself enough time to escape, the Banelar took the opportunity. The attack that Krase had been expecting never came and his defensive posture left him unable to effectively attack the Banelar as it retreated. The Banelar breathed a sigh of relief and made for the entangled area. He knew that the weak vines and roots stood little chance of causing him problems. But it would prevent the puny humans from following him. He slithered into the edge of the entanglement.

But just as he did so, a cluster of thick roots erupted from the snow and ensnared the snake-beast. They held him tight, leaving his back half exposed outside the entangled area. Looking back at the humans, he saw them coming toward him with weapons drawn and murder in their eyes.

Ilrath’s barbarian-bred speed brought him to the Banelar first and with a mighty overhead swing, he sliced through scale, muscle and spine, Slashbane coming to rest with four inches of blade buried in the cold-hardened earth. Blood gushed from the wound and the Banelar fell dead on the ground.

Panting with exhaustion, the three companions looked at each other in amazement. They had slain another dragon. But with the condition of Rhys still in question, there was little time for celebration. Krase made his way into the entanglement to retrieve the items the Banelar wore and Speaks and Ilrath limped toward the ice fortress to search for Rhys.

They found him easily enough. He lay unconscious and near death at the topmost balcony where Ilrath had last seen him. Speaks cast a handful of minor healing spells that brought the sorcerer barely to consciousness. He was still as white as a bone and it was obvious that the poison of the Banelar had taken a terrible toll on the lad. Ilrath and Speaks helped him to his feet.

As they did so, their gaze wandered to the south in the direction of the battle. Their jaws dropped when they found that the orcs were no longer attacking the hill fort.

Half a thousand orcs were five hundred yards away, running in the direction of the ice fortress.

*NEXT: Escape and Return *


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Escape and Return *

Ilrath's first thoughts were of battle.  He asked Speaks to heal him so that he might attempt to hold off the orcs from retaking the ice fortress.  Speaks looked at him as though he were crazy and informed him that, sadly, he had used the last of his healing magic on Rhys.  Rhys and Krase glanced again at the oncoming orcs.  They both immediately reached a decision on their only possible course of action.  They brooked no argument when they looked at Ilrath and Speaks and yelled in unison:

*"RUN AWAY!"* (For those who despise such things, I can assure you that this is the only Monty Python quote that will appear in this post.  Furthermore, those responsible for this quote have been sacked.)

The party quickly descended the slippery stairs of the ice fortress and beat a hasty retreat to the edge of the woods.  There, they were forced to pause for nearly a minute while Ilrath bulled his way into one of the webs to retrieve Rhys' familiar, Tavis.  Poor Tavis lost a good deal of her winter coat to the sticky strands of web that held her fast.  Ilrath ripped her out of her bonds with a brief squeak of pain (the weasel squeaked, not the barbarian).

Once she was free, the group retreated further into the forest and angled off to the west.  They intended to skirt the burned clearing and make their way back to the hill fort to report to the leaders of the joint barbarian/Glynden army.  As they began making their way south with the clearing some distance off to their left, they heard a cry in the tongue of the barbarians.  Ilrath made his way quickly and quietly toward the clearing with the rest of the party in tow.

From just beyond the clearing, they could make out four barbarian warriors accompanied by a pair of large brown bears, charging into the flank of the retreating orcish stragglers.  In moments, the orcs had recovered from their initial surprise and began to encircle the group.  The barbarians slashed out with axes and claws felling dozens of orcs in the initial moments of battle.

Ilrath gripped his axe grimly, wanting nothing more than to charge into battle to aid his fellows.  But he was barely standing with fatigue and wounds and poison.  Speaks laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "They are already dead.  You cannot aid them and we will need you to fight tomorrow."  Ilrath knew that the wise druid spoke the truth and muttered a quiet oath as he backed away.  As the group retreated back into the obscurity of the woods, they saw that two of the barbarians had fought their way clear of the orcs and were fleeing back toward the hill fort.  A few orcs gave chase but were quickly outdistanced by the fleet footed Fodorans.

The party continued to make their way quietly south and within half an hour they were approaching the hill fort.  They gave out a shout so that they wouldn't be mistaken for orcs in the confusion and shot.

As they approached the palisade, they could see that it was in bad shape.  Almost the entire northern side of the outer palisade had been torn down and now lay in a quagmire of mud from the hillside.  Other sections of the wall were on fire.  Dead and wounded were everywhere but were quickly being dealt with (barbarians being helped inside the intact inner wall and orcs being put to the sword).

Speaks quickly broke off from the party to try and aid the wounded where he could.  Krase and Rhys went to speak to Kyndalyn and Ilrath reported to Hrongar.

Kyndalyn seemed pleased to see the boys from Glynden alive but he had little time to speak to them at first.  He was busily giving orders to repair sections of the palisade where possible, douse fires and police up weapons in the case of another attack by the orcs.  After several more minutes of directing the troops, he came over and sat heavily on a log near Rhys and Krase.  "It has been one hell of a morning."

Looking around, the boys from Glynden could tell that it had indeed been one hell of a morning.  In addition to the hundreds of dead orcs and barbarians, a huge swath of the hillside appeared burnt along with a majority of the tents on the hilltop.  Kyndalyn explained the events of the last several days:

The orcs had arrived near the hill fort three nights ago.  They could be heard moving off in the woods but they didn't approach close enough to be spotted.  Then, they set the woods on fire and burned the huge clearing that now existed.  When the smoke cleared, the ice fortress stood at the far end of the field, seemingly having sprung up overnight.

The orcish army seemed in no particular hurry to attack and spent some time settling into camp.  Kyndalyn was not surprised by this as he expected that the orcs would attack at nighttime when they would be at their greatest advantage.  He was surprised when they began forming up for battle in the mid-afternoon of yesterday and came charging at the barbarian fortress.

This was the event that the combined forces had been waiting for and they were prepared.  Uncle Claudius and the elven Wizard/Merchant let fly with a volley of fireballs that staggered the front lines of the approaching orcs.  The pair of wizards had been vigorously preparing scrolls so that they would be able to continue pounding the advancing orcs and inflicting huge casualties on them.

As the orcs drew closer, the fireballs relented and the barbarian shamans had their turn at the orcs.  They had all been practicing the spell that Speaks had taught them and now they put that practice into effect.  Vines and tree roots sprang from under the trampled snow and began to envelop the legs and arms of the advancing orcs.  This further broke up their formations and the large number of orcs were now advancing as a huge, unorganized mass.

The barbarian and Glynden archers then began sending volley after volley of arrows among the entangled orcs, killing another couple score.  The lead elements of the orcs came crashing into the palisade.  The orcs hacked at the timbers with their axes as the barbarians manning the wall hacked at the orcs.  Ropes were thrown by the orcs across the weakened sections of palisade and in a few places it was pulled down.  But many an orc paid for this offense with his life.

Without warning, a cry went out among the orcs and they began to retreat.  As quickly as it had begun, the attack was over.  The barbarians had suffered only a handful of dead and maybe a score of wounded.  At least two hundred orcs lay dead in front of the fortifications.  All in all, a resounding victory that surpassed Kyndalyn's wildest hopes.

The sections of palisade that had been toppled were quickly repaired and the wounded were tended to by the shamans.  As darkness fell, a great deal of celebration took place and the combined forces of Glynden and the Fodor were anxious to have another go at the orcs.

During the night, several small groups of orcish archers made small feints against the fortress.  They inflicted little damage but each time they attacked, the defenders were forced to cast some sort of light in the area they were attacking from (mostly by using a supply of Sunrods that Tadius had made available for a very reasonable price).  Then the Glynden archers with their superior long bows would shoot at the orcs until they were driven back into the darkness.

Only a few behind the palisade wall were wounded by the archers although one unfortunate guardsman from Glynden was struck and killed in his sleep.  But by morning, Kyndalyn was looking with some consternation at how low their supply of arrows was getting.

After the devastating loss they'd been handed yesterday, Kyndalyn was astounded when the orcs formed up again to attack this morning.  Uncle Claudius was roused and prepared to unleash more of his fireballs.  Tadius was completing his spell preparation but would soon report atop the hill to aid in the continued roasting of the orcish army.

Just as the orcs were getting into the maximum range of the fireballs, the side of the hill exploded in flames.  Uncle Claudius was killed instantly and several of the leaders including Hrongar and Urdrax were wounded.  Shamans rushed to their aid but just as they arrived, the hillside was shrouded in silence and their chants of healing could not be uttered.

In the confusion, the Wyrm was spotted above.  Kyndalyn rushed out of the _Silenced_ area and gave orders to his archers to start firing at it.  They did so but the thing was surrounded by a chaotic, swirling mass of colors that made it difficult to hit.  It had also climbed high enough to stay out of range of most of their attacks.

Returning his attention to the field of battle, Kyndalyn saw that the orcs were still approaching unmolested.  The hillside was in chaos as many of the barbarians were trying to put out the fires that burned on the inner palisade and among the tents.  Kyndalyn looked desperately for the shamans who were being counted on to break up the orcish charge with their spells.  He saw that Urdrax, chieftain of the Brigantes was bodily hurling the confused shamans out of the area where the silence lingered.  They began to realize the situation and by ones and twos they started to turn the approach to the fortress into a tangle of grasping roots and vines.

Kyndalyn told his archers to forget about the Wyrm and to start putting arrows into the orcish ranks.

That was the last order he gave to any group of more than a few men.  He ran down to fight on the front lines with the barbarian warriors.  After that, he rather lost sight of the big picture but he could tell that, although the barbarians were dealing out casualties faster than they were taking them, there were a lot more orcs.  The outer palisade was falling in large chunks and a fighting retreat up the hill to the inner palisade was going to cost a lot of lives.  Things looked very grim.

And then, just as before, the orcs began calling a retreat.  Instead of an orderly backing off supported by their superior numbers, they just turned and ran.  Without the palisade to contain them this time, many of the barbarians pursued the fleeing orcs a short distance and many an orc was cut down from behind.  Why exactly the orcs began to flee when they still outnumbered the barbarians by more than two to one was a mystery or a miracle or both.

Rhys offered that he may have the answer to the mystery.  He described how they had assaulted the ice fortress which was practically unguarded during the battle.  He detailed the battle with the Banelar, who seemed to be the same creature as the Wyrm that Kyndalyn had referred to.  Rhys surmised that the Wyrm must have been the leader of the orcish army.  Knowing that many, if not all, of the orcish shamans possessed the Amulets of Communication and that the Banelar seemed to have a similar device, he supposed that when the Banelar was hard pressed by the party, he had called for aid from his shamans and they had sounded the retreat to the rest of the army.

Kyndalyn responded that if that was indeed what happened, the party had undoubtedly saved a great many lives inside the remains of the hill fort and may well have prevented the utter defeat of the allied forces.  Knowing that they had fought a desperate battle that morning and seeing that both Rhys and Krase looked pale and wan from the poison of the Banelar, Kyndalyn told them to get some rest because if the orcs attacked again, it would take every man they could muster to resist them.

The pair walked up hill to where Kyndalyn's command tent stood, one of the few tents that still stood atop the hill.  They found a dry corner and collapsed.  After a bit of rest, Rhys pulled out the magical Candle of Identification and proceeded to unlock the secrets of the three magical items they had recovered from the ice fortress and the Banelar.

By the late afternoon, he was happy to report his findings:  The small stone that had been orbiting the head of the Banelar was known as an _Ioun Stone_ and this particular one gave the bearer a natural increase in his defenses.  The headband had the ability to boost the intelligence of the wearer and also incorporated the abilities of one of the Amulets of Communication at a somewhat increased capacity.  By far the most curious of the items was the metal flask.  It had three words engraved on it in Draconic.  When unstoppered and one of these words spoken, water would pour forth from the bottle in either a "Stream", "Fountain" or "Geyser".

Eager to test this newfound item, Rhys went to the collection of barrels encircling a fire that served as the camp water supply.  Several of the barrels were almost empty, having been used to douse fires along the palisade.  Rhys quickly filled them using the bottle.  Much pleased with this, he reported his find to Kyndalyn and told him that he was exhausted and needed sleep but that Kyndalyn was welcome to make whatever use he could of the bottle, during the night.  Kyndalyn thanked him and set about trying to find a use for the bottle.

Krase, Rhys and Speaks awoke in the morning, feeling slightly better but still weak from the Banelar's poison.  They emerged from the command tent and saw that a vast sheet of ice extended from the base of the hill off to the north.  Several large portions of the outer palisade had been patched with walls of ice.

The party slowly made their way down slope and encountered a smiling Kyndalyn.

"I think I know where they got that ice fortress," he said.

He handed the bottle back to Rhys and explained that they had run the water all night.  The frigid air of the northlands had quickly turned it into a sheet of ice, which Kyndalyn figured would be very difficult for the orcs to cross.  As dawn had risen, he discovered that he had little reason to worry.  It appeared that the orcs had left the field of battle.  The siege was ended for now.

Krase was immediately worried at the prospect of having half a thousand orcs roaming the countryside, whereabouts unknown.  He, Rhys and Speaks made their way carefully across the ice (where many a fallen orc was entombed) and across the open battlefield.  As they went, they were able to piece together some details of the battle from where the bodies lay.

A bit over halfway across, they came to where the Brigantes and the Totem Warriors (the were-bears) had fought.  There was a big ring of dead orcs around where they had fought.  The bodies of the fallen warriors were not in evidence and neither were the orc-slaying weapons they had been carrying.

In the vicinity of the ice fortress, they found evidence of another battle having taken place and discovered the bodies of nearly a hundred orcs.  Leading away to the north and northwest respectively were two sets of tracks.  The group heading to the northwest (the direction from which the orcs had initially approached) was clearly the larger of the two groups.  The party concluded that there must have been some kind of rift between the orcs that had occurred in absence of their leader.  This had ultimately led to a fight that left a hundred orcs dead before the two groups departed the scene.

Speaks transformed himself into an eagle and took to wing to locate the remaining orcs.  He first flew north and soon found a group of about a hundred orcs moving steadily northwards under the cover of the forest.  Their destination was unknown but they seemed to be in no shape to turn around and resume their attack on the hill fort anytime soon.

Speaks then veered off to the west and located the other group of orcs.  They seemed to number around three hundred and were moving back along the trail that they had followed from their headquarters at the foot of the mountains.  They too seemed beaten and bloody.  Speaks turned around and made his way back to the hill fort.

In the meantime Krase and Rhys went inside the ice fortress again and discovered that a big hole had been dug in the floor where they had earlier had spotted the rectangular object under the ice.  Rhys cursed aloud at this.  Whatever treasure the orcs had brought with them had been carried off before he could loot it.  He spent the remainder of the afternoon using his ability to _Detect Magic_ to scan the battlefield for any treasure buried under the ice.  He managed to turn up a few shamanic scrolls among the orcish dead, none of which he could use.

Reports began to come in from the Allmani scouts who were monitoring the retreat of the larger group of orcs.  They seemed to be making best speed back to wherever they had come from and showed no signs of turning around.  Scouts also searched for the other group but they had already moved at least as far north as the Nervii lands.  It seemed that the orcish army was, for the moment at least, shattered and no longer a threat.

The war was over and it was time to lick wounds and count the dead.

*NEXT:  Aftermath*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Aftermath*

Uncle Claudius had been killed in the first instant of the Banelar's fireball attack.  Tadius Silvanus had, fortunately, just begun heading for the slope of the hill and wasn't caught in the blast.  He was later able to send a couple of fireballs into a group of orcs working their way around to the undefended rear of the fort.

Hrongar was standing very near to Uncle Claudius when the fireball hit.  He was badly burned and unconscious by the time the shamans arrived to aid him.  When they were struck by the silence, they tried to drag him free and heal him.  Urdrax realized that if the shamans didn't start entangling the battlefield that the orcs were going to arrive uncontested at the palisade and the battle would be over before it had begun.  He carried Hrongar out of the flames himself and sent the shamans to cast their entanglements.  By the time they got back to Hrongar, he was dead.  The fortress would henceforth be known as Hrongar's Hill.

The barbarians had suffered nearly a third of their warriors killed, mostly in bitter fighting along the collapsing outer palisade.  Also lost were most of the Brigantes warriors that had comprised the other harrying force sent out to parallel the party, including three of their Totem Warriors.  When the orcs had retreated to aid their Banelar master, the Brigantes group was lurking in the woods looking for an opportunity to attack.  They saw that the entire northern side of the outer palisade was down and that nearly a hundred barbarian dead and wounded were staggering in this gap.  Fearing that the orcs may have decided to turn around for another go at the hill fort, the warriors had charged the retreating flank.  In the end, the six of them left another three score dead orcs on the field and solidified the orcish rout.

The forces of Glynden fared somewhat better.  Serving in the capacity of archers and combat engineers, the guardsmen were out of the worst of the fighting.  They lost slightly less than a fifth of their number.  The dwarves who had accompanied them had been right up front among the barbarians but their heavy armor and natural skill at fighting orcs had served them well.  They lost only a handful of their number.

In their absence from the fortress, word had gotten around about the party having discovered the Halls of Durgeddin within the Stone Tooth.  A group of dwarves approached the party to confirm these stories.  The dwarves indicated that as soon as they could summon their cousins from the Novantae Highlands, they would be going to take back the Stone Tooth from the "damned, accursed, sons of Orcs - The Duergar".

Also killed in the fighting was Wamic, underchief of the Nervii.  He had thrust himself into the fighting on the first day and was wounded.  He had been among the leaders caught in the fireball but lived to return to the fighting and had died a warrior's death holding one of the many gaps in the palisade.

Seshmarl, the young chieftain of the Allmani had distinguished himself in battle by proving to be a great leader of men.  He seemed to have an intuitive grasp of tactics and know precisely where the next orcish thrust would come from.  In the aftermath of the battle, the scouting by the Allmani to insure that the orcs were truly retreating all the way back into the Blackpeaks further elevated the status of Seshmarl.  He is one of the rising stars among the tribes of the Fodor.

Relmar of the Suevi could not say the same.  He had made a rather fateful decision never to sign the pact the other tribes had made with Glynden.  He also didn't approve of the fortress being constructed in the lands of the Brigantes and had pulled many of his warriors from the site to construct fortifications of his own within the lands of the Suevi.  The fact that he had left more than half of his men to help defend the hill fort was largely overshadowed by his earlier decision to remain firmly outside the alliance on a personal level.  Although the warriors of the Suevi who were present at Hrongar's Hill fought bravely, the Suevi have suffered a stain on their honor at the hands of their rash young chief.  (As a side note, Relmar has wed himself to the Suevi shaman, Orthula.  She is now with child and Speaks With Stone is not sure whether he is the father.)

Two days following the battle, Speaks adopted his eagle form and flew east across the Fodor to where the non-combatants were encamped.  Theirs was a sorry lot.  They had suffered a few attacks from the Gnolls that still roamed the Western Wilds and there were a few wounded.  But their main problem was a lack of shelter.  They had hastily constructed a large cluster of hide tents and primitive lean-tos to shelter the children and aged.  Otherwise, they were forced to keep large bonfires burning at all times to stave off the northlands winter.

Speaks informed them of the victory against the orcs and proceeded to stay for a few more days to heal the sick and wounded and provide some assistance in getting them moving toward the Fodor so that they could begin to move back into their villages.  He provided some relief from the worst of their hunger using his _Goodberries_ spell.

Before the warriors from the various tribes dispersed from Hrongar's Hill to return to their homes, a celebration was in order.  In the absence of the unifying figure of Hrongar, Urdrax was the obvious leader of the ceremonies.  Never one for pretty speeches, he confined his words to a short but inspirational memorial to the fallen and the exhortation to the living to drink deeply of the ale stores.  It would save some weight on their return home.

Of course, no celebration would have been complete without the honoring of those who had played such a pivotal role in the acquisition of the Orc-Slaying weapons, the scouting and harrying of the orcish army and the ultimate slaying of the Wyrm-leader of the horde (whose skull now adorned the standard of the Corritani).  Many accolades were heaped upon the party members including Ilrath.  Their cooperation was held up as an example of the prosperity that could be achieved through the new peace with the people of Glynden.  Ilrath was hailed as the champion of the Corritani.  Gifts were commissioned for Rhys, Krase and Speaks.

Speaks was given a spear, hand made by Wulfrax of the Brigantes.  It was made in honor of his fallen friend and given the name The Fang of Arc (masterwork longspear).  Privately, the tribal shamans gave him some more potion ingredients.  Krase was also gifted with a finely crafted weapon: A magnificent bow dubbed Hawk's Wrath fashioned by a boyer of the Allmani (masterwork mighty composite short bow +1).  Somewhat at a loss for what to give the sorcerer who has everything, Rhys was awarded with an item that was purchased from Tadius Silvanus.  It was a magical scroll case imbued with the power to instantly bring forth any scroll stored inside with but a word.  According to the elf, it was know as Salrokk's Splendid Scrollcase, after it's creator.

With the end of the celebrations, the various tribesmen departed to rejoin their friends and families and to rebuild from the damage left in the wake of the orcish horde.  Their stores of food were lower than they would like and it would take a lot of hunting to feed the tribes through the rest of the winter, but they would make it.  They had survived an enormous army who had threatened to consume (literally) their whole way of life.  For now, that was enough.

Speaks settled in to spend the majority of his winter among the tribes of the Fodor.  He had to make good on his promise to teach more of his ways to the tribal shamans and he also wanted to spend some time studying the languages of some of the creatures he could summon.  The ability to _Comprehend Languages_ that the shamans had taught him, only worked within the lands of the Fodor.  He also needed some private time to mourn the loss of Arc.

The lads from Glynden were loathe to depart from their friend, Speaks.  But they had been long away from their homes and families.  They promised to reunite with the druid when he returned to Glynden before spring.  They also said a fond farewell to their friend Ilrath.  Although they had been distrustful of one another at the start, they had come to rely on the strong arm and stout constitution of the steadfast barbarian.  He told them as they left that he had been advised of the need to form an expedition to the Blackpeaks.  As the champion of the Corritani, he would lead a group to determine if the orcs were massing for another attack and to locate the City of Endless Summer from whence they originated.  He would be happy to have his old friends by his side.

Krase and Rhys both said that they would be back to aid the expedition if they could get matters settled at home (Krase had been chomping at the bit to smite some Gnolls - They are his favored enemy and it pained him mightily to abandon the fight against them in favor of dealing with the orcs, especially with the coin of the Iron Auxilia still in their posession).  With smiles, they parted ways and made the journey back to Glynden.

At home, they were celebrated at least as much as they were in the lands across the Fodor.  They were also gifted with an unexpected prize:  In recognition for their efforts during the war and for getting the agreements from the barbarians to stay on their side of the river, each of them (including Speaks, but not Ilrath) would receive one percent of the annual profits from the mines of Aquae Sulis as soon as they could be reopened.  The future looked prosperous indeed.

*NEXT:  Old Enemies, New Challenges*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Old Enemies, New Challenges*

_The following is cut directly from the e-mail sent to the players to set the stage for the next chapter of the campaign.  This is based on the activities the characters indicated they wished to pursue during the remaining winter months as well as some conjecture on my part to fill in the gaps.

A further note, the party ultimately kept the Ioun Stone (+1 natural armor) and gave it to Rhys.  They also kept the Everflowing Bottle.  They traded the Headband of Intellect/Communication to the elven wizard, Tadius Silvanus in exchange for some cash and lots of "store credit" all of which they promptly spent on other things.

Among them were a wide variety of scrolls to fatten Rhys' scrollcase, a partially charged wand of Knock (Rhys' lock picking skills have atrophied in favor of his sorcerous abilities), a masterwork short sword for Krase and a pair of wands of Cure Light Wounds that Speaks and Tadius collaborated on (now that they have so much healing magic available, I can really unleash the damage on them).

The decision was made to deal with the Gnolls once and for all.  Then, they hope to make it back to the lands of the Fodor in time to catch up with Ilrath's expedition to the City of Endless Summer.  Part of their reasoning for going after the Gnolls first was that they wanted to see how the party stood without the muscle that Ilrath (the NPC) afforded them._

The hints of spring are returning to the northlands after what is easily the most memorable winter in your lifetimes.  The last few months have been a wonderful break from the intense days of the fall and early winter.

Once back in Glynden, you were welcomed as heroes and your tongues have almost grown weary with having to tell and retell the tales of your journey to the barbarian lands, your perilous delve into the Stone Tooth, the slaying of Nightscale, the hit and run battles against the orcish patrols and the glorious defeat of the wyrmlike leader of the orcs which ultimately spelled their defeat.  Fortunately, there have been ample mugs of ale bought for you at Nan's Tavern to soak your weary tongues in.  Another question very frequently asked of you is, "What is next in store for the heroes of Glynden?"

Your answer that you intend to deal a blow to the Gnolls that will make them reconsider interfering with the affairs of men is universally met with approval.  Such talk invariably brings on another round of drinks and you begin to wonder whether you'll be sober enough to fight the Gnolls come springtime.

The winter also saw the eventual departure of the elven wizard, Tadius Silvanus who has crafted so many scrolls to fill Rhys' new scrollcase.  He promised to return to Glynden come spring and bring with him a new bounty of magical oddities to be purchased with the wealth that would soon be flowing from the silver mines.

Recruitment for the town guard is at an all time high with the other guardsmen returning from across the Fodor with tales of glory against the orcs.  A few of the men that made the westward journey didn't come home.  They lay buried in the ice hardened earth at the foot of Hrongar's Hill, alongside the barbarian warriors who fought next to them.  But these casualties are overlooked in favor of the bounty they have brought the town.  Krase has aided Kyndalyn in training some of the new recruits.  Although unwilling to settle down to become a guard captain yet, Krase found this a good way to stay in practice and work off some of the "ale-belly" he had been acquiring at Nan's.

Rhys has spent his time unlocking some of his new magical abilities and idling the winter months with Isabeau.  She has been offered a place among the serving staff at Castellan Cassuvius now that her parents are deceased.  Apparently, she has recieved a good deal of attention from some of the other young men that dwell there, but has carried a torch for Rhys during his long stint away from home.  He has much enjoyed her affections when she has journeyed into town from Castellan Cassuvius.
But Rhys' newfound celebrity has also drawn the glances of many of the other young women in town (including some he previously considered out of his league).  Of course, most of these young ladies have admirers of their own who are less than pleased by these glances.  That, combined with Isabeau's frequent use of the word "marriage" have started to give Rhys itchy feet.

As winter began to release its icy hold on the northlands, a group of dwarves, two score in strength came into the town.  They had travelled from Novantae to join the dwarves of Glynden in mounting an expedition to reclaim the Stone Tooth from the loathsome Duergar.  Among those who joined this venture was Wakenzaki, Krase's dwarven "Grandfather".  Although he has grown old and may not be the warrior he once was, Krase's tales of adventure in the west along with dreams of spending his waning years brewing ale in the Glitterhame proved a powerful pull. This group of dwarves asked for as much information as the party could provide about the interior of the mountain and the denizens therein. They also fattened the town coffers with gold and copper from the east that paid for needed supplies and equipment before they made their way to the west.

All of this activity has left the town bursting with energy.  The council wants to send a group to look into reopening the mines of Aquae Sulis as soon as the first crops have been planted.  They need an assessment of the area around the mines and town.  Considering that the party says they are heading in that direction anyway, they are asked to provide this information.

Much of that task turns out to be quite easy.  Speaks has gathered a flock of birds to him that are providing a great deal of information about the area west of Glynden.  He is rather shocked to discover that the ruins of Aquae Sulis are presently home to a large group of Gnolls. It is difficult to ascertain their precise numbers (birdbrains and all) but somewhere between 75 and 150 Gnolls including females and cubs presently inhabit the ruins (They still appear to be avoiding the Wizard's Tower).  In addition, more groups of Gnolls are presently moving southward out of the Darkwood toward the general direction of the ruins.

This is a cause for much consternation among the council.  They obviously cannot send an expedition of non-combatants to reclaim the silver mines if the Gnolls are present.  They also cannot send a large body of troops to confront the Gnolls (This is for several reasons, chief among them that any such group must necessarily be composed largely of green recruits or leave the town defended by green recruits.).  The idea is floated that the barbarians be asked for help (turnabout being fair play).  That idea was quickly discarded for a variety of reasons.  The barbarians are short of manpower right now anyway.  And inviting a large group of their warriors back across the Fodor when they have only just been persuaded to abandon that area permanently seems a bad idea.

For now, the plans for Glynden to expand back into Aquae Sulis and reopen the silver mines there (which each of you now own a 1% share in) are very much in jeopardy.  Perhaps the three heroes of the Winter War could better the chances for the prosperity of the town and themselves.

*NEXT:  Encamped at the Doorstep of Danger*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Encamped at the Doorstep of Danger*

Based on the aerial reconnaissance provided by Speaks' flock of birds (he has approximately 40-50 small birds as animal friends totaling 10 HD), the party knew that there was a large concentration of Gnolls in the ruins of Aquae Sulis and that they were being joined by more groups trickling in from the north.  After some debate on the best course of action, they decided to just launch an attack on the Gnolls to "test their defenses".

They decided that they would need a safe spot to retreat to (their estimate of their own capabilities fell short of being able to slay the whole Gnoll encampment in one try).  The obvious choice for this was the abandoned wizard's tower on the eastern outskirts of Aquae Sulis.  They knew that the Gnolls avoided it anyway (thanks to the statues just inside that appeared to be Gnolls who had been turned to stone) and it was close enough to easily run to.

To be certain to avoid any Gnolls during their trek to the vicinity, they angled southwest upon leaving Glynden, staying on the southern side of the low ridge in which the mine of Aquae Sulis lay.  After three days, they turned north and came over top of the ridge to approach the ruins from the south.

As they crossed over the ridge and began their descent into the valley between the ridge and the Darkwood, they spotted a pair of small faces staring at them from a bush roughly a hundred feet away.  A moment later, the faces ducked back behind the bush.  The only thing the party could be sure of was that they had sort of dog/lizard look about them.  Keeping careful watch, they continued on, watchful for the dog-lizards.

A short while later, they came to a clearing on the hillside.  Through the trees, which still hadn't regained their foliage from winter, they could make out the low walls of the town below.  They angled off to the east to approach the wizard's tower.  As they went, they could hear the sounds of the Gnoll woodcutters in the distance.

Back in Glynden, they had received some information about the tower from an unexpected quarter:  Council Member Nacalius.  He was no friend to the party as they had left on their journey to the lands across the Fodor in the fall.  But given the success of that endeavor and the hero status gained by the party in the interim, he was doing whatever he could to downplay his opposition to aiding the barbarians.  As his brother had lived (and died) in Aquae Sulis, he was familiar with the tower and its origins.

_It was built many years ago by a wizard named Byrne (For anyone interested, I used the tower map from the 1st Edition Village of Hommlet adventure.) who had come to the northlands seeking solitude to pursue his arcane studies.  Glynden was too bustling for his tastes and he settled in Aquae Sulis.  He never had much to do with the townsfolk to begin with.  After he took on an elven apprentice, he was almost never seen as he sent the elf to do his errands about town.

As with most wizards, he had a reputation for eccentricity.  In particular, he had a fascination with dragons.  This was convenient as he now lived at the end of the Dragon Tail range in the very shadow of The Dragon.  He was constantly sending out his apprentice to the surrounding towns to gather tales about The Dragon.  Many a round of drinks was purchased in payment for even the most minor bits of information (many of which were obvious lies) concerning the creature.

Finally, some six or seven years ago, Byrne announced that he was going on an expedition to seek out The Dragon.  He made sure that it was known in Aquae Sulis that should he not return, the elf was to inherit the tower.  That was the last anyone had seen of him.

A year after that, a series of raids by the barbarians weakened the town's defenses and a group of Gnolls dealt the final blow to Aquae Sulis.  The elf never showed up in any of the surrounding towns and it was presumed that he either fled the region entirely or was killed fighting the Gnolls._

They arrived outside the tower and without preamble, ascended the stairs that led to the drawbridge. Things appeared much as they had left them:  The three Gnolls-turned-statues stood just beyond the threshold with evidence that they had killed a robed figure as they had become stone.

The party ascended the stairs to the upper floor of the tower and here they found something that they didn't expect.  The large painting of a black dragon that had hung on the wall above the stairs was missing.  Obviously someone had been here during the winter.

A further search of the bedroom on the same floor revealed that the finely crafted chest that had been left there by Rhys (after he looted the contents) was also missing.  There was no other evidence that someone had stayed in the tower for any length of time.

The party cautiously explored the upper levels of the tower and found that the other room on the upper floor was a library.  Unfortunately, the shutters inside were open and foul weather over the last half-decade had ruined almost all the books.  Two were found that were in relatively good condition: One about dragons and another that was a history of the Slave Wars in Emor.

Above the upper tower level was a narrower turret reached by a ladder.  In the bottommost turret level, they found the tiny bedroom and study containing little of interest save a slightly rusty rapier and the apprentice's spellbook.  The book contained a number of minor cantrips and a few spells of a basic nature.  It was clearly not the tome of an archmage but they held onto it thinking that perhaps Tadius Silvanus would be interested when he returned to Glynden.

Above that, the top turret level was one large room with several tables.  This was clearly a laboratory for alchemy of various sorts.  The room was dirty and unkempt but the alchemical equipment was mostly intact.  Various ingredients were stacked neatly in jars and bottles and from these, Rhys was able to replenish the waning contents of his component pouch.

The lower levels of the tower held little of interest.  The first floor beneath the entry level was clearly a kitchen.  It featured a rather mundane set of utensils above a simple wood stove and the larder contained nothing that remained edible.  There was however a small wine rack that held several bottles of fine wine and two bottles of what turned out to be single malt Novantae scotch.

The bottom level was a single large room that was used for storage.  Its only prominent feature was a pair of large bins that contained a small amount of coal and a pile of rotted logs respectively.  A short underground passage led to a small spring, obviously used as a water supply and for cold storage.  From hooks in the ceiling hung some pots of spoiled mead.

The party spent the remainder of the afternoon with Rhys and Speaks thoroughly searching the library for any more salvageable books and Krase doing a meticulous (took 20) search of the bottom floor of the tower (for some reason, he was absolutely certain that there was an underground passage that led into Aquae Sulis).  The library yielded no more legible texts and the only thing that Krase uncovered was a nest of giant centipedes that lived in the rotted log pile.  He was able to kill them without being bitten but somehow the sensation was somewhat of a letdown after the epic battles with the orcs and the fighting he anticipated with the Gnolls.

In the evening, the party gathered in the upper level of the turret from where they could barely make out the rooftops of Aquae Sulis some 200-300 yards away.  They spent the next couple of hours discussing their plan of attack and then bedded down for the night.

*NEXT:  Battle Royalle*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Battle Royalle*

The party decided that the fog that hung in the valley in the cool spring mornings would make excellent cover for their approach to Aquae Sulis.  They would approach from the southeast toward a largely intact section of wall.

Speaks' scouting had given them a fairly clear picture of the Gnolls' routines.  They spent most of their waking hours cutting wood for the palisades that patched the town wall and re-thatching the roofs of the mostly intact buildings.  Gnoll guards stood watch at all the entrances to the town at all times.

They departed the tower in the pre-dawn dimness and quietly made their way southwest.  They made an intentionally circuitous route to the town in the hopes of disguising where they were camped.  Emerging from the cover of the woods, they crept as quietly as possible toward the section of wall they wished to target.  They all felt lighter on their feet as they went, thanks to Rhys' new spell.

(The party was very "buffed" for this battle.  Rhys had given all three of them Cat's Grace and Spider Climb.  Thanks to Speaks, Rhys and Krase both had Barkskin.)

As they made their way across the open field toward the walls, Speaks twice conjured an _Obscuring Mist_ around them to increase the intensity of the fog.  Thus, they made their way to the wall undetected.

Peeking over the wall, they saw the Gnoll guards right where they expected them to be.  Speaks crept around the end of the wall so that he could see along the eastern wall of the town.  Then he conjured a swath of _Spike Growth_ that extended across the eastern entrance to the town and went off into the fog, beyond his sight.  Moments later, cries of pain were heard in the foggy distance.

All three members of the party used the _Spider Climb_ ability to easily scale the eight foot high wall.  Krase and Rhys began to fire their bows at the closest of the Gnolls while Speaks blanked the area in one of his _Entangle_ spells.

As the Gnolls suddenly became aware that they were under attack, the closest dove into the remains of a nearby building amid a hail of missile fire by Rhys and Krase.  As it turned out, this was a classic case of "out of the firing range, into the fire" as Speaks conjured a _Flaming Sphere_ on the rooftop of the building.

With their primary target out of sight for the moment, Rhys and Krase turned their fire on one of the Gnolls caught in the entangled area.  The Gnoll cried out for help from his fellows, "They're killing me out here!"  Krase kept up his barrage of fire on the hapless Gnoll as Rhys scampered back and forth on the top of the wall, seeking an unobstructed line of fire on some of the other Gnolls.  Speaks gleefully drove his ball of fire across the thatch rooftop and then had it leap across to the roof of an adjacent building.  Sensing that the Gnolls were beginning to get organized in the interior of the town, he dropped another _Entangle_ beyond the first one.  This effectively blocked the majority of access to the southern exit of the town.

The few Gnolls who were inside the building nearest to the section of wall occupied by the party began to fire back with short bows while frantically trying to figure out how to escape from both the burning building and the entangling vines beyond.  They had a very difficult time penetrating the defenses of party (thanks to the Cat's Grace and Barkskin).

With a final cry of "And now they've killed me!" the Gnoll who Krase had been shooting fell to the ground.  Another nearby, who was also entangled, quickly fell as well.  The pair in the burning building had managed to flee while avoiding the grasping vines.  Speaks was gleefully sending his _Flaming Sphere_ from rooftop to rooftop, setting fires to the buildings most likely to be inhabited by the Gnolls.

The Gnolls were in full retreat, but sounded like they were regrouping in the center of town.  Off in the fog was the sound of a group of them leaving through the southern wall and coming toward the party.  They had a long distance to travel in order to avoid the pair of entangled areas (that spell is absolutely huge).  Krase dropped off the wall and readied his swords to receive the oncoming Gnolls.

As they came running out of the fog, Speaks allowed the first two to get fairly close.  Then he dropped a third _Entangle_ on the remainder of the group and snared several of them.  One pair in particular were tantalizingly close to the edge of the vines but couldn't seem to break free (keep an eye on these guys, they turn out to be a lot of fun).  This latest _Entangle_ combined with the other two surrounded the party on three sides.  The only approach the Gnolls could take to assault the party that would spare them the grasping vines and roots was a narrow alley barely ten feet wide.  In this narrow space, Krase went to work with his swords.

Krase and Speaks were both still atop the wall which made them hard for the Gnolls to reach.  They easily danced above the axes of the Gnolls and began to rain havoc down among them.  Speaks opened up with another _Flaming Sphere_ that sewed fires among the entangled Gnolls.  Rhys fired his crossbow at point blank range into the chest of one of their attackers.  The Gnoll grunted in pain but pressed on (not a hard decision since his only real avenue of retreat was into the grasping vines).

A short distance away, several gnolls struggled against nature's bonds and a few managed to escape to join the fray (but not either of the pair who were only five feet from the edge of the spell's effect).  Another cast a spell at Rhys who briefly felt fear rising in his gut, but the young Sorcerer fought off the effects with ease.  Another who wielded a fearsome looking heavy flail also attempted a spell but a root digging into his thigh interrupted his concentration.

Those of the Gnolls who managed to escape the vines and roots found themselves replacing some of their fallen brothers who fought the fearsome Krase.  Krase was plunging his gladii into one Gnoll after another, mercilessly.  He was finally getting some revenge against his hated enemies who he had last encountered when they sent him fleeing like a scampering doe across the Fodor.

Speaks noted that some of the Gnolls in the entanglement were attempting to cast spells and rammed into one of them with his ball of fire.  Rhys scurried along the wall to get into position to use one of his wands on the Gnolls.  The Gnolls who attacked them were finding them almost impossible to hit.

Another Gnoll broke loose from the entanglement and went to engage the party.  The pair close to the edge could hear the fibers of their woodland bonds straining but still could not free themselves (They needed an 18 on their Str check to get free.  This round I rolled 17's for both of them.).  Those near Krase had him up against the wall but their weapons could not find a way through his armor.

Then, the Gnoll with the heavy flail barked out words holy to his people and stretched out his hand toward Krase.  Suddenly, Krase found himself unable to move.

Speaks and Rhys glanced over to see how their friend fared and were horrified to see him helpless before his attackers.  Rhys fired off a _Sleep_ spell to knock out a pair of the Gnolls who threatened him.  Speaks sent his ball of fire at one of the Gnoll spellcasters to distract him.  Then he positioned himself to start using his sling against the Gnollish clerics.

The Gnolls nearest to Krase took advantage of his helplessness and began to deal him some terrible damage.

*To be continued…*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

When we last left our heroes, Krase had been _Held_ by the Gnollish cleric.  He was nearly surrounded by Gnoll warriors and Rhys and Speaks were some 15-20 feet away, dealing with threats to themselves…

(Ok.  This is where I screwed up.  In the midst of this combat, I totally forgot about the coup-de-grace rules.  I should have just had the Gnolls CDG Krase and it is very likely that he would have died.  I was not trying to pull any punches.  All I can say is that the only other time anybody in the campaign has even been close to being CDG'd was in the second session - a long time ago.  The rule just hasn't been used that much and I forgot about it.  I was also juggling about three other groups of Gnolls that I knew were off the map at that point, as well as the dozen or so that the party was actively engaged with.  So, Krase got away with one thanks to my forgetting that rule.  I regret that this happened but in light of how much fun we had the rest of the session, I can live with it.  I'll just have to kill him later.)

Rhys fired off a _Color Spray_ from his wand and engulfed several of the Gnolls who had penetrated the corridor between the entangles including a pair who threatened the helpless Krase.  Unfortunately, only one of the Gnolls succumbed to the effects of the spell, the others merely impressed by the pretty lights.  Speaks continued to ram away at one of the Gnoll clerics with his flaming sphere while he fired a sling stone at another one, missing entirely.

In turn, the Gnolls continued to hammer away at Krase, beating the warrior nearly to unconsciousness (Although I flubbed the CDG ruling, I was still having them hit him on anything but a 1).  To make matters worse, another small group of Gnolls came around the corner from the east and closed on the nearest target:  Krase.  Things looked grim indeed for the lad from Glynden.

The Gnolls who remained trapped in the entangled area were now classified in one of two groups.  There were the clerics who were attempting (and failing) to cast spells whilst being grappled by the vines and roots and then there were the pair of Gnoll warriors trapped right at the edge of the area who still couldn't pull free.  All in all, a fairly ineffective group at the moment.

Rhys dropped another _Sleep_ spell among Krase's attackers and a pair of them slumped to the ground.  This bought the warrior a few more seconds of life as only one could attack him now.  Speaks' ball of fire finally felled one of the Gnoll clerics before it poofed out of existence.  His next sling stone missed the mark, much like the last one.

The remaining Gnoll who faced Krase chopped into the lad from Glynden once more, desperately trying to bring him down.  Krase, helplessly receiving the barrage of attacks, saw the edges of his vision begin to go dark.  He knew that in just a few moments his life would be over.  Then he could suddenly move again.

The other Gnolls who had rounded the corner went past Krase and sought to engage the Druid and Sorcerer.  Just a few feet away, the entangled Gnoll warriors struggled in vain against their bonds while more spells were ruined for the clerics.

Also at this point, the roofs of several of the buildings that Speaks had set fire to started to collapse.  This offered an unobstructed view of Rhys (who stood atop the wall) to a trio of Gnolls inside the town.  They began to send arrows his way but so far, he managed to dodge them easily.
Rhys fired off another of his _Sleep_ spells into the group of Gnolls clustered at the base of the wall but only one succumbed to the spell.  He suffered an attack from one of them in the process but it missed by a large margin.  Speaks saw that Krase was free from whatever force had previously bound him and was bleeding from half a dozen wounds.  He began to make his way toward the wounded warrior, drawing out one of his healing wands in the process.

By this point, most of the Gnoll warriors in the entangle-less corridor had been killed, slept or knocked out with the _Color Spray_.  It looked as though the group might have a few moments to heal up before deciding their next move.  But then, the Gnoll cleric with the nasty looking three-balled heavy flail, burst free from the entanglement.  They knew that in just a moment, he would be close enough to begin swinging his fearsome weapon.

The other Gnoll cleric as well as the pair of warriors remained trapped within the entanglement and could only cheer on their ally.

Rhys turned and fired a crossbow bolt at the archers who were harassing him from inside the walls but the bolt went wide.  Krase move the short remaining distance toward his allies and put himself between them and the oncoming Gnoll cleric (this could be seen as heroic in some circumstances but he really had nowhere else to go and besides, that put him adjacent to the Druid so he could receive healing).  Speaks used his healing wand for the first time.  It almost seemed to sputter as it delivered its recuperative magics (Speaks' player rolled a 1, giving Krase a grand total of 2 additional hit points).

A trio of Gnoll warriors straggled around the southeastern corner of the town wall and ran to the aid of the cleric, filing into the narrow corridor between the grasping roots and tree branches.  As the entangled Gnolls gazed on, reduced to little more than a cheerleading section, the Gnoll cleric swung his flail overhead, shouting, "Yeenoghu!" (which Krase recognized as the name of the demon god of the Gnolls).  As he did so, all three party members winced as a small jolt of pain shot through them.  Rhys noticed the same expression of discomfort on the faces of the two Gnolls right behind the cleric.  Then the cleric swung his mighty flail at Krase only to have it bounce harmlessly off his mithral breastplate.  The cheering among the entangled Gnolls became a whimper of disappointment.

Krase dug his pair of swords into the Gnoll cleric causing a nasty pair of wounds that would have felled most of the Gnolls he had ever encountered.  But not this one.  Rhys fired another crossbow bolt down at the cleric, scoring a minor wound.  Speaks used his wand to heal Krase again and a feeble wisp of magic issued forth (rolled a 2 this time, giving Krase 3hp).

Undaunted at his previous miss, the Gnoll cleric again swung the flail over his head while crying out the profane name of his deity.  Again, each member of the party felt a jolt of pain.  Then he brought his weapon around in a forceful blow that hurled Krase to the ground, unconscious.  The other Gnolls cheered and those who were in the corridor between the entangles howled with bloodlust, anxious to attack the downed fighter.  But there was simply no room to get past the cleric.

Speaks used his wand on Krase once more and this time managed to get some real results.  Krase immediately stood up and plunged his magical gladius into the breast of the Gnoll cleric who spat blood back at the warrior.  The Gnoll knew that the warrior was barely standing and the next swing of his flail would likely send him to his doom.  But then, Rhys leveled his crossbow at the growling cleric and shot him at point blank range.  It wasn’t the most spectacular shot he ever made but it was enough.  The Gnoll fell to the ground.

The remainder of the Gnolls gazed at this scene with astonishment, then horror.  The pile of Gnoll bodies that occupied the unentangled swath of ground, topped with one of their most powerful clerics was more than their morale could handle.  They turned and ran, Krase cutting one down from behind as they did so.

The terror of it all actually inspired the remaining Gnoll cleric to break free and run as fast as his canine legs would carry him away from the party, yelling, "Retreat!  They're invincible!" as he went.  Not so for the pair of Gnoll warriors who had remained entangled within arms reach of the edge of the spell for the entire battle.  They still couldn't break their bonds and now that the rest of their compatriots were fleeing, they did the best they could to look like a pair of trees and hide in plain sight.

Fully enraged by such a brutal battle with his hated enemies, Krase paused only long enough for Speaks to give him a couple more doses of healing from the wand before he went tearing off after the retreating Gnolls.

Then Speaks spend a few more moments healing himself and Rhys from the minor wounds they had received during the battle.  Meanwhile Rhys set about killing the sleeping Gnolls (At this point in the session, Rhys' player says something about coup-de-grace-ing the sleeping Gnolls and I slap my forehead, realizing my mistake with Krase).  Then he cast _Detect Magic_ in the area of the battle to confirm that the flail was magical (he found nothing else of a magical nature in the area).

In the mean time, Krase had run all the way around two of the _Entangles_ (a considerable distance) and charged into the flank of a group of Gnolls that were forming up to defend the south entrance to the town.  Initially, the Gnolls were shying away from the warrior, his reputation as being invincible having preceded him.  But then, one of the other Gnoll clerics rallied them, crying out, "For Yeenoghu's sake, it's only one warrior!  Kill him!"

The Gnolls moved in to attack, swinging their axes as they went.  But Krase was nearly impossible to hit with his _Cat's Grace_ enhanced agility and _Barkskin_ to top things off.  He did however begin to realize that he was going to have a tough time defeating a dozen gnolls by himself, regardless of how tough he was to hit.  The point became entirely moot a moment later when he was targeted by a _Cause Fear_ spell by the cleric.

Speaks was just about to make the lengthy trek around the entangles to aid Krase when they heard him cry out in abject terror and begin to run *directly through the entangled area*, making a b-line for the safety of the tower (for once during the session, Krase made a saving throw and avoided the roots and vines).  He went streaking past Speaks and Rhys, screaming in fear.

The Druid and Sorcerer looked at each other and at the retreating Krase and said, "Well, I guess we're done for the day."

As they turned to leave, Rhys gestured to the pair of entangled Gnoll warriors who had spent the entire battle trapped just feet from freedom.  "What about these guys?  Should I kill them?"

The Gnolls (who spoke a smattering of Imperial) looked at each other in horror.

"Nah,", replied Speaks.

The Gnolls breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"just kill one.", the Druid continued as he pulled his ceremonial mask down over his face.

The Gnolls faces showed an expression of shock (if you can read their hyena faces that is) and without missing a beat, each pointed at the other and barked, "Kill him!"

Rhys looked back and forth at the pair as he loaded his crossbow and then calmly shot one right in the chest.  The Gnoll looked down at the bolt protruding from his midsection and then dropped to the ground.  The other Gnoll laughed at him in his distinctive hyena cackle.

Rhys slung his crossbow over his shoulder and turned to leave, following the Druid.  As he went, he glanced back at the pair of Gnolls and caught a glimpse of the one he had just shot looking around to see if they had left yet (he was playing possum).  Rhys raised his hand and shot forth a _Ray of Frost_ that finally did the Gnoll in.  This caused the other Gnoll to laugh even harder.

Rhys jogged a short way to catch up with Speaks.  There was no question that the Gnolls knew which direction they went and it wouldn't be long before they figured out that they were camped in the old wizard's tower.  They figured they'd better hurry back and prepare for a counter attack.

*NEXT:  Anybody Else Want To Negotiate?*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Anybody Else Want To Negotiate?*

The trio made their way back to the tower and pulled up the drawbridge (Speaks had fixed the broken chain using a _Stone Shape_ to fashion a replacement link out of a rock).  They went inside and wasted no time before celebrating.  They went to the kitchen level and grabbed one of the bottles of Novantae scotch.  Then they retired to the tower roof and toasted their victory.  None of them seemed to have any problems with drinking before noon.

They spent a while patting each other on the back and giving a good-natured ribbing to Krase nearly getting himself killed.  After a bit more celebration, Rhys decided to go and rest for a bit, fearing that they would have a long afternoon and night watching out for any Gnollish counterattacks.  Speaks also went inside the tower and Krase enjoyed sitting on the tower roof, sipping his scotch, enjoying the cool spring morning.  It was a good day to be alive.

Krase was half dozing on the tower roof when a voice called out from below in broken Imperial.  "Hello?"

Krase looked down to find a single Gnoll standing some 50 feet from the base of the tower.  He told the Gnoll to wait and went inside the tower to fetch Speaks.  They let Rhys continue his nap since they knew that sleep was important for him to regain his spells.  They returned to the tower roof to address the Gnoll.

"What do you want?" demanded Speaks.  As he spoke, he noticed that this was the Gnoll whom Rhys had allowed to live earlier in the morning.

The Gnoll was clearly afraid (tail between the legs and all) but mustered what courage he possessed and said, "You want us to leave the town?"

"I think we made that pretty clear this morning." replied Speaks.

"We must have the Flail before we go." said the Gnoll, wincing at having just made a demand of those who had slain nearly a score of his tribesmen just a few hours ago.

Speaks and Krase regarded one another for a moment and then told the Gnoll to stay where he was.  They went back inside the tower and woke Rhys to have a discussion about what to do.

(This conversation ran all over the place.  Every option was discussed from giving the flail back and telling the Gnolls to leave to a staunch conviction that the world would not be safe until every Gnoll was exterminated.  They talked of ambushing the Gnolls and of trying to strike a peace.  This all probably took some 20 minutes of game time and I would periodically holler a tentative "Hello?" from the Gnoll, whom they ignored entirely.)

They finally arrived at the rudiments of a plan.  All three stepped out onto the balcony and Rhys addressed the Gnoll (who whimpered in fear at the sight of the cold-blooded human).  "We see no reason to discuss this matter with the likes of you.  Send someone with some authority to speak with us in the morning."

The Gnoll seemed pleased to be dismissed but knew what would await him back in the ruins of Aquae Sulis if he didn't have some kind of answer to the question he'd been sent to ask.  "And, um, *then* can we have the Flail?"

Rhys regarded him for a moment. "Uh, yeah.  We'll see."

The Gnoll scurried out of the clearing and ran off to the west.

"So what exactly are we going to do when they come in the morning?" Speaks asked Rhys.

"Well, let's figure something out!" Rhys replied.

They party spent the rest of the afternoon coming up with various plans and finally settled on one.  Then they settled in for a watchful night of guarding against Gnollish treachery.

*NEXT:  Deceit and Death*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Deceit and Death*

The night passed uneventfully without any incursions by the Gnolls.  As the dawn broke over the fog-shrouded valley, the party rose from their bedrolls and ate a cold breakfast.  They waited quietly for the arrival of the Gnoll representative.

Just as the fog was beginning to break up, they began to hear noises from the woods to the west.  Slowly, by twos and threes, Gnolls emerged from the tree line and took up cautious stances 50 to 100 feet from the base of the tower until approximately 30 of them stood outside.  A trio of Gnolls bearing heavy flails (which tentatively identified them as priests) made their way to the center of the group.

"We have come for the Flail as you asked.  Where is it?"

Rhys made his way out onto the tower roof, closely followed by Speaks and Krase.  Rhys addressed the gathered Gnolls in their own tongue, "We have your flail.  But you won't get it back yet.  We have come here on behalf of he that owns this tower.  He will be returning soon and he finds your presence in the town unacceptable.  You are to leave immediately or suffer more of our wrath."

"As to the matter of your flail," Rhys continued, "we could give it back to you.  But we thought it would be more sporting if we allowed you the opportunity to 'win it back'.  If you want the flail, you will have to fight for it.

Our finest warrior will battle yours and if ours wins, you leave without the flail.  If yours wins, you leave with it."

The Gnolls grumbled among themselves for a moment.  Then their priest spoke again, "This battle shall be to the death?"

"Yes." Rhys confidently replied.

"And there shall be no outside interference by us or by you?" asked the Gnoll.

"That is correct," said Rhys.

"We accept!"

Speaks kept watch atop the tower roof as Rhys and Krase descended and lowered the drawbridge.  As they did so, Rhys cast _Cat's Grace_ on the warrior to give him an extra edge.  Then the pair of them walked confidently out onto the platform atop the stairs outside the tower and marched out to meet with the Gnolls.

"Have you selected your champion?" Rhys asked with a hint of disdain.

"We have," replied the Gnoll and gestured before adding, "Urrgol!"

Through the crowd of Gnolls stepped what was easily the largest Gnoll any of them had ever seen.  If the top of his head was shy of eight feet, the tops of his ears certainly weren't.  Tufts of fur protruded from the suit of chainmail he wore and his heavily muscled arm hefted an enormous greatsword.

As Rhys once again began to talk with the Gnoll priest, Speaks gazed down at the Gnollish warrior and had a flash of recognition.  He had last seen this warrior mired in mud on the bank of the Fodor as he, Arc and Ilrath had paddled away to safety.  This was the Gnoll who had chased them across the western wilds with his hunting parties those many months ago, before they were regarded as heroes.

Meanwhile Rhys discussed the terms of the duel with the priest.  The Gnoll explained that when his people fought, they did so within a circle.  Any who left the circle of their own will lost the battle and their life was forfeit for the victor to do with as he pleased.  He further explained that whoever was challenged was given the choice of how large the circle was to be.

Rhys agreed to this so long as the circle was no smaller than eight paces across.

The priest quickly paced off a ten pace circle and the gnolls hastily drew the rudiments of a circle in the dirt.  Krase took a position at the circle's edge nearest the tower and Urrgol stood opposite him.  Rhys leaned in to Krase as he walked by and said, "I'll wait atop the stairs.  If they try anything funny, I'm getting you out of here."  Krase nodded and collected himself for a duel with his hated enemy.

Moments later, the priest barked, "Begin!"

Krase was quicker to react than the hulking Gnoll.  As he had stood waiting for the fight to start he had debated several different strategies.  Now he simply rushed forward and slashed at the Gnoll with Heartneedle and unfortunately missed. 

In turn, the Gnoll hauled back with his greatsword and swung with all his might, pounding into Krase's side and nearly knocking him to the ground (Rolled a 20 on the first swing - confirmed crit for 29 points of damage).  A cheer rang out from the surrounding Gnolls.

Krase shook his head with shock but quickly recovered himself and slashed away with his twin blades.  His defensive training kicked in and he attacked more timidly, reserving some of his energy to try to fend off any further blows from the Gnoll.  Only Heartneedle found its mark but at least he had paid back the Gnoll with blood.

Urrgol was pleased and confident after his initial swing.  He would finish this puny human off in moments and then they would recover the Fists of Yeenoghu, one way or another.  He swung his sword with reckless abandon putting his full weight behind the swing while sacrificing some accuracy.  Krase dodged the blow with no trouble and the tip of the greatsword dug into the moist soil.

Krase let fly with another pair of slashes, continuing to be mindful of the powerful blows aimed at him by Urrgol.  This time Heartneedle lodged harmlessly in one of the rugged chain links of the Gnoll's armor.  But his other blade cut a shallow wound along the calf of the beast.  "Slow and steady," he told himself.

Urrgol hacked again with his sword but the powerful cut again went far wide of its target.  The cautious human was turning out to be tougher to hit than he had anticipated.  He decided to be more careful with his strikes, sacrificing some of the fury he put into his blows.  He also stepped slightly to the side, seeking to disrupt the concentration of the human warrior with his sudden move.

Krase noted the sidestep by the Gnoll.  It left a direct line between himself and the Gnoll shamans.  He knew he couldn't trust them so he too stepped to the side, keeping the immensity of the Gnoll between him and the treacherous priests.  He slashed out with his swords again.  Heartneedle failed him again but the blade in his off hand put a cut in the smelly hide of his adversary.

Urrgol noted the nervous way the human had reacted to his maneuvering.  He repeated the move, this time to the inside of the circle.  If the human panicked and stepped outside the circle, his life was over.  He then swung his mighty sword and this time his aim was true.  It was not as mighty as the first blow he had struck but he felt the human stagger under the weight of it.

Krase was becoming very hard pressed.  He knew that one more such blow would be the end of him.  Foregoing his attacks, he stepped just beyond the reach of the Gnoll and drank a potion he hastily snatched from his belt.  He felt slightly better but was a long way from healthy.

The Gnolls howled in anger at this move (it being a clear departure from their long standing tradition of "smashing each other in the face until someone is dead" style of battle).  Urrgol growled.  If the human had tried that trick within his reach, he'd have lost his head for it.  He stepped forward and lashed out with his blade.  But his anger made the blow clumsy and Krase easily dodged it.

Krase's blades cleaved away at the enraged Gnoll more aggressively now.  He let loose his own growl of frustration as Heartneedle slid harmlessly off the side of the Gnoll's armor.  But his other sword continued to prove it's worth, digging a deep notch into the thigh of his opponent.

Urrgol roared in pain and frustration.  He swung his hefty blade straight out in a flat arc that could easily have decapitated the young human.  But again, the nimble warrior ducked under his blow and escaped unharmed.

Krase allowed himself a slight smile.  The Gnoll was losing focus and getting sloppy.  A few more nicks and cuts and the blood loss would do him in.  He let fly another pair of slashed.  As seemed to be the trend for the day, Heartneedle failed to connect while his other blade left blood oozing from a fresh cut across the Gnoll's forearm.

The Gnoll let loose a roar that sent blood-flecked foam sailing from his jaws.  Krase anticipated another powerful but clumsy swing from the enraged beast.  Instead, Urrgol dropped low and reversed his swing, spinning the opposite direction and catching the young warrior from Glynden off guard.  The blade bit low, just under the protection of his mithral breastplate and severed flesh and bone.

Krase Sandoval, hero in the lands of the Fodor and champion among the peoples of Glynden, toppled to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

As Speaks and Rhys gazed on in horror, Urrgol held aloft his victorious sword.  A moment later, he reversed his grip, clearly meaning to drive the point of the enormous blade into Krase's breast.  Rhys snapped into action pulling forth a scroll he had earmarked for just this eventuality.  He hastily read the arcane words and as he spoke, Krase's limp body began to _Levitate_ into the air until it rose to a height of 20 feet.

Urrgol was completely taken off guard by this as were the rest of the Gnolls who stared on in anger and disbelief that the victory of their champion was about to be stolen away by such deceitful magic.

Speaks tried to buy them a momentary distraction by attempting to hold to at least a bit of their bargain.  He pitched the Flail off the tower roof, into the midst of the Gnolls, saying, "Your champion has prevailed.  Take your Flail and leave!"  He then prepared himself to transform into an eagle, hoping he might be able to drag Krase to safety before he died.

But his voice was drowned out by that of the Gnoll priest who shouted, "They have broken their word!  Kill them all!"

Every Gnoll began to grab at whatever missile weapons he had on his person (primarily javelins with a few short bows mixed in).

Rhys concentrated a moment, lifting Krase higher above the crowd of angry Gnolls (to a total height of 40 feet) before he retreated inside the tower, out of the line of fire and toward the windlass that would raise the drawbridge.  As Krase's unconscious form rose above the crowd, his hand still loosely clutched the hilt of Heartneedle, which, until today had never failed him.

Suddenly an attack came from a completely unexpected quarter.  From the woods south of the clearing, Speaks spotted some movement and then saw the dog-lizards they had spotted up on the ridgeline.  Before this fully registered, three glowing bolts of energy shot from the treeline and slammed into the hovering body of Krase.

His unconscious form arched in pain and then hung limply in the air.  Speaks let out a cry of anguish but his only answer was the shining mithral blade of Heartneedle, tumbling out of the grasp of the young warrior.  Its mirror surface reflected the rays of the morning sun off of the last wisps of fog in a scene far too beautiful for the horror it truly contained.

Just then, Rhys sent a message to Speaks via his amulet of communication as he cranked the windlass with all his might:  "I've got to get the drawbridge up!  You better go get Krase!"

Speaks used his own amulet.  He replied numbly, "I'm afraid that Krase is beyond our help."  Moments later, anger flashed in the Druid's eyes and magic flashed from his hands…

*NEXT:  Blood and Fire*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Blood and Fire*

Rhys took a moment to absorb the ramifications of Speaks' message and began to crank the windlass furiously.  There were 30 Gnolls outside, Krase was dead and if he didn't get the drawbridge shut soon, he and Speaks were going to wind up the same way.

Speaks cast an _Entangle_ spell that caught almost the entire Gnollish force within its grasp (I never cease to be amazed at how big that spell is.  Krase's player recently made us some templates for spell effects out of heavy Mylar and the one for Entangle is *Sixteen Inches Across!*.  It utterly dominates the battlemat.).

A second later, another trio of the magical bolts shot from dog-lizards some 120 feet away and this time Speaks was their target.  They sailed into him causing considerable pain.

The majority of the Gnolls were now trapped within the grasping roots and vines that had proved their bane the previous day.  Roughly a third of them, including the priests and Urrgol managed to scurry out of the area before they were caught.  Most of the rest struggled in vain at their bonds.  The few who thought to hurl their javelins at the Druid had their aim foiled by the vines that grabbed them and their weapons clattered harmlessly off the wall of the tower.

Rhys continued to crank the windlass with every ounce of his strength.  Through one of the arrow slits that looked out onto the top of the stairs, he could see the gnolls who had escaped the entanglement already angling towards the bottom of the stairs.  The drawbridge was not nearly high enough to prevent the Gnolls from leaping across to it.  And if just one Gnoll managed to get on the bridge, the weight would be entirely too much for Rhys to crank up by himself.

Speaks saw this too and decided that he needed to buy time for Rhys.  He called upon the forces of _Nature_ for an _Ally_ and summoned a flaming Salamander at the base of the stairs.  The creature immediately slithered forth and attacked at Urrgol but missed.

Just as Speaks completed his spell, a pair of crossbow bolts shot from where the dog-lizards were and struck him with frightening accuracy.  He recoiled back from the edge of the parapet in pain.

Urrgol struck back at the Salamander and dealt it a wound that bled magma, spreading fire among the weeds at its feet.  The Gnoll priest hurried to the side of Urrgol, calling out to the other Gnolls, "Free yourselves and come to me!"

Rhys could hear the cry of the priest just outside near the base of the stairs.  He was unaware that the Salamander was keeping the Gnolls occupied for the moment.  He continued to haul at the spokes on the windlass, a profuse sweat starting to break out on his brow.

Speaks could see the dog-lizards dancing with glee just outside the clearing.  Their missile fire was starting to take a severe toll on him but the group of Gnolls who had made it clear of the _Entangle_ were threatening to overwhelm the stairs if he didn't do something.  He cast another _Entangle_ directly adjacent to the first, giving the Gnolls a larger obstacle to run around and catching another of the shamans inside the area.  Then he ducked low so that only his head and shoulders were visible between the crenellations.

As he had predicted, the dog-lizards shot another cluster of their "force bolts" at him.  But he hadn't anticipated that their fire would be so accurate and he staggered under the assault.  He simply couldn't take another such attack.

Urrgol swung again at the Salamander but missed this time, the damage he had taken from Krase beginning to take its toll.  The Gnoll priest swung his flail at the fiery creature and wounded it further.  The group of Gnolls who were free of the entangled area stopped abruptly when they found their path blocked by more grasping weeds.  The changed direction and kept running, seeking a way around the entanglement to the stairs at the base of the tower.

Rhys glanced out the arrow slit and saw that the drawbridge was halfway up now.  It would be very difficult for a Gnoll to leap far enough to catch the edge of it.  It was time for him to take the battle to the enemy.  He hooked the windlass in place with a rope attached to the wall for that purpose.  Then he ran into the entryway and stopped at the edge of the steeply slanting drawbridge.

Speaks dropped down, completely out of sight of the dog-lizards and used some healing magic on himself.  He knew that Rhys would need more of his help to hold the door, but the attacks of the dog-lizards had wounded him badly.

Below, his Salamander ally struck with its whip-like tail and spear and finally connected with Urrgol.  The flaming spear caught the giant Gnoll under the armpit as he hauled back to swing his greatsword again.  The spear drove deep into his chest and blood flowed from his mouth before he fell to the ground lifeless.

The priest called out the other Gnolls, "Come quickly!  We must strike them now!", hoping to inspire the trapped Gnolls to break free.  But they were hopelessly stuck in the vines.  In frustration, the priest swung his flail at the Salamander but missed this time.

Rhys took a moment to cast _Spider Climb_ before he scurried to the top of the partially raised drawbridge.  Taking a quick look around, he could see the priest facing off with the Salamander in front of him, just behind the staircase.  Off to his left, he could see a crowd of nearly a dozen Gnolls running towards the stairs.  An evil grin parted his lips.

Speaks used a second healing spell on himself.  He knew that if he was going to be any use to Rhys, he was going to need to be able to withstand more of the punishing attacks of the dog-lizards.

The Samander struck at the priest this time and his flaming tail lashed the creature, singeing away a swath of fur on its leg.  The priest howled in fury and struck again with his flail but his aim failed again.

Seeing the priest in danger, the cluster of Gnolls who had just rounded the second _Entangle_ rushed to his aid.  A pair of them crowded into the narrow space between the entangled area and the staircase to attempt a flank of their flaming foe.  The rest climbed the broad stairs hoping to use the height advantage to strike down at the Salamander or perhaps use an axe to hook the top of the drawbridge to bring it down again.

Rhys had his evil grin interrupted when a crossbow bolt buried itself in the door of the drawbridge, just under his chin.  Another bolt shot above his head and he heard it shatter on the back wall of the room behind him.  Whoever those dog-lizards were, their shooting was horribly accurate.

But there was no time to worry about that now.  His hand hovered above his magical scrollcase and summoned a scroll into it.  A very precious scroll that he had paid dearly for but was ideal for this circumstance.  He read the scroll and waved his hand.  A small red pellet flew from his fingers to land halfway down the staircase before detonating in a tremendous _Fireball_ 40 feet across!

With the exception of the Gnollish priest, every one of the gnolls fell dead where they stood, their flesh charred to the bone.  The priest stood agape at the raw power his foes were capable of.  He knew in that moment that he would not live to see another day.

As the smoke from the fireball swirled skyward, Speaks leaned forward over the parapet to see what had happened.  He saw the death throes of a couple of the Gnolls as well as the shocked stillness of the Gnoll cleric.  Opposite the priest stood his Salamander who was as happy and at home as could be among the flames.  Off in the edge of the treeline he saw the dog-lizards.  With the deaths of virtually all of the unentangled Gnolls, they were his primary concern.  He unleashed a third _Entangle_ in their area and was pleased to see them scrambling to escape the reach of the roots.  Glancing below again, he saw the Salamander wink out of existence as it returned to its fiery home plane.

The priest, barely clinging to consciousness, staggered away in the only direction that offered escape.  But his attempted escape was to be short lived.  Rhys raised his crossbow and shot him in the back as he fled, knocking him to the ground, never to rise.

Rhys' triumph was cut short when a pair of the force bolts flung by the dog-lizards hit him in the face.  He shook off the effects but decided that he quickly needed to take cover.

The dog-lizards who had escaped being entangled in the first few moments of the spell escaped from the area and fled back into the woods.  Those who had been caught rapidly began slipping free from their bonds with surprising agility.  They too fled back into the safety of the dense woods further up the ridge.

Speaks conjured another _Flaming Sphere_ and began to assault the Gnolls who remained entangled outside the tower.  Rhys used his _Spider Climb_ spell to climb across and down the wall of the tower to the area between the stairs and the base of the tower.  From there, he could see a trio of Gnolls trapped within the initial _Entangle_ that Speaks had cast.  He began to shoot at them.

Apparently inspired by the sheer terror of watching half a score of their comrades roasted alive, the remaining Gnolls began to break free of the vines and weeds that held them.  As quickly as they could, they escaped the from the area affected by the spell and fled the area of the tower.

Rhys fired at the retreating Gnolls to assure that they entertained no thoughts of turning back for another try at the tower.  As they ran, yelping into the forest, he stood up from his position and smiled at having successfully defended the tower from their attack.

But then his gaze wandered skyward and came to rest upon the lifeless body of Krase, hanging in mid-air 40 feet above the scorched and blood battlefield.  His smile disappeared and he knew for certain that he had lost a friend.

*NEXT:  Revenge!*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Revenge!*

The group set out at first light.  They guessed that the Gnolls would have retreated to the northwest, back into the Darkwood.  Rhys and Raven set out that way on foot, Rhys finding himself moving at a crawl to keep pace with the dwarf.  Speaks transformed into an eagle and flew out ahead to scout for the Gnolls.  He would notify the others via his Amulet of Communication if he spotted them. (Any time Speaks Wild Shapes, he has a little ritual: He takes off his Amulet and gives it to Rhys.  Then he Wild Shapes and then Rhys puts the Amulet back on so that it doesn't get subsumed into the new form and become useless.)

Speaks made lazy circles to the northwest and after a couple of hours determined that the Gnolls were nowhere in the area.  So, he turned and headed south.  Another few hours passed before he saw a sizable group of Gnolls bivouacked to the southwest of Aquae Sulis.  Speaks turned around and flew north, searching out his companions.  He finally spotted them in the early afternoon, still walking northwest.  He sent to Rhys with the Amulet, "The Gnolls are due south of you.  I'll catch up later."  Then he turned south again and flew back to where the Gnolls were.

When he arrived, he found them starting to break camp and resume their exodus.  Speaks flew a couple of miles southwest along the path they seemed to be taking.  Then he landed in a tree and awaited their arrival.  A short while later, as dusk dimmed the light of day, he heard them approaching.  He flew a short distance to assure that he was in their path and alighted on a low, stout tree-branch and transformed back into human form.

He waited until the Gnolls were some 200 feet away and then called forth a wide field of _Spike Growth_ across their path.  He waited for a few moments before conjuring an _Entangle_ just behind the leaders among the column of Gnolls.

Utter pandemonium broke loose among the Gnolls.  Many of them fled from the entanglement into the swath of _Spike Growth_ and were pierced by the wooden spines, laming or killing many.  Others began to scatter in all directions.

Speaks sealed up one flank with another _Entangle_ and then followed up by _Summoning_ an _Ally_ in the form of the Salamander that had worked so well against the Gnolls before.  The Salamander rushed forward to engage the Gnolls.

Seeing this flaming effigy approaching from the southwest, the Gnolls, who had been convinced that the attack was coming from behind them, turned and ran away from the Salamander and the wooden spines and back into the direction of the entanglements.  A voice called above the panic to form up around him but many ignored this plea.

By this point, Speaks had climbed down the few feet from his tree limb and was rapidly approaching the "battle" in the wake of the Salamander.  Unfortunately, the Salamander had no idea the _Spike Growth_ was present and rushed through it, sustaining some damage and suffering from wounds to its legs that prevented it from moving faster than a crawl.

Those Gnolls who could escape along the flank that held no entanglement did so, leaving the others to their fate.  For those who didn't see that option, chaos reigned.  Their high pitched barks and whines were heard over the cries of those impaled on the spiny growth jutting out of the forest floor.  Along the edges of the _Entangles_ there were masses of Gnolls that remained trapped.

Into one of these clusters, Speaks summoned a _Flaming Sphere_.  The barks and whines became howls of pain as those held helpless by the entanglement were burned to death.  In the light provided by the _Flaming Sphere_, Speaks began to notice that the large majority of those trapped were the females and pups of the Gnoll tribe.  Almost none of them were strong enough to escape the vines and roots that held them and as tightly packed as they were, he was rolling over two and three at a time with the ball of fire.

Consumed by rage and remembering the words of Krase who swore that all Gnolls were inherently evil, Speaks called forth another ball of fire in the midst of those caught in the other _Entangle_.  The spheres rolled among the captured and left a charred path of death in their wakes.

This continued for nearly a minute.  Occasionally one of the male Gnolls or perhaps one of the females, driven to extraordinary strength by utter terror would escape the edge of the entangled area, only to flee further into the center of it in an effort to escape the druidic harbinger of fiery death.

Finally, mercifully, one and then the other _Flaming Spheres_ winked out.  The woods seemed especially dark to Speaks.  The after images of the flaming Salamander and the balls of fire still burned in his eyes.  But there were also images of the women and children that were burned there.  Images that would remain for a long time.

Krase had always contended that the only good Gnoll was a dead Gnoll.  They were irredeemably evil and nothing could change that.  But in the face of the destruction he had wrought against those who were weak and largely defenseless, those words seemed as faint and far away as Krase's lost soul.

Speaks cried out to those who fled, "Go back to the North!  Leave these lands and NEVER RETURN!"  Then he shifted form into that of an owl.  As he took flight and rose above the forest canopy, the silence of his wing beats did nothing to shield his ears from the piteous cries of the burned and dying who lay in the darkness below.

*NEXT: Bad Things Come in Small Packages*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Bad Things Come in Small Packages*

Speaks flew northwards and located Rhys and Raven camped in the forest below.  He swooped in silently and stood between them before they even knew he was there.

"Gads!" exclaimed Raven, "It's going to take a bit to get used to that!"

Speaks described what happened with the Gnolls.  It was evident to the others that the Druid had little stomach for further revenge if it involved killing any more of the Gnoll females and pups.  Raven agreed that if the backbone of the Gnoll force, its warriors, had been defeated, the rest would crumble soon enough.  Rhys felt pretty much the same.  They resolved that in the morning, they would journey back to the tower and see to Krase's body.

Rhys also mentioned that since the purpose of the trek to Aquae Sulis was to make the town safe for the miners who would soon be going there, they should probably check out the mine itself.  The others agreed and bedded down for the night, leaving Rhys on watch.  A couple of hours later, just as he was considering waking Raven for his watch, Rhys heard a noise off in the woods nearby.  He moved to his companions and gave each a small shake.

Speaks woke silently and grabbed his spear.  Raven startled slightly as he woke, nudging one of the plates of his armor (which always stays within easy reach of the dwarf).  The noises off in the woods stopped with the clanking of the metal plates.  A moment later, a horrified voice called out in Gnollish, "It's THEM!  They're everywhere!!  Run!"

Raven quickly pulled out his bow and sent an arrow sailing into the form of one of the nearest Gnolls who screamed as it was struck by the missile.  "Run you buggers!" he called after them.  And run they did.  The party settled back down and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

In the morning, they marched back in the vague direction of the abandoned town.  Krase's presence was missed as he always seemed to know his way in these woods.  But Speaks was able to keep them on course by using his magic to _Sense Direction_.  Near noon they marched back through the center of the ruined town and made their way back to the tower.

They received a rather unpleasant surprise when they went to where Krase lay:  All of his remaining equipment was missing!  They had taken a few of the items from him that they might need (a pair of healing potions and his Amulet of Communication in particular) but the rest of his equipment (especially his mithral breastplate and the orc-slaying short sword) was simply gone.

Without missing a beat, Speaks handed off his Amulet to Rhys and transformed into a dog.  He began sniffing around and instantly caught the scent of the thieves.  He led them out of the tower and southwards across the clearing to the tree line where the trail took an abrupt turn to the west.

Rhys looked at Raven and said, "Gotta be the dog-lizards.  This is where they attacked us from when they helped the Gnolls."  Following the lead of Speaks, they traveled several hundred yards southwest until they came upon the remnants of the road that led from Aquae Sulis south to the mine entrance.  The trail of the thieves led south along the road and the party followed.

A bit later, they spotted a large wooden building on the east side of the overgrown road.  Rhys declared that this must be the smelting works for the mine.  They approached cautiously.

Speaks determined that the trail didn't seem to enter the building and it continued toward the mine entrance, now visible some 50 yards away.  Rhys decided to check out the building anyway just to make sure they weren't leaving anyone behind them to ambush.  He opened one of the doors to the building and peered into the dimly lit interior.

Inside were most of the types of smelting equipment that he was vaguely familiar with from seeing the smelting works in Glynden.  At one end was an area where the ore would be broken up into small chunks with heavy sledges.  A series of tubs and "jigging boxes" were set up to separate out the ore heavy with silver from the tailings.  At the far end was a furnace where the silver-laden ore would be melted down and the refined silver poured off into ingot molds.  Near the center was a large set of gears connected to a rope and bucket system for pumping out the lower levels of the mines.  A large axle exited through the side of the building where it probably ended in another set of gears attached to a turn-style that would have been operated by mules.  None of the equipment showed any signs of recent use.

The party exited the building and continued towards the mine entrance.  As they approached, Speaks and Rhys spotted a bit of movement further up the slope but couldn't tell exactly what it was.  Raven decided that they had better be safe than sorry and cast a spell to _Protect_ them from _Evil_.  Rhys supplied them all with _Cat's Grace_.  Rhys drew forth his Everburning Torch and continued forward with the dwarf at his side.  Speaks stayed just behind the others and continued to sniff his way along the trail.

As short distance inside the mine, they discovered a passage to the east but Speaks determined that it hadn't been used recently.  They pressed onwards.

Another 50 or so feet down the passage they came to an intersection.  Again, Speaks sniffed around and found plenty of scents but determined that those who had come from the tower went straight up the middle passage.  They followed.

They progressed another 20 feet down the main shaft when suddenly an enormously loud sound detonated among the party.  They were momentarily shaken but not utterly deafened by the sound.  Then, a volley of the _Magic Missiles_ that the dog-lizards had previously used came sailing out of the darkness ahead to strike Rhys.

Rhys was the first to recover from the surprise and he decided that the one place he didn't want to be was the place where the ambush was planned.  He ran *forward* to confront his attackers.  He quickly spotted a foursome of the dog-lizards standing in the passage ahead of him.  Two of them leveled their crossbows and fired at him, one of them striking home.

Just as Rhys advanced to engage the enemy, more of the dog-lizards appeared from the intersection they had just passed through and began firing crossbows at Raven and Speaks.  Raven cursed aloud as most of the bolts ricocheted off his platemail.  "I shoulda known as soon as you said 'dog-lizards'.  Those are Kobolds!"  He waded forward to engage them but as he did so, he came into view of four more of the creatures.  A pair of them unleashed more of their _Magic Missiles_ which unerringly struck the dwarf.  The damage he sustained distracted the stout holy-warrior and he missed the runt he swung his warhammer at.

Speaks realized quickly that his present form was next to useless against their opponents and took a moment to transform into human form.  He glanced up and down the hallway.  He could see that Rhys was facing several of the Kobolds at his end.  He had some doubts that the sorcerer would last long against so many foes.  Speaks hurried in that direction to lend his aid.

One of the Kobolds in front of Rhys fired another _Magic Missile_ at point blank range, further wounding him, while another spoke an incantation and a soft glow surrounded his hand as he moved forward to attack.

At the other end of the corridor, a fresh volley of _Magic Missiles_ flew from the hands of those who Raven faced.  The dwarf knew that he couldn't take such punishment all day but he hoped the Kobolds missiles would run out soon.

Rhys drew forth his rapier and plunged in to attack one of the crossbowmen before him.  His blade went wide of the agile Kobold however.  In response, the Kobold dropped his crossbow and drew out a short sword and sliced at Rhys.  His blade missed as well but the other crossbowman had likewise dropped his weapon and pulled a short sword as he had moved around to Rhys' flank.  He plunged his weapon into the small of Rhys' back and cackled with glee as the sorcerer grunted in pain.

Several of the Kobolds facing Raven moved in to close range to engage the dwarf.  They too wielded short swords and sought to maneuver around the dwarf.  In response to this threat, Raven swung his mighty hammer and collapsed the chest of one of his diminutive attackers.  His swing continued and barely missed the Kobold adjacent to the first.

Speaks moved further down the corridor and used his magic to again call forth a Salamander _Ally_ whom he conjured forth amid those who attacked Rhys.  The Salamander immediately attacked one of the Kobolds but its spear and tail failed to connect.

One of the Kobolds near Rhys (the one who had been flinging the _Magic Missiles_) backed up a step from the Salamander.  The one with the glowing hand reached out to touch Rhys but the dexterous sorcerer remained elusive.

Back at the intersection, a new pair of _Magic Missiles_ flew at Raven and another of the Kobolds shot him with a crossbow, his aim seeming supernaturally accurate.  With no backup and almost surrounded, things seemed grim for the dwarf.

Rhys saw that his three adversaries were in a particularly perfect formation and in a flash, he whipped out his wand of _Burning Hands_ as he stepped back and toasted all of them.  All were burned but none fell to the attack.  In response, the pair that had previously flanked him, tried to maneuver back into that position.  The one on his left found that he couldn't get to Rhys' rear without exposing himself to attack.  He bided his time.

The Kobolds surrounding Raven performed a quick sidestep and allowed another of their number in until each of the four was opposite another Kobold.  This fearsome foursome flailed at the dwarf with their small swords but his platemail protected him from their attacks.

Seeing that he was in grave peril, Raven stepped back and began to cast a curative spell on himself.  Doing so opened him up to attacks from a pair of the Kobolds but again, their swords rang off of his armor and he was able to complete his spell.  He felt slightly better but was far from healthy.

Speaks looked at how the battle was shaping up at Rhys' end and decided that he needed some additional help for the sorcerer.  He began the motions to call forth some further _Allies_ but his spell was cut short as the Kobold closest to the Salamander shot the _Magic Missile_ he had been saving for the druid.  The bolt of force distracted Speaks and the felt the strands of magic fall apart within his grasp, the spell wasted.

Seemingly in retaliation for his master, the Salamander moved in to attack the offending Kobold and struck him with his spear.  The Kobold, decided that fact to face with the fiery beast was not where he wanted to be and retreated into a previously unseen side tunnel.  The one that had earlier menaced Rhys with his glowing hand moved across the tunnel and put his back against the wall, performing some arcane gestures in the process.

Raven took yet another _Magic Missile_ but that was the least of his worries.  One of the Kobolds in the intersection began calling out orders of some kind (Raven doesn't speak Draconic) and a large, black reptilian head poked around the corner.

Rhys meanwhile took another slash at one of his attackers.  Once again the Kobold managed to dodge the tip of his blade.  Growling in frustration, Rhys took a step back to continue thwarting the Kobolds' attempts to flank him.  The Kobolds pursued and pressed their attack but seemed no more capable of hitting Rhys than he was of hitting them.

A couple of the ones that Raven faced attacked him, again being thwarted by his armor.  But the other pair cleared out of the way with a slight hint of fear in their eyes.  Before he could react further, Raven found himself looking the jaws of a dragon the size of a pony.  A moment later, the black maw of the beast closed on his shoulder and all went black.

*To Be Continued*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Bad Things Come in Small Packages Part 2 - Worse Things Come in Really Big Packages!*

_As Raven descended into darkness, his thoughts became somewhat detached.  In that final moment, as the dragon's jaws had closed around his shoulder, he had glimpsed the beast up close.  He had never seen a dragon before and felt that if he were going to die by one, he should at least get a good look at it.  He was surprised by what he saw.

Instead of the stretching sinews and forked red tongue accentuating a mouth of ivory fangs dripping in caustic saliva, he witnessed only darkness.  The dragon's maw was very real, but yet seemingly composed only of invariable black.  The form of the beast shifted awkwardly in the light cast by Speaks' distant torch.  Rather than the shining, glittering scales he would have expected, the dragon's flank had wavered, indeed almost flickered.  Not unlike a shadow…_

Speaks heard Raven cry out and spun around to see him fall to the black dragon that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.  Whipping back around he saw that two of the Kobolds were still maneuvering to flank Rhys, a third had his back against the wall and appeared to be performing some kind of magic and the fourth had disappeared down a side passage.  As he watched, he saw his Salamander dart up the same passage in pursuit.

Speaks felt that he needed to respond immediately to the dragon threat, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Rhys without any assistance.  He made another try at the spell that he had failed before.  Suddenly, three badgers appeared among the Kobolds near Rhys and began menacing them.  One was felled almost immediately while another took a vicious bite to the ankle.  The third, up against the wall, easily fended off the badger that attacked him as it appeared to bounce off some kind of invisible barrier.  In response to the attack, the Kobold stabbed at the badger with a dagger and drew blood.  This sent the badger into a raging frenzy.

Rhys took advantage of the momentary distraction and stabbed at the Kobold in front of him, wounding it.  The Kobold saw that the odds had turned against him and retreated in the direction of the dragon.

A voice rang out above the din of battle, "Fall back!  Let the dragon finish them!"  Those Kobolds who were in the corridor near the dragon and the fallen Raven moved away from the dragon, back down the side passages at the intersection leaving the dwarf unconscious and bleeding in their wake.

The dragon showed no signs of retreat and lunged forward past the dwarf and bit at Speaks.  Speaks thrust at the beast with his spear as it attacked but failed to strike it.  The druid winced in pain at the attack, but through the pain, he noticed the odd fact that this dragon seemed different than the one they had previously fought.  Its form was shadowy and indistinct, almost insubstantial.

Meanwhile, the badgers he had summoned proceeded to make quick work of the other Kobolds nearby.  One moved slightly to the flank of the Kobold against the wall and lunged for the small humanoid with bloodlust in its eyes.  The frail Kobold crumpled under the assault of claws and fangs.

The other badger ran after the Kobold trying to retreat.  The Kobold turned briefly to fend off the attack but failed.  The badger burrowed through the thin leather armor the Kobold wore and into flesh.  The pitiful creature let out a high pitched cry and expired.

Speaks was face to face with the bizarre "Shadow Dragon" but there was no time to ponder the implications of such a thing.  He stepped back out of the reach of its jaws and called forth a _Flaming Sphere_ along the flank of the dragon.  The ball of fire rolled into the creature and began burning away at its shadowy substance.

Rhys was now left with no further adversaries (Although he was briefly alarmed as a light came from the small side passage one of the Kobolds had bolted into.  It turned out to be the Salamander returning to the battle.) and saw Speaks facing the dragon alone.  He rushed to the aid of his friend.

The dragon came at Speaks again, this time unleashing the full fury of its attacks.  Speaks ducked and weaved, fully utilizing the _Cat_-like _Grace_ granted by Rhys' spell.  Astoundingly, he was only hit by one of the dragon's wings, which only wounded him slightly.

He responded by stepping back out of reach again and with a gesture, the ball of fire again slammed into the side of the creature.  One of the badgers ran in to defend the one that had summoned it, only to be slashed in twain by one of the dragon's claws.  The Salamander also moved quickly to fight along side the druid.

But it was Rhys that dealt the final blow to the wispy Shadow Dragon.  He strode the last few feet toward the creature and a slash of his rapier passed through the neck of the beast.  Instead of crumpling to the ground, the corpse vanished like so much oily smoke.

As second later the corridor darkened slightly as the Salamander vanished, returning to its fiery plane of existence.  It briefly reminded Speaks of how the lights would be dimmed at the closing act of one of the plays put on by travelling performers back in Oar during his childhood.  But this was no play.  Danger remained all around them.

He stooped and channeled some of the healing magic of his wand into the prone form of Raven.  The dwarf regained consciousness and began to ply his own healing magics upon himself while Speaks continued to heal himself and Rhys.  A few moments later the question inevitably came as to what they should do now.

Speaks advocated them pressing on.  He felt that the Kobolds must have spent most of their magic (including whatever that Shadow Dragon thing was) during the encounter and they would have little left.  Seeing as how the group was mostly healed, they decided to press on.

*NEXT:  Frankly I Don't Know What's Going to Happen.  We Play Tonight!*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Against the Kobolds!*

The group gathered at the intersection and looked down the western passageway.  That was the direction that the dragon had come from and it seemed the most likely direction that the Kobolds had retreated to.  Wasting no time, they headed down the corridor.

Less than a dozen paces brought them to a side passage that contained a stairway leading upwards.  They decided that for the moment, they would press on and check the stairs later.  A few paces later, they met resistance.

A pair of crossbow bolts flew out of the darkness ahead.  Once bounced off of the sturdy platemail of the dwarf but he was slightly wounded by the other.  Speaks and Rhys let the dwarf take the lead down the passage since he was the only one who could see who was shooting at them.

Raven charged forward with warhammer raised high, bent on teaching the pair of Kobolds a lesson.  As he moved toward them, he could see that the passageway they followed took an abrupt turn ahead and the cowardly Kobolds were crouched around the corner.  He also noted that a narrower side passage branched off ahead.  But there was no time to ponder the mine layout for now.  He charged ahead as fast as his short legs would carry him in his heavy armor. (That'd be precisely 45 feet at a dead run.)

Speaks and Rhys ran (jogged really) after the dwarf, readying their weapons as they went.  Another pair of bolts flew up the hallway, this time one of them struck Rhys.

Raven continued to run down the hallway toward the Kobolds.  He was met with an unfortunate surprise when he passed the side passage:  A Kobold hidden some 15 feet up the passage shot a pair of _Magic Missiles_ at him.  Ahead, he noted that the Kobolds at the corner had withdrawn around the bend in the passage.  Growling in frustration, he stepped out of view from the side passage and put his back against the wall.  He took a couple of deep breaths and then dashed into the side passage, hoping to take the Kobold there by surprise.

The Kobold was anything but surprised.  The dwarf sounded like a bag full of scrap iron being thrown down the hallway.  The Kobold had moved further up the side passage and as Raven found himself a short way up the passage without a target for his hammer, the Kobold let him have it with another pair of _Magic Missiles_.

Raven backpedaled out of the side passage and took cover again.  Speaks and Rhys had been covering the corner ahead, ready to fire on any Kobolds who dared poke their heads into view.  Speaks looked at Raven who wore a mask of pain from the various bits of ranged damage he had taken.  Speaks spoke, "I think we need to withdraw and regroup.  They're killing us with those _Magic Missiles_.  You're the only one who can see them in the dark and you're too slow to catch them."

Raven hated to admit to defeat, especially by Kobolds.  But he couldn't help but agree with the wisdom of the Druid.  "Alright then.  Let's be off."  With that, the group began to withdraw.

Back at the intersection, they turned back to the left to exit the mine.  As they went, Rhys dropped back to the back of the group and stationed himself a short ways from the intersection and readied his crossbow.  He stashed away his Everburning Torch and waited, hoping that one of their assailants would carelessly walk around the corner, easy pickings for one of his precise attacks.

Unfortunately, it was one of the Kobolds straight ahead down the central shaft who spotted Rhys.  The Kobold sent an arrow at Rhys, which he barely dodged.  Rhys decided to leave the mines to the Kobolds for today and withdrew.

Back outside, the trio fell back to the smelting-works to catch a breather.  Clearly they couldn't go back in until they had healed and regained some of their spells.  All of them cast about for some way that they could counter the brutally effective ambush tactics used by the Kobolds.  Raven spotted a group of mine carts in a corner of the building and walked over to them.  He began to get an idea.  Not a very good idea, but an idea nonetheless.

Raven wanted to turn a pair of the mine carts into "war wagons".  They could serve as barriers to the Kobold's missile fire as they advanced into the mines.  He informed the others that he would need some other boards to affix to the carts to provide additional shielding for those taller than himself.  He searched about and found some additional timbers but they were thick mine supports and too large to work with.  He then began to eye the thick, rough-cut planks that made up the walls of the building.  He set to work chopping at them until he had freed several.  The planks were thick and ugly but they would work.

"Now I just need some nails," said Raven.  But alas, no nails could be found.  The building was constructed with pegs.  Raven decided that his expertise at woodworking (i.e. none) was not sufficient to make his war wagons without some nails.  Speaks offered that he knew a spell that could mold the wood into whatever shape they wanted without using any nails but he would need to pray for it the next day.

The three of them retreated back to the tower to rest the night.  Upon arriving, they noticed that Krase, hero of the north, was beginning to smell a bit ripe.  Speaks resolved to do something about that situation on the following day.  The trio raised the drawbridge and settled in for the night.

In the morning, they carried Krase's body outside and to the base of the tower stairs.  Speaks called upon the stone of the staircase to accept his body and the rock became soft and malleable.  Both Speaks and Raven gave prayers from their respective beliefs asking that the stone receive their brother.  Slowly, Krase's lifeless form was pushed into the vertical section of stone.  Then Speaks molded the surrounding stone over him and began to work it with his hands.  Gradually over the period of an hour, he crafted the stone into a reasonable likeness of Krase.  He was posed heroically fighting a Gnoll, just the way he died.

If the Gnolls had reason to fear the tower before, they would fear it doubly so now.

Somewhat sobered by the morning's events, the trio wordlessly made their way back to the smelting-works wary of a Kobold ambush.  They saw none of them.

Raven retrieved a pair of the thick support braces stacked in the corner of the building and brought them to the Druid.  Speaks used a spell similar to the one he had used to mold Krase into the stone to mold the stout braces into thinner sheets of wood and to mold their bases onto the mine carts.  When he was done, they had a pair of mantlets on wheels.

"So, how exactly will we use these devices friend, Raven?" asked Speaks.

Raven responded, "Well, we'll push one ahead and pull the other behind"

Rhys raised and eyebrow, "That's going to be noisy as all hell!"

Raven rounded on the much taller Sorcerer, "I'm already as noisy as all hell!"

Speaks commented, "It'll be slow too."

The dwarf turned and regarded the Druid with a raised eyebrow.

Speaks relented.  "Fine, fine.  I'm going to go and gather some berries to provide us with plenty of nourishment and minor healing.  I suspect we'll need both."  With that, the Druid made his way off into the woods.

Rhys yearned for action but sensed that little would be had that day.  "So, Raven, what do we do now?"

The dwarf responded, "Let's head back to the tower.  I want to prepare a couple of scrolls for tomorrow."

Rhys inquired, "What about the 'war wagons'?"

Raven responded, "Leave em' here.  We'll get them on our way into the mines tomorrow morning."

They headed back to the tower.  As they went, Rhys muttered under his breath that picking berries and writing scrolls wasn't much of an adventure.

*NEXT:  Against the Kobolds! (part 2)*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Against the Kobolds! (part 2)*

That night was again uneventful and the group slept better knowing that Krase was properly laid to rest (not to mention no longer stinking up the place).  But they were all keenly aware that they wouldn't be able to feel they had done Krase justice until his attackers were slain and his belongings returned to his family in Glynden.

They arose and ate a quick, cold breakfast before donning their gear.  Rhys cast a round of spells on the group to give them _Cat_like _Grace_.  Raven handed a pair of scrolls to Speaks that could be used to _Cure Moderate Wounds_ if necessary.  They then proceeded back to the smelting works to retrieve the war wagons.  To their unpleasant surprise, they found the wagons missing (and so was the third, broken mine cart)!

"Bloody, thievin' Kobolds!" growled Raven.  He put on a fair show of anger to help cover his embarrassment at having left the wagons unguarded inside an unlocked building approximately 100 feet from the Kobold's front door. (Biggest laugh of the session by far)

They grumbled as they approached the mine entrance.  Suddenly, they spotted movement further up the ridge and saw the forms of a pair of Kobolds flee into the brush.

"Those buggers have an entrance up there somewhere," said Raven.

"Yes, but it could take all day to find it in that dense undergrowth," replied Speaks.  "Besides, I think we've wasted enough time already."

Raven cringed again at another mention of his folly with the war wagons.  "Right then, let's go!"  With that, they entered the mine.

As they went, Rhys loaded his crossbow and then cast a _Light_ spell on the bolt.  Instead of heading directly to the intersection, they took the first left passage that they had bypassed before.  They soon found that this short hallway led to a largish room with may pegs on the walls.  Rhys felt sure that this was the room the miners used to store their equipment but none of that equipment was presently in evidence.  They backtracked to the main shaft and proceeded to the intersection.

Raven stepped out into the hallway and immediately a pair of arrows zipped out of the left-hand corridor and clanged off of his armor.  They were closely followed by a pair of _Magic Missiles_ which unerringly struck the dwarf.  Raven hung his warhammer back on his belt and pulled out his bow as he advanced.  Rhys fired his light-bolt down the corridor and it landed amid a group of surprised Kobolds. Speaks stepped out and called forth a _Flaming Sphere_ and sent it rolling into the midst of the Kobolds.  With the hallway now well lit, it appeared that this corridor also turned after 70-80 feet and plunged deeper into the ridge.

The Kobold archers fired another pair of arrows, neither of which struck their intended targets.  The other two Kobolds dashed around the corner, out of sight.

Rhys reloaded his crossbow and fired his first aimed shot, wounding one of the Kobolds slightly.  Speaks directed his ball of fire at the remaining archers who scampered out of the path of the thing, just at the last second.  Raven fired his bow as well and struck one of the Kobold archers.  His mighty bow dealt the creature a nasty wound.  Raven then advanced on the Kobolds.

But his progress was again interrupted as he came abreast with a narrow side passage, a Kobold lying in wait fired a pair of _Magic Missiles_, wounding the dwarf.  The Kobold then scurried further down the side passage into the darkness.

Noting the Kobold in the side passage, Rhys and Speaks hurried past and headed toward the corner where the Kobolds had retreated.  Raven knew that he could never catch up with the Kobold ambusher but didn't fancy the idea of having the Kobold come up behind them either.  He moved to follow Rhys and Speaks but kept his bow trained on the mouth of the side passage.

As Raven struggled to catch up, Rhys and Speaks pause at the corner long enough for Rhys to reload his crossbow.  Then the pair of them rounded the corner and, as expected, came under attack again.  A _Magic Missile_ struck Rhys but the arrows fired by the Kobold archers went wide.  Speaks rolled the nearby _Flaming Sphere_ further down the hall, providing some much needed illumination.  Just at the edge of the light, Rhys could see the Kobolds.  He cast a _Sleep_ spell among them and saw them topple over.

Meanwhile, as raven was backing toward Rhys and Speaks' location, another Kobold archer ducked out of the stairway passage on the opposite side of the main intersection and fired at him.  The bolt bounced harmlessly off of his armor and he fired back at the creature, missing.

Rhys ran forward to the pile of sleeping Kobolds to find he had caught all four with his spell!  He slung his crossbow and unsheathed his rapier for the dirty work.  Speaks advanced more cautiously, keeping an eye rearward to make sure Raven needed no help.  It appeared that he was doing fine.

But the Kobold archer sought to change that.  The creature fired another bolt and this one found its way through a crack in the dwarf's armor.  Although not a devastating injury, taken with all of the other damage Raven had absorbed, it was starting to take a toll.

Raven returned fire and received a satisfying yelp when his arrow struck the Kobold.  Rhys also gained a sense of grim satisfaction as he plunged his rapier into the breast of one of the sleeping Kobolds at his feet.  Speaks was no fan of slaying the helpless, but he had resigned himself that it was the only way they would ever be able to deal with the murderous Kobolds.  He moved down the corridor and used his long-spear to stab another of the slumbering creatures.

But a short distance away in the darkness, another pair of Kobolds took exception to the treatment of their brothers and fired their bows at Rhys and Speaks.  Rhys was struck and lightly wounded.

Meanwhile, the Kobold that had been trading arrows with Raven decided that he was getting the worse end of the deal and retreated back up the stairs out of sight.  "Bloody coward!" growled Raven as he limped back to the corner, beyond which Rhys and Speaks were being fired upon by archers in the darkness.

Rhys hastily drew out his crossbow and cast another _Light_ spell on the bolt.  Speaks wanted to assure that at least the few they had caught wound up dead and stabbed another one of the sleepers.

The archers fired again but neither arrow could penetrate the considerable defenses the party had erected.

Raven ducked around the corner and saw that neither of the others were in grave danger at the moment.  He began casting some healing spells on himself.

Rhys fired his bolt into the darkness and illuminated a pair of Kobolds crouched near a side passage.  Speaks finished off the last of the sleeping Kobolds with his spear and glanced backwards to see that Raven had joined them and was waiting back at the corner, presumably to ambush any Kobold that came around it.  In fact, Raven was in the process of healing the ample amount of damage he had absorbed so far.

The pair of Kobold archers launched a fresh pair of arrows at Speaks and Rhys.  One struck Speaks, causing a flesh wound and sent the Kobold into spasms of laughter.  Rhys responded with another _Sleep_ spell that sent one of the Kobolds to the mat, snoozing.  Speaks took a moment to heal some of the damage he had taken.  Raven was feeling much better now and still hadn't seen any Kobolds come around the corner, although he heard some noises nearby.  He cast another spell on himself to _Aid_ him in battle for whenever they showed up.

The Kobold archer that remained awake fired a haphazard shot at Rhys, which came nowhere close.  He then kicked his sleeping compatriot who began to stir from his slumber.

Somewhat frustrated that his spell wasn't more effective, Rhys recovered his rapier and headed down the hall toward the Kobolds.  It was time to dole out some vengeance.

Speaks began to hear some of the same noises from the main hallway that Raven had heard and moved in that direction to back up the dwarf if necessary.  Raven still had no one to smack with his hammer and decided to use some _Magic_ on his _Weapon_ to increase its effectiveness when the Kobolds decided to show themselves.

A moment later, a largish rat appeared around the corner for a moment.  That wasn't unusual as they had seen several rats in and around the mines.  The fact that this one turned around and scampered away was rather disconcerting.  Before Raven had a chance to report this unusual phenomenon to Speaks (the party expert about all things rat-like) the entire corner of the hallway was engulfed in a cluster of sticky webs.

Speaks, who had been hustling up the hallway to stand with Raven skidded to a halt just a few feet from where the webs ended.  He had dealt with such things before and knew that if the couldn't burn the webs, it might be a long time before Raven was free from their clutches.

Rhys glanced back and saw the webs blocking the hallway.  Turning around, he saw the pair of Kobold archers escape up the side passage near them.  He decided to press on, figuring that he couldn’t do any good with the web in the way.  And if he took this side passage that appeared to lead back to the main hallway, he might just be able to circle behind whoever cast that web and give them a nasty surprise.  He hurried after the retreating archers.

Raven was struggling against his sticky bonds when a Kobold stepped within view.  Raven figured the nasty creature was about to taunt him or fire off another of those infernal _Magic Missiles_.  In retrospect, either of those outcomes would have been far, far preferable to the _Lightening Bolt_ that flew from the Kobold's hands.  Trapped in the webs, Raven took the full brunt of the bolt as his armor conducted the blast of electricity directly to his flesh beneath.

The bolt missed Speaks by just a couple of feet.  The Druid frowned at this misuse of one of Nature's forces in such an unnatural way.  He also frowned because he thought it pretty likely that Raven was about to die.

But Raven still had some fight left in him.  The _Lightening Bolt_ had burned a path through the _Web_ in a direct line to the Kobold that had fired it and Raven charged forward with his warhammer poised to deal out some dwarven justice.  But as he stepped forward around the corner, he saw a small crowd of Kobolds ready and waiting.  More _Magic Missiles_ flew from their hands, undoing most of the healing that Raven had done over the last minute.  Despite the pain, he continued forward and brought his hammer down on the shoulder of the Kobold.  The creature yelped with pain but did not fall to the blow.

Rhys meanwhile continued to run up the narrow side passage with his rapier ready for any Kobolds he encountered.  Ahead, an arrow sailed out of the darkness and struck him but he continued to press forward until he saw his attacker.  As he watched, the bowman stepped out of his line of sight into what Rhys was certain was the main corridor they had been following.  He could see movement beyond the mouth of the passage that likely meant more Kobolds.

Raven saw another pair of Kobolds launch _Magic Missiles_ at him and the pair of bolts slammed into him, taking him to the edge of consciousness.  The Kobold facing the dwarf carefully backed away into the throng of other Kobolds for protection from the warrior of Moradin.

Seeing his predicament but unable to cross through the flaming _Web_, Speaks helped the dwarf in the only way he knew how.  He _Summoned_ an _Ally_ for the dwarf.  A huge badger appeared where the Kobold had stood only seconds before and immediately surged forward to attack the nearest Kobold, shredding the creature in seconds.

Raven glanced up to notice that the Kobolds were turning their attention to the side passage ahead and saw Rhys appear in the opening.  He longed to stay and battle the Kobolds with the young Sorcerer, but knew that the next attack that struck him would be his death.  He had no choice but to withdraw around the corner and try to heal himself.

The Kobold who had fired the _Lightning Bolt_ was now facing the giant badger that had just ripped apart one of the other Kobolds.  She raised her hands up and another _Lightning Bolt_ arced into the chest of the dire animal.  The look of bloodlust in the creature's eyes was enough to terrify any Kobold but a moment later, a _Magic Missile_ struck the badger and it sank to the ground unconscious.

Rhys emerged from the side passage to find himself flanked by a pair of Kobolds with short swords.  They slashed at him but missed by the narrowest of margins.  As if Rhys didn't have enough problems, a Kobold opposite him fired a _Magic Missile_ from nearly point blank range further wounding the young Sorcerer.  Rhys noted that the Kobolds were in perfect formation for one of his favorite tricks.  With his free hand, he pulled a wand from his belt and bellowed, "Asharak!"  Flame poured from the wand engulfing all the Kobolds around him.  The one who had hurled the Missile fell to the ground unconscious while those flanking him howled in pain and patted out the flames that licked at the leathers they wore.

Speaks was close enough to the corner to see the flash of fire and guessed that Rhys had gotten around behind them and was using his wand of _Burning Hands_ against the Kobolds.  Figuring that Rhys could use a little help, Speaks called forth another _Ally_, this time a giant weasel.  As he did so, Raven limped over with a dazed look on his face (he had 0 hp at this time) and took the bag of _Goodberries_ that Speaks had prepared.

Out in the hallway, one of the Kobolds made some arcane gestures and spoke a few words of Draconic and a _Web_ appeared in the hallway, catching the dire weasel within its sticky strands.  The weasel managed to remain free of most of the webs and began to carefully slink through the individual strands, seeking a way free to attack its prey.

Rhys meanwhile cast a _Sleep_ spell among the Kobolds clustered in the hallway.  The Kobolds flanking him attacked when he was distracted by the casting of his spell but Rhys deftly avoided their blows.  Unfortunately, the distraction of their attacks must have taken a toll on the spell's efficacy as only a single Kobold fell to the floor asleep.

Speaks was once again cut off from the combat by a _Web_ but he knew that Rhys was now in there alone.  He yelled to Raven, "We've got to get to Rhys!"  He then turned and ran down the hall to the side passage that Rhys had taken earlier.

Raven began to swallow fistfuls of _Goodberries_ to heal himself.  They also left his stomach feeling full almost to the point of discomfort.  He began to limp down the hallway after Speaks, moving even slower than usual.

The weasel continued to pick its way through the webs in an effort to sink its teeth into some of the Kobolds who were beginning to look worried.  The Kobold who seemed to be in charge looked back and forth between the approaching weasel and Rhys a couple of times.  Then her gaze settled on Rhys and from her hands flew another _Lightening Bolt_.  The bolt rammed into Rhys and sent the Kobolds around him scattering.  Rhys' body convulsed from the blast and toppled to the ground in a heap as his faithful familiar, Tavis leapt clear of his falling body.

Speaks heard the sound of the bolt and saw the flash reflected in the mouth of the tunnel ahead.  He continued to hurry to aid Rhys, hoping that it wouldn't be too late.  He also heard panicked Kobold voices crying out.  The echoes of the mines made it hard to tell what they were saying but it seemed to be something about "retreating" and "killer weasel".

Raven lumbered down the hall in pursuit of Speaks, continuing to cram fist after fist of _Goodberries_ into his gullet.

Tavis crouched defensively overtop of the smoking ruin of Rhys' body, powerless to stop his lifeblood from spilling onto the cold stone of the mine's floor.  In the hallway beyond, she saw the Kobolds quickly grab their fallen and retreat back toward the intersection as the dire weasel slipped through the last strands of the _Web_.

As Speaks ran up the narrow passage in the direction that Rhys had gone, he spotted a crumpled body laying on the floor ahead, lit by a torch.  Atop the body was Tavis and he knew it must be Rhys.  As he plunged down the passage toward his fallen friend, another _Web_ swallowed the hallway and portion of the side passage in which Rhys' body lay bleeding.  Speaks skidded to a halt just short of the webs desperately trying to get a look at Rhys between the thick strands.  He called out to Raven to hurry up.

Raven broke into a full run, which wasn't terribly fast, and called ahead, "I'm coming!"

Tavis had escaped being stuck in the _Web_ that held her master's body tight but still couldn't do anything to help him.  She cried out desperately over the link they shared hoping to establish some contact but got back nothing.  Then, just as she was about to give into despair, Rhys drew a ragged breath.

Speaks called out to Tavis to come to him and the brave little weasel began to duck between the webs seeking a way to the Druid.  Just then, Raven came clanking up the passage.  Speaks turned to him and asked for one of the _Goodberries_.  Raven handed over the whole bag and then began to bash his way through the webs toward Rhys.  The stout dwarf strained against the sticky mess and smashed about with his warhammer, slowly breaking one strand after another.

Speaks meanwhile gave a pair of the _Goodberries_ to Tavis and sent her following the broken strands left in the wake of the dwarf.  Finally, Raven made his way to Rhys' side and cast one of his minor healing spells on the limp form of the Sorcerer.  He turned back to Speaks and said, "The boy lives.  But barely."

Raven laboriously dragged Rhys from the web and lay his unconscious form at the feet of Speaks.  The Druid quickly went to work with one of their healing wands and coaxed the brash young Sorcerer back to consciousness.  Seeing that Rhys would be alright, Speaks and Raven both breathed a sigh of relief.

Raven sank to one knee, gasping for breath and said, "Well, what now?"

Rhys gave a wan smile and replied, "We press on of course."

*NEXT:  Against the Kobolds (Part 3:  Do they stay or do they go?)*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

(GM Note:  Rhys stabilized on his own at -8 hp.  If he hadn't, he would have died.  Nobody was close enough to get to him in time except for Speaks and he would have had to make some phenomenal rolls to break through the webs well enough to get to Rhys' side.

The Kobolds didn't stop to finish off Rhys because even one more round of delay and the dire weasel would have been upon them.  If the weasel got in close, they couldn't use the web to stop it and it would have likely killed several of them.  Besides, Rhys looked nearly dead already and the web cast as they retreated would virtually assure that nobody could get to him in time to save him.  Which turned out to be true.)

*Against the Kobolds (Part 3:  Do they stay or do they go?)*

"We what?!  You almost just died, lad.  You want to give them another shot at you?!" Spoke Raven in disbelief.

Speaks chimed in too, "I must agree with Raven.  We are all wounded and I have little magic left.  I think it would be imprudent to stay here.  Let us pull back to the tower and rest until we are able to regain our strength."

Rhys' resolve remained, "Look, these 'Kobolds' have magic similar to mine.  They have cast many of their spells on us and I don't think they can have very many left at this point.  If we go rest, so will they and we'll have to face those _Lightning Bolts_ all over again.  I'm not too keen on that.  Besides, I have a plan…"

The group took a few minutes to discuss their plan with Speaks and Raven wary of the whole idea.  But Rhys' force of personality won the day and he began to gather a number of scrolls that he would need.  And with that, the plan was set in motion.

First, Rhys used his wand of _Burning Hands_ to set fire to the _Web_ that trapped them in the narrow corridor.  He put the wand away and then used a scroll of _Invisibility_ on himself.  Following that he used one of his _Spider Climb_ spells.  He then used another scroll to _Locate_ Krase's Mithral breastplate.  He sensed it's presence deeper inside the mine.  He then used one of his minor spells to reach out with his mind and grab his Everburning Torch and send it floating back down the narrow corridor, some 30 feet ahead of him.  He proceeded back down the narrow passage, headed deeper within the mine.

Speaks and Raven watched him walk away and then made their way through the dying embers of the burned out web, headed toward the mine exit.  They cautiously made their way back through the main intersection and back to the short side passage to the empty equipment storage room.  There they paused and waited for any signs of the Kobolds.

Rhys meanwhile made it back to the shaft where they had slain the sleeping Kobolds just minutes before and turned to his right, headed deeper into the mine.  As he went, he moved cautiously and kept his concentration on holding the torch out in front of him.  He continued forward until he came to one of the diminutive side tunnels only large enough for a Kobold to fit comfortable through.

Wishing to avoid any possibility of colliding with a Kobold emerging from the side tunnel at an inopportune moment, he climbed along the wall above the mouth of the small tunnel.  Once past it, he continued forward.  As he did so, he glanced back and spotted a Kobold behind him, cautiously advancing to keep pace with the "mysterious floating torch".  Rhys ignored him.

Meanwhile, Speaks got ready to start a distraction and drew from his robes the Everflowing Bottle.  He braced himself against the tunnel wall and activated the magic of the bottle, causing a "Geyser" of water to shoot forth with great force.  He held the Bottle steady against the back pressure and began to send hundreds of gallons of water pouring down into the mine.

In the distance, Rhys could hear this sound and smiled, knowing that it would distract some of the Kobolds away from his scouting mission.  He continued on, arriving at another of the 5-foot wide passages that entered the main shaft at an angle.  Glancing across the shaft from the passage, he saw the glimmer of a silver vein in the opposite wall.  He deduced that the side passages must have been where the silver ore had already been excavated.  Noting this, he continued forward.

Not far beyond that point, he saw something shimmer beneath his floating torch and discovered that the floor of the shaft was covered with water.  As he approached closer, he saw the water continued as far down the shaft as he could see.  Surely the water that Speaks was unleashing from the Bottle hadn't started to flood the mines already?  Perhaps this portion of the mines had been flooded to begin with.  He noted that the passageway continued to slope slightly downward and it might become submerged entirely up ahead.  He figured he'd better check it out.  He climbed up the wall and onto the ceiling and continued forward slowly.

He continued down the passage for some 60 feet or so with the ceiling dropping closer and closer to the water level.  Finally, he could see by the torchlight ahead that the shaft became entirely submerged.  He turned and began to crawl back up the shaft, moving his torch back to its station 30 feet ahead of him.

But as his torch began to illuminate the shaft ahead, he could see that clustered at the edge of the water were four Kobolds.  And sitting amongst them was the black reptilian shape of the Shadow Dragon.  His allies had assured him that the dragon was only a shadowy replica of a real dragon, but it certainly looked real enough right now.  He paused briefly but quickly realized that he had no real choices.  There was only one way out and it was right past that group.  He advanced toward the waiting group.

His torch arrived at the group ahead of him and the dragon suddenly lunged out and bit down on it, causing the torchlight to dance.  Rhys hurried ahead, knowing that in a few moments, he would probably lose his light source entirely.  The torchlight flickered as the dragon masticated the heatless light of the torch and then all was dark.

Continued to climb forward, knowing that at the moment, he must be right over the heads of the Kobolds and just inches from the dragon.  His eyes went wide with terror when he heard the sound of a large muzzle sniffing close to him.  Then, pain shot through his leg as the dragon's jaws clamped down on it.  But he did note that the pain was less than he would have expected.  Perhaps Speaks and Raven were right about the dragon not being the real thing.  Regardless, in the utter darkness, without any means of defending himself, he was at the mercy of the beast.  He scurried forward along the ceiling as fast as he could go.

A second later, the dragon bit him again, along the torso this time.  The wound was minor but Rhys knew that time was still on the dragon's side.  He had to get back to the main shaft where Speaks and Raven were and get there fast.  At the moment he finished forming that thought, he was struck suddenly by a pair of arrows, presumably fired by the Kobolds just below him.  If they could see him now, he was as good as dead.  He hoped that they had just gotten lucky and continued to scrabble ahead along the ceiling.

As he went, he kept near the right wall of the shaft and his right hand felt out for the next side passage.  He couldn't be sure but he guessed that the passage led back to the central mine shaft and that would put him closer to Speaks and Raven.  His right hand reached out for the wall and felt it falling away to the northwest.  He had found the side passage.  He pressed forward with the dragon nipping at his heels (and occasionally catching one for minor damage) and arrows bouncing off the walls and ceiling, always right after the dragon bit.  (GM Note:  The Kobolds couldn't see him but whenever the dragon seemed to bite down on something and they heard a grunt of pain, they would shoot at either side of the dragon's head.  After that first time, they never hit Rhys again but they did hit the dragon twice.)

Rhys raced along the ceiling of the side passage and the sound of the geyser of water being unleashed by Speaks became louder.  If the dragon didn't kill him first, he knew he could find his way out.  Moments later, the sound again grew appreciably louder and he turned his gaze to see a distant rectangle of light:  The mine entrance.

He hurried that direction and took a moment to concentrate on his Amulet of Communication.  "Speaks!  I'm coming for the mine entrance followed by a dragon and a bunch of Kobolds!"

Upon receiving this message, Speaks yelled for Raven to get ready to cover Rhys as he approached.  Raven readied his bow and aimed down the central shaft waiting to shoot anything that dared show its head.  He didn't have to wait long.

Speaks spoke the command word and turned off the Bottle.  As things grew quieter, they could hear the yipping sounds of Kobold speech down the corridor.  Then, the black shape of the dragon came into view, biting at something unseen near the ceiling.  Raven fired his bow down the passage and his arrow skipped off the scales of the beast.

Rhys could see his friends now.  Apparently, one of them had cast a _Light_ spell on a small stone and tossed down the corridor ahead of them to provide illumination.  He continued along the ceiling.  The dragon seemed to be having a hard time getting his jaws around him lately and he certainly didn't want to experience that sensation again.  He crossed the main intersection and spotted some movement down the side passages but didn't pause to examine it.  He saw Raven fire another arrow behind him and knew the dragon must be closing in again.

Speaks readied himself to attack the dragon and saw that a number of Kobolds were trailing the beast up the main corridor.  First among them was one that looked familiar.  It was the one that had cast the _Lightning Bolts_ earlier!  A warning cry rose in his throat and then the world exploded in crackling light.

From the fingers of the Kobold flew a blast of lightning that, while not as far ranging as the previous ones, filled the entire corridor.  Rhys never saw it coming.  His natural instincts kicked in and he hugged the ceiling but still couldn't escape all of the blast.  The damage inflicted by the dragon had taken its toll and the young Sorcerer fell to the muddy floor of the mine shaft unconscious and near death.  Had he been conscious, he may have taken minor consolation at the fact that the dragon was also caught in the bolt and its shadowy form dissipated in a puff of smoke.

Raven, standing nearly immobile in his thick carapace of steel took the full brunt of the blast and also fell over unconscious.  Speaks managed to get between two of the most powerful arcs of electricity and only took part of the damage.  Glancing around, he saw that Raven was down and Rhys (still invisible) was nowhere in sight.  He was alone.

Enraged, he hefted his long-spear and charged the Kobold Sorceress.  He struck her low in the torso and she crumpled to the ground.  The other Kobolds around her looked on with shock as their leader fell.  But they still outnumbered the human and maneuvered to outflank him.  One tumbled by and came up behind the Druid but another slipped on the waterlogged mud floor and paid the price.  Speaks plunged his spear all the way through the chest of the creature and out the other side (critical hit).  The other Kobold stepped forward and delivered a vicious slash across his thigh while he was distracted.

Speaks moved deeper down the hallway, toward the intersection but out of reach of his attackers.  As he went, one of the Kobolds struck at him but his superior *Mobility* kept him safe from the attack.  The Kobolds moved back in to attack and Speaks thrust his spear at one and missed.  The Kobolds also missed but had moved back into flanking positions.

Speaks could tell that these Kobolds were good at fighting this way.  He could also see the bleeding, smoking form of Raven lying in the mud near the mine entrance and knew that time was running out.  He moved quickly to disengage from the Kobolds and once again, his training at staying mobile during combat saved him from their blades.

It appeared that the Kobolds were just as happy to let Speaks disengage.  As he fell back, they grabbed the fallen Kobolds and fled around the corner.  Speaks _Summoned_ a _Swarm_ of rats in the middle of the intersection to keep the Kobolds away while he dealt with his fallen comrades.

He first used a minor healing spell on Raven to stop his bleeding.  Then he cast about for some sign of Rhys.  He had never seen him come up the hall and assumed that he must still be _Invisible_.  His eyes passed over a seemingly bare patch of muddy floor and then something caught his eye (Speaks' player rolled a 6 spot check and then used a "Fate Chip" to re-roll, getting a 15 on the second roll.).  He saw a vaguely humanoid impression in the mud and felt around, encountering Rhys' body.  He cast another minor healing spell to stop his bleeding and then dragged him into the side passage that led to the equipment storage room.  He quickly returned to the main shaft and grabbed Raven's unconscious form as well.  As he did, he could see some more movement and hear noises deeper in the mine.  He was sure they were being watched.

Once he had Rhys and Raven safely in the side passage, he used his Wand of Healing to heal Raven to consciousness.  When the dwarf came to, he handed him the spare Wand of Healing that he had been saving and said, "Start healing yourself.  We need to get out of here soon."

Raven took the wand and looked around.  Rhys was nowhere to be seen and thought it best not to ask about that (Rhys was right next to him, invisible with -8 HP).  Raven set about healing himself with the wand.

A few moments later, the Druid and the Cleric were feeling much healthier, although still not fantastic.  Speaks told Raven that he suspected the Kobolds were waiting for them to poke their heads out into the main shaft.  To illustrate his point, he _Summoned_ a Dire Rat in the hallway just outside the passage they hid in.  Instantly two _Magic Missiles_ struck the creature and it fell to the ground senseless.

"See?" said Speaks.

"We need to get out of here.  Soon and fast." Replied Raven.  "Where's Rhys?"

Speaks showed Raven that Rhys was right there with them, unconscious and still invisible.  Raven stroked his beard thoughtfully and reached into the seemingly bottomless Haversack that he wore.  He pulled out a potion.  "I know I walk slower'n you most of the time.  But this elixir will help with that.  I'll get the lad and you follow me out."  He slung Rhys over his shoulder and made his way to the edge of the main shaft.  He drank the potion and then dashed out into the hallway.

Before he had taken more than a couple of steps, six _Magic Missiles_ shot from further down the main shaft and struck the dwarf.  He staggered under the assault but did not fall.  He turned and raced for the exit of the mine as fast as he could go (which was twice as fast as normal thanks to the potion of Expeditious Retreat).

As he emerged from the mine into the cool morning air, he smiled.

That's when the two Kobolds lying in ambush above the mine entrance shot him in the back.  The first arrow struck him in the shoulder, knocking him to the ground and pushing him beyond the realm of consciousness.  The other arrow would have killed the dwarf but it didn't strike him.  It struck the invisible, unconscious Rhys hanging over his other shoulder.

Back in the cave, Speaks heard the dwarf cry out and then heard his heavy armor come crashing to the ground.  Feeling that he needed additional speed, he concentrated and transformed into the form of an eagle.  Then he flew out into the main shaft and banked right toward the exit.  He too was struck with a volley of _Magic Missiles_ (only 4 ) as he hurried to the freedom of the outdoors.

As he burst out of the mineshaft, he saw Raven lying on the ground and saw a pair of arrows streak by him from above.  He made a tight turn in the direction of the arrows and saw a pair of Kobolds crouched behind some bushes further up the ridge.  He moved in their direction and they broke and ran.  He longed to chase them but his friends needed him.  He alighted next to the dwarf and transformed back into human form.

A few feet away, he could see a dusty, muddy outline that must be Rhys.  He used the wand once to heal Rhys before turning his attention back to Raven.  He knelt over the dwarf and used the healing wand again to bring him to consciousness.

Speaks told Raven to check on Rhys and get ready to move if the Kobolds pursued them.  Looking further up the ridge, he could see that the Kobold archers were still watching them from a cluster of bushes.  Speaks _Entangled_ that area and saw the Kobolds struggle against the bushes.

He turned back to Raven who was looking at him somberly.  "How is he?"

Raven replied sorrowfully, "The lad's dead."

*NEXT:  Torrents*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Torrents*

Speaks felt the grief well up inside him.  He had been through so much with the boys from Glynden and now they had both been killed in the span of just a few days.  He bellowed back down the mine tunnel, "I curse this mine!  Leave it or you shall all drown!"

With that, Raven hefted the limp and invisible body of Rhys and marched back to the safety of the tower.  Speaks followed in eagle form, spotting from overhead to assure they were not followed by the Kobolds.

Once Rhys was laid down in what used to be the tower kitchen, Speaks and Raven grabbed a bottle of the Novantae scotch and held a wake for the young Sorcerer.  Speaks talked of the many close scrapes they had had against the Orcs during the Winter War.  He told Raven about the heroics of the two young boys that he would never get to meet.

Finally, they bedded down for the night and slept the restless sleep of the vengeful.

As morning rose the next day, Speaks and Raven wasted no time marching toward the mine entrance.  They approached cautiously until they were just outside the dark opening.  Then, Raven stood guard while Speaks called upon the powers of nature to weaken the earth and stone just inside the mouth of the mine.  He repeated his chanting until the entire hillside above the mine collapsed and all that remained of the entrance were the old timbers standing before a mass of mud and earth.

Speaks then called his feathered friends around him and bade them find any other bolt holes the Kobolds might have nearby.  The birds took flight and scattered.  Speaks and Raven waited.

After a while, Speaks grew impatient and decided to do some scouting for himself.  He concentrated and took the form of a dog and began sniffing around for Kobold scent.  He rapidly located the trail of one of the Kobolds and followed it up hill onto the rocky and wooded ridge into which the mines were dug.  Some 200 feet up the ridge, hidden behind a cluster of bushes, he found a hole beneath a large stone.  The hole was only two feet across, the perfect size for one of the Kobold ambushers.

Speaks transformed back into human form and began to cast about for a sizable stone.  He and Raven found one that they could lift and brought it next to the hole.  There, Speaks used more of his magic to render the stone soft and malleable.  Speaks began to mold the rock, talking to it in a strange tongue.  Raven sat back and regarded this ritual with a mix of curiosity and awe.  He now understood where the Druid had gotten his name.

When Speaks was done, he had molded the stone into a rounded plug just large enough to block up the hole.  In the center, he had left a narrow hole through the stone.  He and Raven lifted the stone into place and it neatly blocked up the tunnel.  Speaks reached into his belt pouch and brought out the Everflowing Bottle which he inserted into the hole in the rock.  He braced his hand on the bottom of the bottle and uttered the word “Geyser” in Draconic and water began to spray from the bottle down into the narrow tunnel.

Speaks held the bottle in place and cast another of his spells to mold stone.  He then pushed the back end of the hole in the rock around the bottom of the bottle until it was completely sealed inside the stone.  The muted sound of the gushing water could be heard through the rock and earth around them as gallon after gallon of water poured down into the hole and into the mines.

Speaks looked at Raven with grim satisfaction and said, “Now we wait.”

And wait they did.  A couple of hours later, one of the birds returned and landed on Speaks’ shoulder.  It soon led him roughly 150 feet further up slope to another small tunnel.  This one was dug at the base of a large oak tree and the roots of the tree framed the entrance.  Realizing that it was possible that the Kobolds could exit the mines through this passage, Speaks sought a way to block it.  But he had already used most of his magic to plug the lower hole and the main mine entrance.

Raven trudged back down to the smelting works to get some support timbers to block the hole with.  As he arrived at the building, he saw that water was pouring out from under the doors.  He hurried back to get Speaks and they cautiously entered the building.  Water was flowing out of the sump well at a rapid rate.  Speaks used a spell and molded one of the thickest support timbers into a thin slab of wood that barely covered the five foot wide well.   They wedged the board into place against the axle above the well.  Water still escaped around the edges but it would do until a more permanent solution could be found the following day.  Then they retrieved a pair of the large support timbers there and dragged them up the ridge to the second hole.  Raven and Speaks jammed the timbers as far into the hole as they could.  They then discussed what to do next. 

Speaks felt that they must guard the entrance where they had positioned the Everflowing Bottle.  If the Kobolds had another exit from the mines they would likely exit there and try to find a way to turn off the torrents of water pouring into the mine.  If they left the Bottle unattended for an extended period, the Kobolds would probably find a way to disarm it.  Besides, if the Kobolds approached that entrance, Speaks wanted them to be around to kill them.

Before heading back down slope to where the Bottle was, Speaks attached some of his stone carving tools to the ends of the support timbers that jutted out of the second hole.  They figured that if the Kobolds tried to move the timbers from the inside, the tools would rattle together, serving as a makeshift alarm.  That done, they made their way back to the Bottle-rock and set up camp.

*NEXT: The Best Laid Plans of Dwarves and Men*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Interlude*_
A mile east of the edge of Aquae Sulis, the leaves rustled on the south side of the overgrown road that led to Glynden.  A lone figure pulled a blanket over himself and brushed a few handfuls of leaves on top of it.  The wilds west of Glynden were no place for a single traveler to bivouac but this wasn’t a normal traveller.

If anything he could be called a wanderer.  For the last few years, that’s all he had done.  He couldn’t seem to find a home anywhere.  No body wanted Scar around for long.

Scar had been born in the southern reaches of the Blackpeaks, son of an orcish father and a human captive.  He wasn’t like the rest of the orcs in his tribe.  He wasn’t quite as strong as some of them, but he was a lot smarter and quicker than most of them.  He had even earned some status among them as an accomplished scout since he had an easier time operating during the daytime.  That honor had even earned him one of his most prized possessions, a ring that let him go without food and water when necessary and left him completely refreshed with but little sleep.

That had all changed one day when his father, Ghaskbog had led a failed ambush against a group of humans.  Ghaskbog was challenged for his leadership of the tribe and killed by a rival.  Scar’s mother was killed and Scar abandoned his tribe.  He renounced the brutal ways of the orcs and headed east to seek out the human lands that his mother had spoken about when he was a child.

Along the way, he had met a group of humans battling a small pack of Gnolls.  Scar aided them and they allowed him to stay the night in their camp.  He got to know them, especially a human woman who followed St. Cuthbert.  The humans were missionaries who were travelling to a small town nearby to establish a church.  Scar followed them and became a follower of St. Cuthbert, renouncing his barbarous ways.

Since then, he had traveled from town to town, trying to aid the cause of the church in whatever ways he could but inevitably his heritage and ugly appearance could not be overlooked by those he sought to help.  He would move on again before any trouble started.

Most recently, he had made his way to the frontier town of Glynden, hoping that he could find a place where his fighting skills could be appreciated and his orcish history could be overlooked.  But having just fought a war against the orcs alongside the barbarian tribes of the Fodor, the people of Glynden were not as receptive as he had hoped.

There was a man there who did have compassion for Scar.  Father Tomas, the local priest of St. Cuthbert had allowed him to stay in the church while he was in Glynden.  But even Father Tomas knew that sooner or later, someone in Glynden would pick a fight with Scar and someone would be seriously hurt or killed (most likely the townsperson given Scar’s rippling muscles and the vicious war-pick that he carried).  Father Tomas asked Scar to leave Glynden and go west to check on the progress of the Heroes of the Winter War against the Gnolls in Aquae Sulis.  He hoped that if Scar could be associated with the boys from Glynden that he would be more readily accepted by the townspeople.

And so here Scar was, curled up for his evening nap, nestled in his blanket and a few handfuls of leaves.  Homeless and hopeful, just like always.

GM Note:  Scar is the replacement character for Rhys’ player.  Scar is a ½ Orc Lawful Neutral Barbarian 2/Fighter 3 who is 16 years old and hungry for adventure.  He has a nasty scar from the bridge of his nose to the corner of his mouth and wears his black hair in a mohawk.  He dual wields a pick and a light mace.  He always does what is right for the community even if the community doesn’t always return the favor.  He has tamed the chaotic nature of his people (leaving him without the ability to Rage) but he is still a bit impulsive and seems to abhor inactivity._


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*The Best Laid Plans of Dwarves and Men*
Speaks was awakened by Raven to take his turn at watch.  He moved closer to the fire and warmed his hands against the cold night of early spring.  A bit later, he stood to stretch his legs and noticed a small light down slope from their camp.  As he watched, the light became bigger until it was identified as a fire.  And it continued to grow further until Speaks realized what it came from.  The smelting works was on fire.

He muttered under his breath, “Damn Kobolds!”  He considered waking Raven and going to investigate but figured that it was probably a distraction to get them to abandon the Everflowing Bottle.  Instead, he called down one of his birds and tried his best to get across the message that he wanted the bird to go and look for Kobolds around the burning building.  The bird flew off into the night and Speaks resumed his vigil.

Just over a mile to the east, Scar woke from his nap to the smell of woodsmoke.  He reasoned that he must be near a large campfire, but whether it was the fire of the Gnolls or the “Heroes” he sought, he couldn’t be sure.  He cautiously made his way upwind to the west.

A short while later, he could make out a fire in the distance and it was much larger than a campfire.  It was a large building completely enshrouded in flames.  He wasn’t sure what that meant but he wasn’t going to wait around for a written invitation.  He clutched his pick in hand and continued forward.

He made his way to within a hundred feet of the fire and that was plenty close enough.  The ground around the building was completely saturated with water and was a morass of thick mud.   Why anyone would build a building in the midst of a small swamp was beyond him.  And why anyone would burn it down was too.  He figured his first assessment was still correct.  It was either the Gnolls or the Heroes who had burned down the building and either way, it didn’t pay for him to sit around thinking about it.  He moved in a wide circle around the burning building until he spotted another fire, this one much smaller, further up the ridge.  He quietly crept toward it.

The bird dispatched by Speaks returned to him and seemed to indicate that there were no Kobolds near the burning building.  More than ever, Speaks was convinced that the whole thing was a distraction.  He continued to peer about into the darkness, looking for any sign of a Kobold ambush.  Then he heard a furtive noise down slope from him and prepared to attack the source if it turned out to be a Kobold.

Scar cringed as the piece of bark broke off the tree he leaned against.  A cloaked figure just over a hundred feet away was looking in his direction.  Gnolls didn’t usually wear cloaks and a Gnoll could probably see him at this distance anyway, but it didn’t pay to take chances when you had no backup.  He stayed still and continued to watch the figure, hoping something it did would give away its identity as a friend or foe.

Speaks couldn’t see anything in the darkness.  Worse yet, he was probably silhouetted by the camp fire.  He concentrated and transformed into the form of a wolf to take advantage of that creature’s superior senses.  He crept forward a few feet go get clear of the firelight.

Scar swore that he hadn’t blinked at the wrong moment.  One second the cloaked figure was standing there and then it just seemed to collapse in on itself and was gone.  Perhaps whoever it was had crouched down to take advantage of the ample underbrush to hide in.  Scar kept his senses alert for an ambush.

Speaks moved between a cluster of bushes at the edge of the camp and padded his way slightly down slope.  Then he could finally see who was creeping around in the darkness.  It was a humanoid figure, definitely too big to be a Kobold and too furless to be a Gnoll.  Most likely it was a human.  Speaks transformed back to human form and called out, “I know you’re there.  Show yourself and let us talk.”

Scar noted that the figure had reappeared several feet from where it had disappeared.  Then it spoke to him in Imperial and offered to parlay.  Probably not a Gnoll then.  He stood and approached the figure, stopping some 30 feet away.  “You from Glynden?”  He asked in his raspy voice.

“I am from around those parts, yes.” Replied Speaks.

“Father Tomas sent me.”

“Father Tomas?”

“Ya.  He wants to know how you’re doin’ against the Gnolls.”

Speaks grimaced at the thought of how well they were doing lately.  “Come over by the fire and we can talk.”

Speaks and Scar gathered near the fire and spoke quietly while Raven snored loudly nearby.  Speaks explained that while they had been successful in driving the Gnolls away, Krase had died in a showdown with one of their champions and now Rhys had died in their attempts to clear the mines of Kobolds. 

During the conversation, Scar handed over a pouch that contained a pair of healing potions the Father Tomas had sent to the group.  After hearing Speaks' tale of woe, Scar nodded and asked if he had any other messages to deliver back to Father Tomas.

Speaks understood that Scar was acting in the capacity of a messenger but he pleaded with the warrior not to carry the news back yet.  Speaks wanted a chance to redeem himself and send more positive news back to Glynden.  Plus, he admitted, he and Raven could use some extra help against the Kobolds.

Scar considered this.  He knew that he wasn't all that welcome back in Glynden anyway.  Being the bearer of bad tidings would probably not help that situation.  It was clear that those folks would benefit if the mines could be cleared of Kobolds.  And besides, he hadn't gotten to smite any evil-doers with his pick and mace lately.

"I'm in." Said Scar.

Speaks smiled, "Let me introduce you to Raven."  He bent and shook the dwarf awake.  Raven woke and Speaks explained that a messenger from the church of St. Cuthbert had come from Glynden.  He introduced Scar.

The still bleary eyed Raven regarded Scar in the half light of the fire, "Bloody hell you're ugly!  Well, welcome anyway."  And with that, the dwarf rolled back over and resumed sleeping.

Speaks looked sheepishly at Scar.  "He's a little grumpy when he's awakened during the night."  Scar rolled his eyes.  He was used to comments like that.

He settled in by the fire and listened to Speaks talk for a while longer about how he had "made a river pour from that stone" which was flooding the mines below them.  A short while later, Speaks was interrupted when part of the hillside slumped into a shallow hole and the geyser of water emanating from the back of the stone was revealed.  It seems that the flow of water had undermined the slope of the ridge and a large slab of the hillside had collapsed.  The narrow tunnel was now blocked by this mass of mud and stone and most of the water from the Bottle-rock was now just pouring out and running down the ridge.

Speaks acted casually about the whole thing in the face of several questions from Scar.  He told the half-orc that they would simple move the stone up to the higher tunnel in the morning.

Scar had been growing impatient anyway and upon learning that there was another hole nearby, he hefted his pick and went to check it out.  He found it with no difficulties and discovered the pair of support timbers were laid neatly beside the hole and the stone carving tools were nowhere in sight.  Scar shoved the timbers back down into the hole as far as he could and then positioned himself on the tree roots just above the hole with pick in hand.  He hoped that the Kobolds would try again to emerge from the hole and he could wallop them.  But the rest of the pre-dawn hours passed uneventfully.  Scar returned back to the campfire as he heard the dwarf putting on his armor.

As Scar strode back into their small camp, Raven did a double take.  "Criminy!  It's an ORC!" he shouted and fumbled for his warhammer.  Speaks tried to calm the dwarf and explained that while Scar was indeed of orcish heritage, he had renounced the ways of the orcs and followed the path of St. Cuthert now.  Raven listened with disbelief and then stalked away for his morning prayers muttering something about, "hope he doesn't slit yer' throat before I get back!"

Raven returned a short while later and used one of his spells to assure himself that Scar was Evil incarnate.  He was shocked and disappointed to find that he wasn’t. (We all had a good laugh when Raven's player made a motion as though he was shaking his holy symbol and saying, "Is this thing on?").  Raven allowed that while, apparently, Scar wasn't evil, he still didn't trust him.

(GM Note:  These guys go out of their way to portray their less than stellar Charisma's.  Speaks used to be regarded as the Grumpy Hermit with his low-ish Cha score.  But there was also the silver tongued Rhys and the quirky but affable Krase to offset him.  Now, Speaks is tied for the highest Charisma in the group.  He and Raven both have an 8.  Scar has a 6.  Some Dale Carnegie courses would probably help this crowd out a bit.  If it weren't for the "Crucible of Combat", I'd be a bit worried about group cohesion.  But, believe me, the "Crucible" is very much fired up at the moment.)

Speaks communed with nature to regain his magic while Scar and Raven eyed each other suspiciously.  Then Speaks returned to the camp and got right to work.

First, he re-molded the Bottle-rock into more of a wheel shape (turning off the geyser in the process).  Then Scar and Raven carried the stone up to the upper hole and replaced the timbers with the Bottle-rock.  Speaks had left the back end of the Everflowing Bottle exposed this time so that he could turn it on and off more easily.

With the stone firmly capping the tunnel exit, Speaks then used his wood molding magic to move several of the larger roots of the oak tree to hold the stone in place.  He also placed a root over the back of the bottle to cover it and to help hold it in place against the back-pressure of the geyser.  With that done, he turned the water back on.  With that done, the group gathered their things and descended the ridge to the burned remains of the smelting works.

The ground around the base of the ridge was now a complete swamp.  The smelting works sat in the midst of this area with only the bottom couple of feet of the building having escaped the flames.  There was very little ash since most of it had been washed away by water flowing out of the sump well.

At the moment, the water still flowed from the well, but only a trickle compared to what they had seen the previous day.  The wooden plank they had covered it with was gone, either sabotaged by the Kobolds or burned in the fire.  Either way, they knew that a more permanent cap was needed for the well if they hoped to flood out the Kobolds.

They searched a perimeter around the burned out building and found a rock formation near the base of the ridge, just under a hundred feet away.  They estimated how difficult it would be to move a stone of the necessary size through the woods between the base of the ridge and the well.  It seemed too far, especially given all the trees.

Speaks decided that if he shaped one of the large boulders down into a wheel, they could turn it on its side and more easily maneuver it through the woods.  He set to work molding the stone and muttering his incantations.  Although he had borne the appellation "Speaks With Stone" for several years, he felt that he had finally, truly earned that title.

Once the stone was molded, the three of them wrestled it upright onto one edge.  It was six feet across and weighed as much as ten men.  They began to slowly roll it through the woods toward the sump well.  This was no easy task to begin with and was made especially difficult because of the muddy ground.  Their feet slipped and sank in the mire as inch by inch, the wheel of stone rolled to it's destination.

They were half way to the remains of the smelting works when Scar and Raven heard a sound to the east.  The looked up to see several Kobolds moving furtively through the woods in their direction.  The Kobolds saw that they had been spotted and before the party could react, the trees around them became enshrouded in sticky _Webs_.  Speaks and Scar huddled close to the stone and remained un-stuck but Raven was covered in _Webs_ and was going nowhere.

Scar struggled to fight his way through the sticky mess to get at the Kobolds but the strands were surprisingly strong and he made no progress.  Speaks on the other hand was through with attempting half-measures to escape these things.  He muttered an incantation and called forth a _Flaming Sphere_ right between Scar and Raven.  The ball of fire hissed as it rolled across the swampy ground, carving a path through the flammable webs.

The fire quickly spread throughout the webs and although they were lightly burned, the party was now free.  Scar made it out of the webs first and saw that the Kobolds were retreating.  He dashed after them at an astounding rate, rapidly closing the distance.  Speaks saw the way they were headed and feared that they were making for the tower.  He knew that if they got inside, it would be hell getting them out again.  He concentrated and took the form of an eagle.

Raven looked at their stone wheel and saw that it presently rested against a tree.  It would probably stay standing if left unattended so he did the only thing he could.  He slogged through the swampy woods after Scar at his slow and steady pace.  As he went, he drew out his bow, figuring that his arrows would be in range to harm the Kobolds long before his hammer would.

Scar continued to race after the fleeing Kobolds and could now see that there were eight of them.  They were barking rapidly back and forth to each other in a language that Scar didn't understand.  No matter.  In just a second, he was going to introduce them to a language that he understood quite well:  The language of DEATH!

Speaks took to the air and raced overhead seeking to outdistance the Kobolds and get ahead of them.  His avian speed was more than up to the task and he landed some 200 feet beyond the diminutive raiders.

But instead of continuing to charge headlong toward where Speaks waited for them, the Kobolds suddenly turned to face the approaching Scar.  Four of them grouped into a loose defensive screen and the other four let fly with a volley of _Magic Missiles_ (5 to be exact).

The bolts of power slammed into the half-orc but he charged on undeterred.  He had seen that one of the Kobolds had fired a pair of the bolts and must therefore be more powerful than the others.  Scar hurled himself forward ready to strike with his pick.  As he ran through the defensive screen, two of the defenders slashed him along the flanks dealing minor wounds to the powerful young warrior.  But still Scar did not relent.  He charged the Kobold spellcaster and drove his pick into the creature dealing a nasty wound.  It was clear that the Kobold would not survive another such strike.

While this was taking place, Speaks transformed himself back to human form.  He felt that he was close to mastering the ability to use his magic while in animal form, but he wasn't quite there yet.  As for Raven, he continued to slowly close the distance between himself and where the fight was taking place, cursing the orc for his speed.

The Kobolds who had arrayed themselves defensively now quickly moved to surround Scar, slashing at him from every side with their short swords.  A pair of them scored nasty wounds along Scar's flanks.  Apparently, Scar's name would be even more appropriate after this battle.  If he survived.

The Kobold that he had wounded before stepped back away from the fearsome warrior and let fly another pair of _Magic Missiles_ and the three other Kobold spellcasters each cast one of their own.  The bolts snaked through the air and struck Scar with unerring accuracy, sending him reeling to the ground, unconscious.

Speaks could now tell that the Kobolds were no longer advancing in his direction.  They had stopped to fight Scar.  Speaks moved closer to where the battle was taking place and saw the Kobolds tightly clustered around the prone body of the half-orc.  In the distance, he could hear the sound of Raven clanking and crashing through the undergrowth.

Raven still hurried toward the fight.  He was within a long bowshot now, but with all the trees in the way, the chances of his arrow making it to the target were not favorable.  Better to get closer for a better shot.

The Kobolds heard the dwarf coming too and four of them once again moved to form a defensive screen to attack any who threatened the Sorcerers.  The three lesser Sorcerers turned and saw Speaks approaching from the rear.  Two fired off _Magic Missiles_ at him, wounding the Druid lightly.  The third waited, keeping an eye on Speaks.  Meanwhile, the other Kobold Sorcerer, still wounded from Scar's pick, drew a dagger from his belt and stepped over the fallen half-orc.

Through the trees, Speaks couldn't be certain what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good.  Scar was down and Raven was still too far away to help.  He needed to give those Kobolds something to think about.  He began chanting and moving his hands in an expansive gesture.

Seeing this, the third of the lesser Kobold Sorcerers fired his _Magic Missile_ at Speaks, hoping to ruin whatever magic he was doing.  The bolt struck the Druid but Speaks was able to ignore the pain and finish the spell.  The area of woods around the Kobolds (and the fallen Scar) came to life as the branches and roots attempted to _Entangle_ the Kobolds.

Raven was finally close enough to brave a bow shot.  He drew out an arrow and fired in one smooth motion but his target ducked the shot just barely.  Raven took a few steps closer and could see that Scar was down amid the throng of Kobolds.  He had admittedly mixed feelings about that.

Roughly half of the Kobolds were _Entangled_ in the first instant of the spell.  But several managed to escape the grasping branches around them.  Among these was the one who stood over Scar with dagger in hand.  He briefly considered slitting the throat of the brute.  But he could tell that every second he remained in the area of this magic he was in danger of being grabbed by the roots and branches around him.  Seeing the Dwarf firing arrows at them made the decision for him.  He was wounded already and couldn't afford to get shot with an arrow.  He bolted for the edge of the _Entanglement_.  So did several of the others.

Speaks saw that between those who had avoided his spell immediately and those who had deftly escaped the bonds of the plants, more than half of the Kobolds were now free.  Most were at the edge of the _Entanglement_ opposite him, closest to Raven.  He decided that they had gotten off a bit too easy and cast a second _Entangle_ spell that attempted to recapture those who had gotten away.

Raven saw one of the Kobolds standing near Scar with a knife in hand.  Then he saw the creature begin to limp away, dodging the tree limbs that tried to ensnare it.  He pulled another shaft from his quiver and smoothly fired a shot at the Kobold.  He smiled as the arrow struck true and the Kobold toppled to the ground.  He moved forward again and saw that the Kobolds were now widely scattered in an attempt to escape the grasping limbs of the surrounding trees and bushes.

The Kobolds who were free of the entangled areas ran in all directions at top speed.  Those who were captured by the vines and roots desperately attempted to slip free of their bonds.

Speaks noted that the Kobolds *looked* like they were in full retreat.  But he had fought these dubious creatures too many times to take this at face value.  He transformed himself into an eagle again and took to the sky.

Raven knew that he was too slow to catch up to those that fled.  But some 60 feet away, he saw one of the Kobolds was being held fast by some tree roots.  The Dwarf sent an arrow plunging into the Kobold's chest, severely wounding the creature.

Another of the Kobolds who had been held fast by the _Entangle_ spell escaped and fled at top speed.  From his vantage high above, Speaks could see them running with his superior vision.  It didn't look like they were trying to circle back to attack Raven.  He looked down and saw Scar lying entangled by the saplings around him, bleeding.  He needed healing and needed it soon.

Raven fired a second shot at the entangled Kobold and mercifully ended the life of the pitiful creature.  Looking around, he saw that all the other Kobolds had fled.  He approached the edge of the area where the tree limbs were grabbing everything that moved.  It looked like Scar was hurt but he couldn't tell how bad.  He was also pretty sure that if he went in to help him, the roots and limbs of the Druid's spell would hopelessly envelop him.  Where was that Druid, anyway?

Speaks was just about to dive down to aid Scar when he spotted something with his acute vision.  Up along the ridge he could see a black smudge through the budding spring foliage.  He couldn't make it out exactly but something dark and larger than a Kobold was up on the ridge, right where the Bottle-rock was.  He looked down and saw Scar slowly bleeding to death and looked back up to where the latest nefarious Kobold plot was doubtlessly unfolding.  Then he dove down to help Scar.

He dove quickly through the treetops, dodging the tree limbs animated by his very own spell.  He made it to the ground and transformed back to human form.  As he bent to help Scar, he called out to Raven, "They're trying to stop the Bottle!  They're up there right now!"

Hearing this, Raven turned and ran back in the direction of where the tunnel was that they were flooding.  Meanwhile, Speaks used his healing wand to stop Scar from dying.  Then he used it again to bring him to consciousness.  While he did this, he felt a branch from a nearby bush snake out and grab his ankle.  He was now captured by his own spell.  He handed the pouch with the healing potions sent by Father Tomas back to Scar.  "Use these!  We've got to get back up there and stop the Kobolds!"  With that, he began to try and pull free of the branch that held him.

Scar was rather confused at this point.  He wasn't sure exactly where "there" was or what the Kobolds were doing that needed stopping.  But he gladly drank one of the offered healing potions as he started to think about escaping from the weeds and roots that held him fast.

Raven continued to trudge toward his objective as fast as his short legs would carry him.  It didn't help any that he was having to slog through the waterlogged earth saturated by the Bottle he was now trying to save.  Speaks managed to break free and ran clear of the _Entanglement_.  Soon, he too was hurrying to where the Bottle-rock had been left.

Scar felt better now that he had drank one of the potions.  He pocketed the other and strained against the roots that held his leg.  At first, the roots proved too strong but he planted his other foot and strained and with a pop the roots snapped in half.  He dashed out of the area of grappling plants and ran in pursuit of Speaks.

About that time, Speaks was passing the painfully slow Raven just as they were exiting the virtual swamp at the base of the ridge.  Speaks peered through the trees ahead but couldn’t see the dark shape any longer.  He continued to hurry forward.

Scar raced along with almost deer-like speed.  He passed Raven as though the Dwarf were standing still.  A few seconds later, he caught up with Speaks.  Rather than racing ahead like he had when the Kobolds had nearly killed him, he hung back and ran at the same pace as the Druid.

Within a few moments, they came to where the Everflowing Bottle had been set in its rock.  It was eerily quiet as they approached.  They looked at the tunnel opening to find the stone still present but in the center was a gaping, irregular hole.  An acrid smell hung in the air and they could see that the roots of the oak tree as well as the stone were deeply pitted, as though by acid.  The Everflowing Bottle was nowhere to be seen.

"DAMN IT!" yelled Speaks as he kicked the stone in frustration.  "I swear I'll kill every one of these Kobolds if it is the last thing I do!"

Finally, Raven came clanking up the side of the ridge.  He could tell from the looks of anger and frustration on the faces of his comrades that their plan to flood the mines had failed.  They quickly decided that there was nothing left for them to do up on the ridge.  Dejected and irate, they walked back to the tower.

At the base of the tower, Speaks gazed up at the closed drawbridge and said, "If one of you can't climb up there, I'm afraid we're locked out."  His voice dripped in frustration. (When he and Raven had last left the tower, Speaks had brought the drawbridge up from the inside and then flown out in eagle form.)  Scar regarded the tower for a moment and told them that he would give it a try.

Scar found that while the tower seemed sturdy enough, whoever had cut the stones hadn't gone out of his way to assure that they were terribly smooth.  He found ample handholds and managed to climb up to the top of the lower portion of the tower without difficulty.  He entered through the door in the turret and made his way down to the main floor.  There, he released the windlass and lowered the drawbridge (noting in the process that it was geared to allow someone much weaker than himself to operate it).

Raven and Speaks mounted the staircase outside and wearily began to walk across the drawbridge.  Glancing down, they noticed that some writing was carved into the inside of the drawbridge in Draconic.  Speaks read it to himself, "The mines are ours.  You may have the town.  Do not enter the mines again."  Unbelievable.  The little bastards had even gotten into the tower.

"What does it say?" asked Raven.

"It's just a bunch of insults." replied Speaks.  "They're just taunting us."

Raven spat in disgust.  "Lemme' get close enough with this hammer and I'll do more'n just taunt them!"  He stalked into the tower.

With the knowledge that the Kobolds had been in the tower, Speaks descended the stairs to the kitchen, fearing the worst.  He found Rhys' body, apparently undefiled with his hands folded over his breast.  But except for his clothes, all of his belongings were missing.

Speaks tried to reach out for the calming influence of nature.  But all he felt inside was the boiling rage of a hurricane.

*NEXT:  Loading For Bear*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Loading For Bear*
(Although I didn't know what was going to happen in the next session, this turned out to be a very apt title.

I plan to go back and edit the previous posts that deal with Scar, but I wanted to note a small change in his character.  He was originally designed to fight with a Warhammer and Spiked Gauntlet as his weapon combo.  The Lone Corndog then changed him to the Pick and Mace combo that appeared in the previous posts.  After last session, TLC wanted to change him back to the original combo.  As I allow a one session grace period for the tweaking of new characters, this was fine by me.)

After their initial period of seething died down, the three adventurers gathered in the upper level of the tower and began to devise a plan.  They could see that they were going to need to change their tactics if they were to succeed against the Kobolds.  They could not afford another failed attempt at the mines.

Their discussion lasted long into the night but when they finally bedded down, they did so with a firm plan and firm resolve (and they were sleeping on a very firm floor).

They awoke and got down to business.  Speaks and Scar departed the tower and Raven raised the drawbridge behind them.  He would be spending the balance of the day using the last of his ink to scribe a few scrolls to aid them.

Meanwhile, Speaks and Scar made their way to the burned remains of the smelting works.  There, they looked down the sump well and discovered that the water level had dropped to about ten feet below the top edge of the well.  That meant that the water was soaking into the ground, but slowly.  If they entered the mines, they would likely find a good portion of them still flooded.  Noting this, they moved up the ridge to the hole where the Everflowing Bottle had been stolen by the Kobolds.

Speaks gathered his flock of birds around him and used his magic to _Speak With_ the _Animals_.  He specifically addressed the raptors among the flock and told them that he was going to set a trap at this hole.  He expected that one or more rats were going to try to get in or out of the hole at some point and he wanted the birds to kill and eat any who did.  The carnivorous birds among the flock eagerly agreed to this arrangement but did respond that they would take flight if "anything BAD" came out of the hole.  They settled in to keep watch for stray rodents and Speaks and Scar continued with their plan for the morning.

With his spell allowing animal speech still active, Speaks called forth one of _Nature's Allies_ in the form of a huge badger.  He asked the badger to tunnel into the existing hole and widen it.  The badger dutifully began to dig and dirt sprayed out the hole behind him.  A few seconds after the creature delved deeper into the hole, Speaks and Scar heard a ruckus and saw some flashes of light come from within the hole.  They heard the badger give a growl of rage and then more commotion.  A moment later, all was silent within the hole.  Speaks nodded at Scar and the pair moved some distance away from the hole.

Speaks handed his holy symbol and his Amulet of Communication to Scar along with the spare Amulet he had been carrying.  He had Scar don one of the amulets and explained how they worked.  Speaks then focused inwardly and assumed the form of a dog.  Scar dutifully put Speaks' amulet and holy symbol back around his canine neck and the pair of them headed up the ridge.

Speaks used the superior scent smelling capabilities of his new form to locate the various tracks of the Kobolds and follow them to their source.  This led them over the top of the ridgeline and roughly halfway down the far slope to a previously unknown entrance to the mines.  Unlike the other Kobold bolt holes they had found, this one was somewhat larger, being roughly five feet wide and eight feet high.  In fact, it looked like it had been enlarged to its current size quite recently as there were small piles of loose earth dumped outside the hole.

Speaks and Scar backed away from the hole a short distance and then Speaks called forth magic to _Loosen_ the _Earth_ in and around the hole.  Chunks of loosened soil fell from the ceiling of the passage for a moment before it gave way entirely and part of the hillside slumped in, sending a dusty cloud out to settle on the ground outside.  Scar nodded at his canine companion, clearly impressed.

(Note:  Speaks just took the feat from Masters of the Wild that lets you cast spells while Wild Shaped.  He made 6th level several sessions ago, but I told him he could forestall assigning his feat until I allowed the classbooks in if he wanted to, so long as it was assigned by the time he made his next level.)

The pair then cast about for any further Kobold trails and they didn't go far before they found another.  This one led them to another small hole on the same side of the ridgeline as the larger one they had just collapsed.  The smaller hold received the same treatment and was now blocked.

They resumed their search and scoured the ridge for the rest of the morning and found no further exits.  Satisfied that they had found all they were going to find, the pair returned to where the raptors had been left on guard against the rodents.  Speaks first looked to see if they had had any success.  None of the flock looked bloated and sleepy but he couldn't be sure they hadn't caught anything.

Scar led the way down the hillside and back to the collapsed front entrance to the mine.  There, Speaks cast his _Loosen Earth_ again on the collapsed area and then cast it again.  By the time he was finished, most of the soil was fine, loose sand that sank deeper in to the collapsed passage below.  Satisfied with their day's work, Speaks and Scar headed back to the tower and settled in for the evening.  On the way, Speaks picked a fresh handful of juniper berries and used his magic to impart them with the power to provide sustenance and a minor bit of healing power.

Raven had successfully scribed a few minor scrolls for them to use the following day.  He reported no other intrusions by the Kobolds.  With that welcome news, they all enjoyed a filling, but less than totally satisfying dinner of Goodberries and a few sips of scotch.

Morning came and they readied themselves for one last attempt on the mines.  Weapons were sharpened and spells were readied as they girded themselves for battle.  Speaks used his spells to ward all of them against fire and to protect himself and Scar against lightning.  He also provided himself with some extra protection by making his skin as hard as the bark of a tree.  They lowered the drawbridge and Speaks and Raven strode confidently toward the collapsed mine entrance.  Scar closed the drawbridge behind them and climbed down the outside of the tower.  Given how slow Raven walked, Scar caught up quickly with the others.

The climbed a short way up the ridge until they were at the furthest extent of the collapsed hillside.  Speaks cast his _Speak With Animals_ spell and began to _Summon_ another dire badger.  As he was casting, he glanced further up the ridge and spotted a Kobold retreating uphill.  He couldn't alert the others until he finished his incantations.  He finished and gave a quick order to the badger to "dig down here", pointing at the loose soil of the collapse.  He then swung his arm uphill and said, "Kobold spy!  Get him!"  This was directed at Scar who took off uphill like a shot.

As Scar ran in that direction, he couldn't see who he was chasing yet.  But he knew he was faster than a Kobold and kept running.  Just as he crossed the top of the ridgeline, he spotted his quarry running through the bushes down the far side of the ridge.  Scar brought his bow up and let fly with an arrow.  The arrow shot forth with the amazing speed imparted to it from the powerful bow, which no normal man could draw.  It stuck the fleeing Kobold in the back and sent him reeling to the ground unconscious.  Scar quickly closed the distance and hefted the bleeding body of the Kobold.  He carried the creature back to where the others waited, in the process making certain that the Kobold would remain dead.

In the mean time, the dire badger Speaks had summoned was furiously digging through the soft soil of the collapsed mine shaft and had dug down into the part of the tunnel that was still intact.  Speaks' earlier loosening of the soil made this much easier than it would normally have been, but his magic had worked almost too well.  The sides of the tunnel were so loose and soft that large chunks of soil were falling down the new hole and piling up at the bottom.  Speaks gestured at the dwarf to go down the hole quickly before it collapsed in on itself.

Raven had also been busy while Scar was chasing down the Kobold.  He had lit and shuttered his lantern and then cast a _Silence_ spell on one of his arrows.  He had stepped a short distance away such that the silence didn't interfere with Speaks' magic.  Now he saw the Druid gesturing for him to go down the hole into the mine.  He grabbed his lantern and quickly clamored down the steep hole and into the mine shaft below.  He could see that the loose soil falling down the hole above was already collecting into a pile on the floor and was accumulating there at an alarming rate.

Speaks could see Scar returning down the hill and yelled for him to hurry.  Speaks then closed his eyes and embraced the Wild, transforming himself into the form of a black bear.  He made his way down the hole after the dwarf, his claws dislodging tiny avalanches of sandy soil with every step.

Scar wasted no time dawdling at the top of the hole.  He climbed down with almost reckless speed, ready to use the dead Kobold to cushion his fall if he slipped.  He arrived at the bottom where he found himself atop a mound of loose dirt that rose almost to the ceiling.  Scar fell to his belly and scrabbled down off the dirt pile until he stood with his companions at the bottom.  It was utterly quiet here but he knew that was because of the dwarf's magic.

Speaks nudged the half-orc forward with his muzzle and they proceeded forward into the darkness.  What little light came down the hole they had descended through was fading as more and more loose soil tumbled down to block the hole.  Speaks knew that the tunnel would be completely collapsed within just a few minutes.  They were about to be effectively trapped inside the mines with the Kobolds.

They moved silently into the darkness.  For Scar, this was the first time seeing the inside of these mines but his companions had drawn a rough diagram of the entrance area and they quickly arrived at the intersection he expected.  After pausing briefly to look for signs of Kobolds, they moved straight through the intersection and down the main shaft.  They had all agreed to this previously and there was no need for the debate made impossible by the _Silence_ spell.

They pressed forward and after travelling some 150 feet, they came to water.  They had know this to be a possibility and were prepared to delve into its depths if necessary.  Raven tossed his arrow of _Silence_ back up the way they had come and they could now hear each other.  They quickly decided to search the dry portion of the mines before going into the water.  Raven retrieved his arrow and they moved back up the main shaft to the intersection.

As they prepared to turn left around the corner, Scar nearly bumped into a cluster of Kobolds that were heading from that direction.  Neither group was exactly surprised to see the other, but apparently, neither knew that the other was right around the corner, either.

Scar was the first to react and he stepped forward to the first Kobold and brought his hammer down in a two fisted grip.  The result was that the Kobold literally exploded in a spray of gore (crit for over 30 points of damage).

The Kobold's compatriots, while disconcerted by this to say the least, still reacted to the threat in a way that did not entail running away screaming.  The two closest to Scar dropped the short bows they were carrying and drew their short swords as they advanced to attack.  One of the pair dealt Scar a tiny cut that seemed a pitiful revenge for the utter dismemberment he had just delivered to their fellow.

Another of the group fired his bow at Raven but the shot bounced harmlessly off the dwarf's plate mail.  From his vantage, Scar could see several more Kobolds come down a set of stairs and move to hold the passage against the party.

Raven stepped fully out into the intersection and fired his Arrow of _Silence_ at the closest Kobold who was a scant 15 feet away.  The arrow struck home but failed to wound the Kobold mortally.

Speaks With Stone had been following the others using the scenting abilities of his bear form (not too difficult a task as neither Scar nor Raven were too vigilant about bathing).  He could tell that they had moved beyond his reach now and furthermore could smell the reptilian stink of Kobold in the air.  Raven's _Silence_ arrow kept the area utterly quiet but Speaks felt sure the battle had been joined.  He momentarily pawed the ground searching for a small stone to cast a _Light_ spell on but found none (he recalled that just a couple days ago, he had fire-hosed this section of corridor clean with the Everflowing Bottle).  Instead, he cast the spell on his Amulet of Communication around his neck.  Light flooded the intersection revealing a cluster of Kobolds locked in battle with Scar.

As Speaks watched, a fearsome foursome of _Magic Missiles_ pounded the half-orc.  Scar was fully within the cross passage and his darkvision gave him a view of the group of Kobolds who had launched the bolts.  He could even tell that two of them had let fly with but a single bolt while the third, and closest, of them had fired two.  He had been told by the dwarf that the _Silence_ spell would prevent the Kobolds from doing their magic, but apparently those further up the hall were too far away to be impacted by the silent area.

Scar still had several Kobolds clustered around him so he reacted to the _Magic Missiles_ in the only way he could:  By visiting harm on those around him.  He released his hammer with his left hand and swung it with his right at the closest Kobold but the nimble creature was able to avoid the blow.  But he didn't avoid the left jab delivered by Scar's spiked-gauntlet-covered fist.  The Kobold reeled with the force of the blow.  He was still in the fight, but barely.

Clearly, the muscle-bound half-orc was the big threat and a third Kobold crowded in to attack him.  It happened that this one was the one with Raven's arrow of _Silence_ protruding from him.  As he advanced, the silence washed over Raven and Speaks.  The Kobold failed to damage Scar however.  The other pair had slightly more luck and one of them dealt a minor wound to the half-orc using his short sword.  Meanwhile, the Kobold with the short bow fired another shot at Raven and this one found a hole in the dwarf's armor.  The shot stung, but Raven had plenty of fight left in him.

In fact, he longed to wade in and attack, but the hallway was so clustered with Kobolds and Scar (swinging that big hammer around and punching with the other hand) that he felt he would do more harm than good in trying to enter the melee.  Besides, he had specific orders:  Keep Scar alive and fighting.  Unfortunately, ensconced in the _Silence_ as he was, Raven could cast none of his magic.  He drew another arrow and sent it flying into the Kobold who was firing back at him.  Best to give him something to thing about lest he turn his attentions on Scar.

Speaks could now see what was happening, but was powerless to do much about it.  Scar and the Kobolds were fighting in a fairly narrow area.  Speaks was unsure as to whether his bulky form would fit into the battle.  Besides, he had a specific plan in mind and entering the melee would only prolong the time until he could implement it.  He held his place and waited.

From where Scar could see, another Kobold came out of the stairway and into the passage.  It moved away from him and stopped some 20 feet away, turned and then turned and cast a _Web_ into the intersection.  Speaks and Raven were both captured within the sticky strands and stuck.  Scar managed to avoid the worst of the webs but was now firmly on the side of the webs with the Kobolds and separated from his companions.  As if things were not bad enough, four more _Magic Missiles_ flew from the Kobolds gathered further back in the passageway and struck him.  He knew that he was in big trouble if he didn't get some help soon.

But since he was free, and there were Kobolds within reach, he decided to pass the time until help arrived with some more killing.  He brought his hammer down but missed again.  His spiked gauntlet struck true once more however and the Kobold he had previously struck fell to the ground.

The remaining Kobolds reacted to the new situation by backing away from the edge of the web where the half-orc could still strike at them (Scar was in the outermost hex of the area affected by the _Web_).  They recovered their missile weapons and prepared to strike again.

This had an unexpected consequence however.  As the Kobold with the _Silence_ arrow still stuck in him withdrew, Speaks and Raven could hear again and would be able to cast spells.  Unfortunately, Speaks could no longer see any of the Kobolds who were concealed around the corner and obscured by the strands of web that filled the passage around him.

The group was prepared for this eventuality however and Raven reacted as he was supposed to.  He released his bow and opened the shuttered lantern hanging from his belt.  He used the flame inside to set fire to the webs around him.  The webs began to burn readily enough and thanks to the spell cast earlier by Speaks, Raven was largely immune to the heat of the fire.

The Kobolds seemed to be regrouping for a moment but Scar was peppered with _Magic Missiles_ once again.  He could also see a Kobold who seemed to be trying to convey a message to some of the others.  In the magical silence, he couldn't hear what was said but he knew it couldn't be good.

Scar needed to close with the Kobolds again but was unable to bull his way through the webs between the annoying creatures and himself.  He growled in frustration.

The Kobolds fired a few arrows at him but they missed, thanks in part to the cover afforded by the webs.  Some of the Kobolds closest to him seemed to be trying to clear a path through their group to allow something to pass.

Speaks used the strength afforded by his ursine form to rip through some of the webs that surrounded him into the area of flaming webs around Raven.  Raven drew out the greataxe that he kept strapped to his back and moved forward through the flames, waiting for the front of the web to burn through allowing him access to the Kobolds.

Scar knew that one more cluster of those _Magic Missiles_ would likely finish him off.  He strained against the webs again, but this time he managed to plow through them back to around the corner and out of harm's way.

As the fire burned ever closer to the edge of the web closest to the Kobolds, Speaks could finally see through the sticky strands and into the corridor beyond.  He called forth the power of nature and howled to the stones of the passage.  The _Earth_ began to _Loosen_ and a second later, a long section of the passageway above the Kobolds collapsed, burying most of them.

As the fire burned through the last of the webs, they could see that only two Kobolds remained on their side of the collapse.  Scar had managed to heal himself somewhat by quaffing a potion and eating a handful of Speaks' _Goodberries_ and he charged through the last of the flaming webs to attack the remaining Kobolds.  Raven also stepped up to the fore and made ready to do battle.

The Kobolds took a moment to react at this shocking turn of events.  The tables had turned on them with brutal rapidity but they kept their wits and counter attacked.  Scar wounded one of them with his warhammer and one of them returned the favor, nicking the half orc.

Raven waded in on his side and swung his greataxe but missed the surefooted Kobold.  Speaks was again crowded out of the melee and took up a rear-guard position.  He knew all too well that the slippery Kobolds had riddled the mines with small side tunnels.  Just because one approach to the party was blocked didn't mean that the Kobolds wouldn't show up elsewhere in just moments.

Scar made a clumsy set of attacks that both missed.  One of the Kobolds reacted by tumbling past the half-orc and dealing a nasty wound that nearly hamstrung the powerful warrior.  The other failed to get past Scar's guard.

Scar pivoted quickly and dealt two telling blows to the Kobold Rogue behind him and put the creature down.  Raven stepped in and swung at the other one but his attack missed again.

A few more blows were exchanged but the end result was inevitable:  Outnumbered two to one and with the bear blocking his only line of retreat, the Kobold fell to the powerful blows of the half-orc and the dwarf.

The pair of warriors stood panting in the silent corridor for a few seconds when suddenly they could hear again.  The _Silence_ spell had finally ended.  Raven immediately set about healing Scar while Speaks began digging at the collapsed area.  The edge of that staircase was only about five feet from where the collapse ended and they felt sure they had found the pathway to the main lair of the Kobolds.

*NEXT:  The End?  Or a New Beginning?*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*The End?  Or a New Beginning?*

Speaks quickly dug through the collapse and reached the edge of the staircase in a remarkably short amount of time.  The powerful arms and sharp claws of his bear form were well suited to moving the loose earth of the collapse.

Once he had opened a hole big enough for each of them to pass through, Speaks backed out of the hole and let Scar and Raven proceed through the hole before him.  The half-orc and dwarf mounted the stairs and came to a landing where the stairs turned 90 degrees to the left.  As they stepped onto the landing, they noticed that a fairly bright light filled the hallway they could see atop the second flight of stairs.

Scar approached the top of the stairs cautiously and saw that the hallway into which the stairs emptied was blocked to the right by a pair of _Flaming Spheres_.  He called down the stairs to Speaks and asked him if those were the same kind of spheres the he could conjure.

The bear rolled his eyes.  He had explained before that he could understand them while in animal form but he was incapable of human speech.  Raven and Scar just didn't seem to get it.  He climbed further up the stairs to where he could see the spheres burning in the hallway.  They appeared to be identical to those he himself could cast, but there was only one way to be sure.  He stepped into the hallway, already wincing from the barrage of _Magic Missiles_ he knew would be coming at him.

But no missiles flew out of the darkness.  Instead, there came a voice.  It was high pitched and feminine.  Speaks recognized it as that of the female Kobold who appeared to be the leader of their swarm.  The voice said, "Stop there, I wish to talk to you."

Scar and Raven both moved into the hallway alongside Speaks.  They could both hear the voice, but neither spoke the language.

Speaks realized that if anyone was going to do the talking, it would have to be him so he concentrated and reverted to human form.  He spoke first to Scar and Raven.  "They want to talk."  Scar hefted his warhammer and muttered something about "a conversation they will remember".

Speaks addressed the Kobold who remained hidden in the darkness ahead.  "What is it you have to say."  As he spoke, one of the _Flaming Spheres_ winked out followed shortly by the other.

Out of the darkness, the voice of the Kobold came again, "First, come no closer.  I can easily escape you if you pursue me.  Your magic has proved stronger than mine.  I wish to negotiate for our withdrawal from the mines."

"Why should we let you leave with your skins after the way you attacked us," spoke Speaks.

The Kobold had anticipated this question and quickly responded, "You probably have the power to destroy us entirely.  I do not deny that.  But we will make it very hard and costly for you.  Our tunnels range far through this ridge and will offer difficulties for warriors as large as yourselves.  We still have some fight left and more of you may die if you make the attempt to wipe us out.  I do not wish to kill any more of you and I do not wish any more of my people to die.  I will gladly give up the possession of these mines and withdraw if you will spare our lives.

Additionally, I have certain information that may be of great value to you.  I am the only one among my tribe who knows this information and if I die, I take it with me."

Speaks considered all of this for a moment.  He thought back on his memories of Krase and Rhys and the retribution that he owed them.  But then he thought about the slaughter of the Gnoll women and children when he had sought revenge for Krase's death.  Did he really want to go through that again with the Kobolds?  And he looked at his new companions.  Would his quest for vengeance cost their lives in the end?  He decided there and then that the bloodshed had gone on too long.  "We will accept your withdrawal with certain conditions.  First, we demand the return of the possessions you have stolen from our fallen comrades."

"Of course.  I don't have them with me but I can have them retrieved.  What else do you require."

Speaks thought for a moment.  Raven asked, "What's going on?"  Speaks turned around to see the dwarf looking at him expectantly.  Scar had moved up the passage in the opposite direction, certain (hoping even) that an ambush was in the offing.  "They are going to abandon the mines and I'm telling them the conditions."  Raven was clearly of the opinion that the only good Kobold was a dead one (especially when they hurl lightning bolts) but he didn't interfere with Speaks' negotiations.

Speaks answered the Kobold with, "We require hostages from your tribe to assure your good faith."

After a pause, the Kobold answered, "How many hostages and for how long."

Speaks replied, "Three hostages to be given over to the Church of St. Cuthbert in Glynden to remain indefinitely."

"You speak of prisoners, not hostages.  I cannot agree to that condition.  I would agree to you retaining a few hostages until we have had time to leave the area and settle elsewhere.

Speaks thought about his earlier condition and reconsidered.  He wasn't sure that having several Kobold prisoners within the walls of Glynden was going to be popular with the townsfolk either.  Perhaps the Kobold had the better idea here.  "Instead of the three hostages I spoke of before, we want you as a hostage while your people leave the area."

After another lengthy pause the Kobold replied, "And I have your word that I will not be harmed while I'm your captive?"

"We know of your powers and it may be necessary to keep you bound and gagged at times to prevent your using magic.  But we will not harm you or cause you undue discomfort."

"And you promise to release me after a suitable relocation period?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"A month," said Speaks.

"That is probably more time than my people require.  But I will agree to those terms.  Are we agreed?"

Speaks glanced at Raven.  "Yes."

"Excellent.  Now, about the information that I have…"

Speaks had somewhat lost track of that issue during the rapid negotiations.  "Um, yes.  What is that information?"

"Since it will take less time than a month for my people to move to a new location, I will trade you this information in exchange for you reducing my time as a captive."  The Kobold spoke in such a casual way that it almost lulled one into thinking that she and Speaks were old friends.  (Note:  Kobold Sorceresses have much better Charisma's than grumpy Druids who live in the woods and don't get laid a lot.)

Speaks responded, "I can't promise that until I know what the information is."

The Kobold replied, "I will reveal the nature of the information and you can tell me if you think it might be worth reducing my time as your captive.  If so, I will reveal the complete information when you release me."

"Agreed."

"Very well, when the miners fled the mines when the town was sacked by the Gnolls, they hid the silver bars that waited in the smelting works.  I found them and moved them to a new location.

Also, I am aware of the nature of the threat that has the Gnolls fleeing the Darkwood."

Speaks replied immediately, "Those are both pieces of information that I would be interested in.  I will reduce your time in captivity by one week for each of them."

"I am to be your captive for two weeks then?"

"Yes."

"Agreed."

Speaks felt that he had been a bit generous and wanted to toughen his stance a bit, "We demand that you return the items taken from our friends, as well as the magical bottle immediately.  We will wait here."

The Kobold paused for a moment.  "The items we took from your friends I can retrieve now.  I do not have the Bottle of Water.  It is somewhere to the south."

"What do you mean?" asked Speaks.

"When we removed it from the stone you put it in, none of us could control it.  I had the dragon fly south with it to place it beyond your reach," the Kobold revealed timidly.

"Must we fight the dragon for it then?" Speaks asked.

"No.  The dragon is no longer there.  Look for a small new river to the south of here and you will find it I'm sure.  It produces a lot of water."

"Very well.  Now bring us back our friends things."

"I shall do so immediately."  With that, the Kobold departed.

That left Speaks to explain the arrangement to his companions.  Both seemed to feel that the Druid had let the Kobolds off easy.  But Raven spoke up to say, "Krase and Rhys were your friends and not mine.  If you feel that the Kobolds have paid their debt in blood, I leave that decision to you."  The group settled in and waited for nearly an hour before the Kobold reappeared.

She called out of the darkness, "I have gathered the items we took from your friends."

Speaks responded imperiously, trying to sound authoritative, "Bring them forth and know that we will be on guard for any treachery."

"Well, I can't carry them all at once.  I'm only a Kobold, you know.  I'll bring them a few at a time if that's ok."  The Kobold sounded apologetic but didn't stray over the border into obsequious.

"Oh.  Of course, just bring what you can carry.  You can go back for the rest."

The Kobold appeared for the first time during the negotiations and lugged Krase's Mithral Breastplate over her shoulder while she dragged Rhys' Mithral Chain Shirt with the other hand.  She approached the group with caution and deposited the armor a few feet in front of Speaks.  Then she scurried back into the darkness of the mine shaft and returned with several more trips until the party members were satisfied that she had returned all of Krase and Rhys' loot.

The party collected the items and had the diminutive Kobold leader walk between Scar and Raven who stood ready to give her a sound drubbing with their warhammers at the slightest hint of sorcery.  They returned back to the main entrance to the mines and found the tunnel dug by Speaks' badger completely collapsed.  They clearly wouldn't be leaving that way, at least until Speaks had time to prepare another spell to _Summon_ another giant badger.

The only other exit to the mines that they knew remained unblocked was the tunnel further up the ridgeline where Speaks' raptors waited to prey on the unsuspecting rat familiars the Kobold Sorcerers seemed to favor.  They asked their captive about this exit and if it would be accessible to the party.

The Kobold replied, "Most certainly, so long as you don't mind crawling.  Part of that tunnel caved in when you used the magic bottle to try and flood us out.  But we cleared that out a day or so ago.  I can take you there.  Are you certain that you feel comfortable being in such a confined space with me?  I would have a distinct advantage if I chose that moment to betray you.  You can bind my hands and gag me if you like."

Speaks was taken aback by the Kobold's candor.  "We won't bind you.  We have warded ourselves against your magic and I intend to trust you so long as you remain trustworthy.  But we will offer you no second chance.  If you betray us, you and your people will pay dearly for it.  Remember that."

"Certainly.  I just want you to feel at ease around me.  It won't do to have you jumpy if we are to spend the next two weeks together.  Oh, and since we'll be spending so much time together, my name is Frakir.  I'll show you where that exit is now."

"Lead on, Frakir."  With that, the group ascended to the third and top level of the mines.  From there, they took a small, Kobold-sized tunnel which climbed further until it opened up on the northern side of the ridgeline under the large oak tree.  All were relieved to have survived to see the light of day again.  They marched back to the Tower where Frakir was put under guard in the lowest basement and the party drank a toast to their success.

In the afternoon, Speaks left the Tower and moved off into the woods to contemplate and commune with nature.  When he was first taken into the druidic order, he had seen some wondrous things done with the power of nature.  He hadn't imagined that some day he would be capable of many of the same powers.  His link with nature was stronger than ever though and he was starting to get an idea of something that he could do with that power.

The following morning, he spent longer than usual in his communion with nature.  He returned to the Tower at mid-morning and descended to the kitchen level where Rhys' body had been kept since it was brought back from the mine.  Speaks approached his dead friend and, despite the foul smell the body was starting to emit, he tenderly washed the corpse with water and wine.

The then reached out for his connection to nature and called forth as much power as he could hold.  He felt the power fill him to his limit and a pale green nimbus surrounded the Druid.  He then placed his hands upon Rhys and moved them up and down the length of his body, pouring this energy of life into the young man.  The nimbus began to encompass both of them and then to linger more strongly on Rhys.  This halo of golden green energy began to completely suffuse Rhys' body until it became a featureless form of glowing energy.

Speaks could tell that his friend was being renewed and refilled with the energy of light.  But he also knew that the living power of nature was the very essence of dynamism and change.  He could see the energy form of Rhys altered shape, ever so slightly.  Then the halo of green light began to weaken and dissipate in the way that the light of a sunset fades to leave the night stars visible in the sky.

When the light faded, there, where a few minutes before had lay the lifeless human body of Rhys, now, there was the living, breathing body of an Elf.  The fine, handsome features of the Elf's face twitched and then his large, pale blue eyes flickered open.

"What happened?"

The voice had the smooth and lilting quality of the fey, but the indignant inflection was pure Rhys.  Speaks tried to answer but his voice caught in his throat as tears formed in the corners of his eyes.  His friend was alive.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking*

The party spent the following days resting their minds, bodies and souls from the previous weeks of rigorous combat.  Frakir turned out to be a model prisoner.  She and Rhys even engaged in several meaningful conversations about the art of Sorcery.

Speaks and Raven spent a good deal of their time in meditation and communion with their respective faiths (this time of communion is required in order for them to add new spells from the class books to their spell lists).  During the daytime, most of the guard duty fell to Rhys and Scar.  But at night, Rhys and Scar, neither of whom needed as much sleep as the others, spent a good deal of time digging through the rubble of the collapsed mine entrance in search of the body of Tavis, Rhys’ deceased familiar.

Unfortunately, their efforts seemed in vain.  The body of Rhys’ closest companion remained unrecovered.  Rhys erected a small cairn of stones near the tower in her memory and did the best he could to fill the empty place left by her absence.

As Rhys and Scar explored the mines, they made an ironic discovery.  The “war wagons” so carefully crafted by Speaks and Raven and so easily stolen by the Kobolds were safely stowed down one of the side shafts on the lowest mine level.  Scar looked askance at the odd contraptions but Rhys could scarcely stop laughing long enough to explain them to him.  They were simply a bizarre reminder of an earlier existence that he would not regain.  Just a few days ago, but altogether a different lifetime.

Rhys and Scar were not the only ones to make interesting discoveries.  During one of his walks among the forest north of Aquae Sulis, Speaks discovered a number of crude warnings gouged into large trees.  These had apparently been left by the Gnolls before they fled.  They warned of the “Wizards” who now protected the once-abandoned village and urged any Gnolls who followed to give it a wide berth to the west.  It seemed that it would be some time before they need worry about the Gnolls, so long as they heeded the warnings left by their predecessors.

At last, the two weeks of Frakir’s required captivity had passed and she was brought out of the tower basement to be set free.  If the party had not grown exactly fond of the reptilian Sorceress, they could at least respect the fact that she had kept her word and made no attempt to escape.  When the time came for her to depart, Speaks gave her the mask he sometimes wore when forced to be around the crowds of people who made him uncomfortable.  “Take this that you may recall the peaceful days we have enjoyed here together.  So long as you cause no harm to me and the lands I protect, you may consider me a friend.”

Frakir sheepishly accepted the gift and spoke a few arcane phrases.  From her shoulders sprouted large bat-like wings.  Then she addressed the gathered party.  “You have kept your end of the bargain and now I shall keep mine.  You will find the silver bars buried under the foundation of the smelting works.  Dig along the side facing the road and you will find them.  The miners had thrown the bars down the sump well and they remained there until we found them after moving into the mines.  We recovered them but they were heavy and we did not wish to move them further than we had to.  So we buried them just a few feet away from where we hauled them out of the well.”

“As for what goes on in the Darkwood, I cannot say precisely.  I only know what was told to me by the Gnolls.  They claim that the northern reaches of the forest are the home of the walking dead.  It has always been such, but lately, these dead have roamed further south in the forest and in some cases, entire Gnoll villages have been found without a soul in sight.  In the last year, they have begun to encounter living dead of their own kind and this terrifies them.  I have no love for the Gnolls after the harsh treatment my kind has seen at their hands but this new power in the Darkwood is the enemy of all who live and breathe.  I shall not return there and I urge you to stay clear and be on guard against the Gnolls who will undoubtedly be coming this way in larger and larger numbers as they find they cannot resist the unlife.”

With that, Frakir clasped the mask to her chest and flapped her green-black wings.  Slowly, almost awkwardly, she climbed into the air and took flight to the south.  In just a few moments, she disappeared beyond the ridge.

The party wasted no time in gathering a few digging tools and heading to the burned out ruin of the smelting works.  As they went, they spoke uneasily about the tidings delivered by Frakir and what it meant to them and the people of Glynden.  None had a firm answer and they soon lost themselves in the steady and mindless toil of digging.

It didn’t take long to locate the somewhat softer patch of earth along the side of the foundation facing the path leading to the mine.  After removing just a couple of feet of earth, a slightly tarnished brick fell to the ground in front of them.  Scar roughly polished it against the leg of his breeches and beneath the dirt and tarnish, the gleam of pure silver shone through.  They all grinned and fell into the work of removing the silver bullion with gusto.  All told, they pulled more than 450 silver bars from under the foundation, each weighing roughly 5 pounds.

They now cast about for a way to transport this wealth back to Glynden.  They quickly latched onto the idea of using the mine carts/war wagons for this purpose.  They were able to haul the wagons out of the hole they had dug above the mine entrance with main strength.  But they soon found that the small and narrow wheels of the mine carts were far better suited to rolling on hard stone and packed earth than the soft ground outside the mines, especially with half a ton of silver bars piled inside.

Speaks got to work on this problem right away.  Using his magic, he was able to mold larger and wider wooden wheels to the existing wheels.  The carts weren’t pretty, but they would last them to Glynden.

They gathered the remainder of their posessions and bade farewell to the tower.  After a short time of painstakingly pushing the wagons over the rough and overgrown road between Glynden and Aquae Sulis, Speaks swallowed his pride and transformed himself into a pony.  They fashioned a makeshift yoke and hitched the Druid to the carts.  After that they made better time and the jokes about Speaks “making an ass out of himself” died down.  Eventually.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 2: Homecoming*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 2: Homecoming*

The journey back to Glynden moved at a good pace considering how heavy their load was.  All of them seemed anxious to get home didn’t mind travelling into the evening a bit.  The days grew longer as winter released its icy grip on the northlands and that too allowed a bit more daylight to travel in.  

The group mostly journeyed in silence.  This was unsurprising considering that the majority of them were somewhat loners to begin with.  Rhys was the only one of the bunch who was generally more gregarious.  But he too remained quiet and pensive, spending his long waking hours deep in thought about his new form and what impact it was to have on his life.

In the evenings, all were tired and the conversations were short and mostly concerning mundane details such as what they would eat (Speaks had no trouble providing them sustenance in the form of Goodberries but the Dwarf especially wanted something a bit more substantial to eat).  None of the group had the energy or inclination to hare off trying to hunt, so they resolved to push on as quickly as possible in order that they might get back to Glynden (and a nice juicy steak) as soon as possible.

When the conversation did stray from the topic of dinner (or lack thereof), it mostly came to rest on the fate of the treasure they carried.  Further examination of the silver bars had revealed that all were stamped with a stylized “AS” mark.  This was a clear indication that they had been mined and minted at the Aquae Sulis smelting works by those who dwelled there before they were killed or put to flight by the Gnolls and Barbarians.

What was not so clear was what implications this had for the further dispensation of the bars.  Raven was firmly of the belief that the bars should be turned over to the Glynden Council to determine their rightful ownership.  Speaks felt on the other hand that had the party not paid in blood for them, the bars would have remained buried beneath the smelting works for who knows how long.  The town was gaining the use of the mine once again and that should be plenty enough treasure to satisfy them.

Having had some small amount of contact with the miners of Glynden, Rhys could say for certain that the bars would have been considered property of the mine had they been rescued just a few short weeks or months after the town fell.   But six years had passed since the conquering of Aquae Sulis and he was far from certain as to what attitude the town would hold about them now.  Scar had little opinion on the matter for the time being.  Ultimately it was determined that the bars would be handed over to the Council and they would decide the matter.

As the afternoon grew late on the third day of their trek, they began to see familiar landmarks and knew that they would make it to town by dark.  Rhys seemed more uneasy than ever and when they stopped for a brief rest, he spoke to Speaks.  He explained that he still wasn’t sure how his family and friends (especially Isabeau) would react to his new form.  He wanted a bit more time to mull things over before he was confronted with that meeting and asked if he could camp out at Speaks’ wolf cave outside town.  Speaks agreed to this and Rhys parted with the company.  No one noted that he walked with a slight limp, almost as though a five pound silver bar was tucked down his pants leg.

An hour later, they rolled their carts up to the gates of Glynden just as the bell sounded.  They passed through the gate and into the street and courtyard beyond.  A crowd began to gather immediately as people recognized Speaks With Stone (after he returned to human form from that of a pony).  The muttering of the crowd became somewhat of a concerned rumble as it started to be noted who his companions were and who was missing.  

Kyndalyn soon approached and spoke to the party.  He asked about Krase and Rhys.  With a voice heavy with remorse, Speaks briefly explained that Krase hadn’t made it and that Rhys was “alive, but having some difficulties at the moment that make him reluctant to return to town”.

At precisely that moment, Krase’s father pushed through the crowd to where the group stood.  “Where’s Krase?  Where is my son?”  His voice already quivered with worry and anticipation of the bad news.

Speaks, feeling more uncomfortable than ever at having to be the spokesperson for the group, quietly replied, “He died a heroic death, fighting the Gnolls in Aquae Sulis.  He died fighting their greatest champion.”

Krase’s father stood dumbstruck at the news, confused, angry and silent.  Speaks held forth a bundle of things from which protruded the twin hilts of Krase’s short swords and Hawk’s Wrath, the finely crafted bow given to Krase by the Allmani in recognition of his dutiful service during the Winter War.  Krase’s father accepted the bundle numbly.  The crowd had grown quiet and the sound of Krase’s mother, weeping could plainly be heard.

That sound seemed to snap Krase’s father from his catatonic stare.  “Damn that father of mine and his bloody Dwarven friend!  Damn those foolish tales of adventure they put in his head!  Why couldn’t he just stay in town and learn a trade instead of poking around the Western Wilds where he was bound to be killed someday!  Well, that day has come.  Now his mother and I won’t have to lie awake at night wondering if he’s coming home.  Because he isn’t.  Ever.”  With that, the man turned his back on the party.  He collected his wife from the group of women who had gathered to support her.  Together, they staggered back to the tannery, forever wounded.

There were more rumblings from the crowd but the incident with Krase’s father had left many of them without words.  They began to slowly scatter to spread the news:  Glynden’s greatest hero since Kyndalyn the Elder and Farinmail was dead.

Kyndalyn the Younger returned his attention to Speaks.  “Perhaps it would be best if I gather the Council and you can speak to all of us at once.  I’ll send riders to the Castellans to summon them.  We’ll meet tonight at Nan’s if that is all right with you.”

Speaks responded, “It is.  We also…bring this silver.  We are unsure if it should belong to us or to the town or to the previous miners of Aquae Sulis.  We will leave it to the Council to decide.”

Kyndalyn eyed the pair of carts laden with silver bars.  “I’ll put it under guard until the Council meets with you, yes?”

Speaks nodded his head in assent.  Kyndalyn quickly detailed a handful of guards to roll the carts out of the marketplace and over to the barracks.

As the crowd dispersed, the group could now see that the market, usually vacant this time of year, contained several wagons and tents.  Speaks immediately recognized the lead wagon as belonging to the jovial elven merchant, Tadius Silvanus.  In years prior, Tadius had always traveled with only one wagon but apparently he had decided to expand his operation.

Accompanying the larger number of wagons were they type of rugged men who typically hired themselves out as guards on the dangerous road from Oar.  As Speaks gaze swept across the group of mercenaries, an approaching female figure caught his eye and brought a smile to his lips.

"Hello big brother!  Your beard is so long, I barely recognized you!" spoke the young woman.

"Tarsheeva!  It is so good to see you!"  Speaks embraced his little sister.  It had been years since he had seen her back in Oar.  "Are you one of the guards Tadius has hired to guard his new train of wagons?"

"One of the guards?  Yes!  I'm the captain of these guards!" Tarsheeva spoke with pride.

"Captain?  You've done well for yourself, little sister!"

"Not so little as I once was," replied Tarsheeva.  And she spoke the truth.  As they embraced, Speaks could tell that his once slight and wiry sister had grown into a strong young warrior.  The broadsword hanging at her belt wasn't fancy but the pommel had plenty of the scratches that come from much practice and use.
Speaks briefly introduced Tarsheeva to his companions and then they decided to part ways for a few hours until their scheduled meeting with the Council at Nan's.  Scar returned to the abbey of St. Cuthbert to check in with Father Tomas.  Raven went to Nan's and secured a room for himself for the next couple of weeks.

Speaks and Tarsheeva spent some time getting reacquainted.  They sat on the tail of one of Tadius' wagons and caught up on the last few years.  Tarsheeva had gone from being one of the Temple Guard (Speaks' and Tarsheeva's mother is a priestess of some standing in the Church of Obad'Hai) to becoming a caravan guard for the wagon trains that ran between Oar and the small towns that dotted the northern coast of the Crescent Sea.  She had even spent some time as a merchant marine, serving on a trade ship between Oar and Emor.  It was then that she assembled the handful of men that formed the core of her mercenary group of caravan guards.  Her natural magnetism and cool head under stress made her their improbable choice as leader.

As her group began looking for a contract with one of the local merchants in Oar, she caught wind of Tadius who was seeking a group to guard his wagons on the road to Glynden.  He was paying abnormally well so she jumped at the chance to take the contract, especially since it would take her to Glynden where her big brother was currently living.

Tarsheeva also brought greetings from their mother.  As Tarsheeva had been leaving Oar, their mother had seemed edgy and stressed.  She had mentioned something about "foul portents" or "ill omens" and warned Tarsheeva to be extremely careful on her trip to the Northlands.

(Speaks' mother had wanted him to follow in her footsteps within the Church of Obad'Hai when he was young.  His affinity for nature was obvious even then.  But Speaks [his name was Quintus back then] was still traumatized by the death of his father at the hands of some mysterious "bloodshadows" and he didn't always get along well with strangers.  His mother had him tested and admitted to the order of Druids who helped him develop his link with nature in a less organized structure than the Church.)

As they spoke, Tadius appeared and cheerfully greeted Speaks.  He had already heard the rumors about the death of Krase and offered his condolences.  Speaks thanked him and then asked if he would mind paying a visit out to his place in the woods to speak to Rhys.  He revealed little to Tadius except for the fact that he thought that Rhys could use Tadius' wisdom at the moment.  Tadius gladly agreed and it was decided that both he and Tarsheeva would come with Speaks back to his woodland home that evening after the meeting with the council.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 3: Rumblings*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 3: Rumblings*

The late afternoon saw the arrival of the heads of the various castellans who sat upon the Glynden Council.  Nan's was once again cleared of the regular townsfolk and the party (sans Rhys) was brought inside to speak about what had transpired at Aquae Sulis.

The events were related factually without embellishment with Speaks doing most of the talking (a role he did not desire in the least).  The retelling lacked any of the flair that had accompanied Rhys' tales about the Winter War and, as it included the deaths of both Krase and Rhys was rather somber in any event.  Council members interrupted occasionally to ask for clarifications.

Boss Brathwaite appeared especially incredulous at the tales of how troublesome the Kobolds had proved to be.  As a long time miner, he was vaguely familiar with tales of the usually pathetic creatures but had never heard of them using magic to such a large degree.  Nonetheless, he did not dispute the story as told.

Although Rhys had asked Speaks to keep the details of his recent reincarnation as an elf to himself, Speaks was never a good liar.  Unable to concoct some kind of prevarication in the retelling of their tale, he simply stated what had actually happened to Rhys.  This caused many a shocked look around the table.  All of the Councilors had heard tales of people being brought back from the dead, but it had never occurred to them that Speaks might have this capability.  This immediately sparked questions of why he hadn't done the same thing for Krase.  Speaks replied that Krase was simply too far gone for him to aid with his magic.  The Councilors didn't really understand that explanation, but there was a lot about the Druid that they didn't really understand so they let the matter drop.

Speaks concluded with the information revealed by Frakir that some kind of walking dead were driving the Gnolls out of the Darkwood.  There was some concern about this among the Council, but given how the Gnolls had been brutally put to flight by the Druid, they felt there was little to fear from them.  As for the "walking dead", the Darkwood had always been a place of foreboding and evil and they saw little reason to be too worried about such distant events.  The walls of Glynden had always held and with her two main foes (the barbarians and the Gnolls) apparently out of the picture, the future looked bright indeed.

Just as the meeting seemed about to conclude, Scar intoned deeply, "What about the money?"

Eyebrows around the table raised and regarded the half-orc.

"The silver bars.  Who gets them?" Scar reiterated.

Nacalius and Jucadius both quickly asserted that the silver ingots were the property of the mine of Aquae Sulis (a claim supported by the A.S. stamp on each bar of silver) and as such should transfer to the town of Glynden who had absorbed the people who previously owned it.  Boss Brathwaite somewhat supported this argument, offering that ownership belonged to the individuals and families that had fled Aquae Sulis and its mines when the Gnolls invaded.

Kyndalyn, Father Tomas, Cassuvius and Octorus both held any opinions to themselves for the moment.  Speaks spoke up on behalf of the party and asserted that they had a claim on the silver since it would never have been found and returned had they not cleared Aquae Sulis of the Gnolls, defeated the Kobolds and cajoled the location of the silver from the Kobold leader.  He also mentioned that the town could now reoccupy the town and the mines, again, thanks to the party, and that the rich veins of silver in the mine would soon yield far more wealth than the silver ingots they had brought back to town.

Cassuvius allowed that this was a fair point for consideration.  Nacalius and Jucadius both went back on the attack at that point and made some veiled accusations of Speaks' greed.  He was already getting a portion of the profits from the mines as reward for his service during the Winter War and he was not due the property that had come from the sweat and blood of the townsfolk of Aquae Sulis who now resided in Glynden.  They also made some remarks that tried to cast suspicion on the fact that Rhys and Krase had not returned intact from the expedition.

At this, Speaks grew angry and flatly told the Council that it might be ill advised to question the motives of those who had just defeated their enemies for them.  He strongly implied that if Glynden was too weak to defeat the Gnolls and Kobolds, but the party was not, that might indicate that the party was strong enough to defy the will of the Glynden Council.

Seeing that these thinly veiled threats were right on the verge of getting out of hand, Kyndalyn called a hasty end to the meeting and informed the party that the Council would further discuss the dispensation of the silver bars and inform them of their decision the following day.  The party was shown the door of the tavern and the three of them left and parted ways within moments.

Scar returned to the Abbey of St. Cutbert and got some leftover dinner.  Raven sought out Jaffray, the local blacksmith and made arrangements to share his forge for the next several days for a fee.  Speaks returned to the market where he, Tadius and Tarsheeva departed to Speaks home a couple miles northwest of town.

There, he and Tarsheeva spent some more time talking while Tadius and Rhys took a walk in the woods.  Rhys had a lot of questions about being an elf and Tadius had many answers.

Tadius was sympathetic to his predicament.  He indicated that Rhys would probably not fit in well with the elves since he lacked any of their customs, history or even language.  But on the other hand, he was unlikely to fit in easily with the folk of the northlands either.  With the possible exception of Tadius, almost none of them had ever even seen an elf.  Tadius told Rhys that there was a reason for this and proceeded to tell him a sad tale known to few:

(This is cut almost verbatim from the e-mail that I sent Rhys' player so forgive me if it wanders in and out of tense a bit)

_A long time ago (for the humans, not the elves) before the founding of Glynden, the "Darkwood" (then called the Greatwood) was inhabited largely by elves.  Then, about 300 years ago, the Empire began to tighten its grip around the northern povinces.  The barbarians who lived in the lands south of the forest came under attack by the legions.  Many were killed or taken as slaves.

The elves figured that, the way things were going, they would be next (Tadius concedes that given the sizable population of elves in Sythia [then a portion of the Empire] this probably wouldn't have happened due to political pressures.).  So the elves entered the war on the side of the barbarians.

The legions were good at what they did (which was kill and capture light fighting, loosely organized troops like the barbarians and elves) and they were backed up by the highly organized and well trained Imperial Magi attached to the legions.  (Uncle Claudius would later become one such mage although he wasn't born until hundreds of years later.)  In response, the elves were pressed to use thier own magics and to seek more powerful ways of using that magic.

As inevitably happens whenever anyone seeks powerful magic quickly, they ran afoul of dark forces (the precise nature of these forces is unknown, largely because nobody really wants to talk about it and a lot of the elves who do know are dead) who seemed to offer a great deal of power and offer it quickly.  Suddenly, most of the powerful spellcasters of the elves had been corrupted by these evil forces and cast aside their war against the Empire, turning on their brothers.  To call this civil war bitter and bloody would be a considerable understatement.  Large sections of the Greatwood were devastated by the magics unleashed.

This, of course left the Imperial  Legions free reign south of the forest and now the barbarians couldn't even retreat back into the forest for fear of being caught up in the elven war (knowing what Tadius knows now about the nature of the barbarians and their "totem ties" to the land, he thinks they wouldn't have retreated into the forest anyway).  The end result is well known:  The barbarians east of the Fodor were wiped out, most having been killed or taken into slavery and the remainder were intermarried with the imperials who settled the region.  As you know, they would later get revenge on the Empire during the Slave Wars when they escaped, sacked the northern coast of the Empire and escaped to the north where they formed the core of the Corritani Tribe.

As far as the elven war goes, a stop was put to it eventually.  Almost the entirety of both sides were wiped out when the little known Cult of Bane intervened (for unknown reasons) and the fight got really ugly.  The corrupt elves were driven from the Greatwood (then starting to be called "The Darkwood") and the surviving uncorrupted elves retreated to the south and were given refuge in Sythia.  Most of them died quickly after that from the despondency of separation from their homeland and the sadness of knowing that their beloved wood had become a place of horror and devastation.  Very few of them remain alive today and almost all of them are hermits waiting to die.

Not long after the elven civil war, The Cult of Bane was uncovered as the evil horror that it was and was eradicated throughout the Empire by a ruthless crusade of the holy warriors of St. Cuthbert and Pelor.  In the rugged northlands, the Druids were instrumental in purging the Cult from the less civilized areas which helped cement the druidic worship of "nature" as a legitimate faith back in the Empire.  That of course culminated in the death of Bane himself, burned out of existence by the holy fire of Pelor (Tadius mentions this like everybody knows it, but Rhys had never heard of Bane before)._

All in all, a fairly nasty time in the history of the world.  Thankfully, Tadius himself wasn't even born until a hundred years after this all happened.  But leave it to the elves and their long lives and memories to still shy away from the northlands after so many years have gone by.  Apparently, most of the elves of Sythia still think that the northlands are somehow "cursed" as far as elves are concerned.  That is what puts Tadius in the position of being one of the only elves most of the folk of Glynden ever see.

In short, Rhys was in a bit of a bind. Tadius assured him that, although they were slow to accept him at first, the folk of Glynden now find nothing odd about his "elvenness".  If Rhys gave them time (and Tadius assured him that he had plenty of that), they would likely come around eventually.  In the mean time, Tadius was more than happy to help him out however he could.  He even offered for Rhys to join his caravan and travel with him if he liked.

The following day, the group gathered in town for a memorial service to be held in Krase's honor at the Church of St. Cuthbert.  When the party arrived, Kyndalyn intercepted them and apologetically explained that the Council had decided that the silver bars were the rightful property of those who used to own the mine.  The party was going to be given a quarter of the bars as a "finders fee" for their recovery.  It was quickly decide that they would split the bars five ways and give an equal share to Krase's family.  With that, they entered the Abbey for the memorial service.

The news of Krase's death hit the town very hard as he was the one among the "Heroes of the Winter War" whom the townsfolk most identified with.  The service was solemn and moving for all and concluded with the choir singing a haunting rendition of _Celestials Bear Me Away_.

As people drifted away from the ceremony, Krase's father approached the group.  He quietly apologized for his outburst the previous day and told them that he wanted them to keep the magical sword and mithral armor Krase had worn.  As a tanner and leatherworker, he had no need of such things and wanted the party to keep them to do with as they saw fit.  The party in turn handed over the silver bars that amounted to Krase's share of the treasure.

(Actually, they gave a bit more than his fair share - when they divided the bars up, there was an uneven remainder and they donated this to Krase's parents.  For the record, each party member got approximately 550 GP worth of silver bars.  They also arranged to sell Heartneedle and the mithral breastplate to Tadius who thought he could get a decent price for them when he ventured to the barbarian lands later in the summer.).

The next several days saw much activity for the party.  Raven was hard at work at the forge enchanting several of the groups assorted weapons and armor.  Father Tomas had Scar going around town making purchases for the expedition that would venture to reoccupy Aquae Sulis.  A great deal of material was going to be needed for this and apparently, some of the silver bars were being used to fund this expedition.

Rhys did venture into town and found that, as expected, people had a hard time relating to him in a different skin.  His parents made their best effort at welcoming him back but they were clearly unsure of how to handle him.  Isabeau was also having a very hard time making the adjustment, not only to relating to Rhys, but also the attention among the other townsfolk that it caused.

Oddly, it was those who knew him least that related the best to Rhys.  He spent most of his time talking to Tadius and Tarsheeva.  During this time, he arranged to purchase a magic item from Tadius that he felt could solve many of his problems.  It was a hat that allowed the wearer to assume any appearance he desired.  But once he had it, he felt even less comfortable assuming his original form around friends and family.  It may have been his original form, but it was no longer his natural one.

Speaks spent most of his time at his home in the wolf cave outside Glynden.  He continued to commune with nature daily and awaken new powers within himself.  But he also began to experience an odd sensation.  He kept thinking that he saw something out of the corner of his eye but when he turned, there was nothing there.  He spoke with the wolves and various other animals around him but all professed to seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

In Speaks' absence from town, rumors began to circulate.  Suspicions began to crop up about him.  No accusations were made outwardly, but the fact that the Druid had been the only one of the three heroes to return intact from Aquae Sulis did not sit well with some of the townspeople.  Jucadius and Nacalius were clearly fanning the flames of these rumors, claiming that Speaks threatened the Council with violence if not given a share of the silver bars the party recovered.  Scar and Raven both caught wind of these rumblings, but neither was well connected enough or skilled in argument to counter any of these accusations.

(The overall "Charisma Deficit" of the party became painfully apparent at this point.  It underscored how much they had relied on Rhys to be their mouthpiece in previous interactions.  But now he has become almost as much of a hermit as Speaks has.)

One night, Speaks had a disturbing dream.  In it, Raven was standing at a forge.  Speaks willingly but regretfully handed his stoneworking tools to Raven who cast them into the coals.  As Speaks watched, Raven took the metal portions of the tools and began to reforge them into a new shape.  The shape was that of a blade.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 4: Questions and Answers*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 4: Questions and Answers*

Near the end of the week, Glynden received an unexpected group of visitors.  A group of dwarves, all wearing the regalia and bearing the symbols of Mordin entered the town, having made the journey through the still snow-clogged passes of the Dragon Tail range.  They were a taciturn bunch, even for dwarves.

Discovering that Raven (They refused to call him by that name.  They would only use his dwarven name.) was in town, they asked for a private meeting with him.  Their voices were especially grave and somber when making this request.  Raven was able to get Boss Brathwaite to let them use an abandoned equipment room near the mouth of the mine to assure that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

The group represented a variety of the sects of Moradin's worship, but the Record Keepers made up the bulk of the group.  They informed Raven that the high priests at Mithrak Ghul (the Deepest Delve) had foreseen a darkness rising in the west that could, ultimately, pose a threat to the dwarven peoples of the Northlands.  One of the oracles among the Record Keepers had received visions that this evil force was especially subtle and corrupting and had "turned children against their mother".

The high priest had a vision sent from Moradin himself and this resulted in an Edict Stone being sent forth.  (An Edict Stone is the most serious kind of missive that can be sent forth from Mithrak Ghul.  They are written in dwarven runes and are to be shown only to dwarven clerics.)  The leader of the expedition to Glynden unloaded the Stone, roughly the size of a dinner plate, from his pack and showed it to Raven.  It read:

_The Faithful to Moradin should place their Trust only in those who Speak With Stones_

Raven's eyes went wide as he read the stone but he held his tongue for the moment.  The leader of the expedition quickly took the Edict Stone back and stowed it in his pack again.  He explained that those among the Record Keepers believed the message referred to the Sages of Boccob who dwelled in the Empire.  The Sages were known to use various crystals to scry and communicate with one another and this was a way of "speaking with stones".  As a result, most of the dwarves were going to depart Glynden headed south for Oar.  There, they would take a ship across the Crescent Sea to Emor to consult with the Sages.  (This is a BIG deal since most dwarves hate the water and shy away from shipboard travel.)  The rest of the group will head to the west and inform the dwarves at the Stone Tooth of the recent developments.

Raven thanked them for bringing the information.  He then went to spend some time contemplating what he had learned and meditating on its significance.

Speaks was continuing to spend time at his home in the woods, communing with nature and unlocking more of its secrets.  Word had reached him through Rhys and Tarsheeva that his name was being sullied in Glynden, but he decided that he didn't care.  His patience with the town and its leaders was beginning to wear thin.  He had done nothing but try and aid them and still they called his motives into question.  He had restored the wealth of the mines of Aquae Sulis to them, but they called him greedy.  Speaks decided that he would have as little to do with the town as possible from now on, so long as they respected the boundaries of his forest.

Speaks instead kept to himself and spent his time trying to draw closer to the wildlands.  But the distracted feeling he had continued and, if anything, was getting worse.  He found himself trying to concentrate on his link with the wild, only to discover after several minutes that he was simply staring into space.

After several more days of this, he discovered that whenever he found himself staring like that, it was always in the same direction:  Northwest.  He tried to focus on this feeling and found that it was some kind of calling, pulling him in that direction.  He further determined that it had a "natural" source, but it differed from the forces of nature from which he derived his own powers.

Finally, he resolved that he needed to discover the source of this calling.  He was becoming unable to concentrate on anything else anyway.  He transformed into an eagle and flew off to the northwest.  He informed none of the rest of the party as to where he was going or how long he would be gone.

A couple of days after Speak disappeared, in early afternoon,, the sound of hoofbeats was heard beyond the walls of Glynden.  A group of six horsemen arrived at the gate and after a brief challenge by the guards, they were allowed inside.  They all wore heavy armor and the symbol of St. Cuthbert was featured prominently on their tabbards.  The horses they rode were monstrous compared to the mountain ponies found around Glynden.  The group moved with an air of authority that was somewhere between regal and arrogant.

The riders slowed their mounts to a fast walk but did not pause as they made their way to the Church of St. Cuthbert in town.  They entered the abbey and emerged a short while later and walked purposefully (having left their horses tied outside the church) straight to the market plaza with Father Tomas hurrying to keep up in their wake.  

At the market, one of them called out, "Which one of you is Tadius Silvanus."  The man (although he hadn't identified himself yet, Scar and Raven could both tell that he was some kind of Cleric of St. Cuthbert from the holy symbol that he wore) didn't yell, but his voice brooked little room for disobedience.  Tadius stepped forward hesitantly and asked what this was about.  The man told him that they needed to speak privately.  His manner indicated that this was not a request.

Tadius told them that he would meet with them later and needed time to put away his wares before leaving them unattended.  With a snap of his fingers, the Cleric detailed two of the other men (one, obviously another Cleric, the other perhaps a templar or man at arms of some kind) to stand watch over Tadius' belongings.  "I can assure you that no one will disturb your 'wares' while we speak.  Now come with me."  Tadius gave a glance at Tarsheeva who was already standing at the ready.  She and her men took up position nearby.  Tension hung palpably in the air as the caravan guards and the warriors of St. Cuthbert engaged in a heated staring match, hands hovering near undrawn weapons all the while.

Any customers or would-be shoplifters had long since scattered.

Tadius walked away with the Cleric toward the Abbey.  The other three men at arms easily slid into formation around the much shorter elf as though to assure that he had no second thoughts about coming quietly.

A couple of hours later, they emerged from the church.  By then, a small crowd had gathered outside.  Tadius appeared red faced although from anger or embarrassment or both, could not be told.  He quickly thrust his way through the crowd and headed back to the market.  Raven and Scar noticed that he was missing the headband that he normally wore 

The Cleric addresses the gathered crowd.  "I am Lucius Aelius Capito, Inquisitor of St. Cuthbert.  We have reason to believe that certain members of this community have recently come under a corrupting influence.  We intend to expose this corruption to the Light of Truth.  If you are of pure heart, and you aid us in this endeavor, you have nothing to fear.  But if you are among those who have been touched by this foul influence or if you try to shelter those who have, you will feel the Retribution of St. Cuthbert.

Now, who among you has seen someone bearing this symbol?!" 

He held up a medallion of coppery red metal made into a wheel with three wavy spokes that met in the center.  It looked just like the one that hung around Scar's neck.  Speaks and Rhys usually wore one too.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 5: The Inquisition*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

I'll bet nobody expected that, huh? 

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 5: The Inquisition*

Scar backed away from the crowd gathered outside the church.  He tucked the medallion inside his tunic and made his way back toward the barracks in search of Kyndalyn.  He had some questions about the Inquisition and wanted to talk to Father Tomas or Kyndalyn and since Father Tomas was inside the church with the Inquisitors, Kyndalyn was the obvious choice.

He located the Captain of the Glynden Guard in the market where he was obviously doing his best to make sure that the men at arms who accompanied the Inquisitors didn't come to blows with Tarsheeva and her men.  Kyndalyn ultimately had both group back away from Tadius' wagons and put a group of guardsmen in between them.  Scar observed that if the battle hardened caravan guards and men at arms decided to do battle, the handful of green troops from Glynden would be easily swept aside or crushed between them.

After a few more minutes apart, tensions began to ease and Kyndalyn had time to speak with Scar.  They stepped aside into the hollow between a guard tower and the main wall.  Scar asked Kyndalyn about the Inquisitors and their legitimacy.  Kyndalyn knew little about them but he could make a few assertions about what was and what wasn't within their power.

As the principal religion in Emor, the Inquisitors had the authority to bring individuals into custody in order to question them.  If they were found to have committed wrongdoing of some kind, they were turned over to the secular authorities for justice (although this system was heavily based on information obtained by the Church).

But Glynden lay outside the Empire now.  The Northlands had been abandoned to their own fate and although their laws were heavily based on those of Emor, the Inquisitors lacked the same authority they had within the official bounds of the Empire.  That said, virtually all of the town of Glynden were worshipers of St. Cuthbert and if the Inquisitors decided to do something that wasn't strictly legal, there was probably little that Kyndalyn could do to stop it.

Scar absorbed all of this and tried to figure out where he would fit in.  He was a worshiper of St. Cuthbert, but was only a lay-person, not a member of the clergy.  Furthermore, he hadn't done anything wrong and resented feeling like some kind of criminal just because of the amulet he wore.

Kyndalyn informed Scar that he intended to go straightaway to talk to the Inquisitors and find out what was going on.  Scar decided to hang around the market and see if a fight broke out.

Another hour or so went by before the head Inquisitor returned to the market plaza.  He collected his men and then walked over to Scar.  "You are 'Scar' if I'm not mistaken?"

"That's right."

"I'd like to have a word with you if you don’t mind.  Would you please accompany me back to the Abbey?"

Scar agreed.

Back at the Abbey, the Inquisitor introduced himself and took Scar into the sanctuary.  Scar saw that it now bore several new bits of accouterment including a large table set up near the front that was draped with a cloth bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert.  Lucius invited Scar to divest himself of his weapons and armor if he would be more comfortable.  Scar indicated that that would not make him more comfortable.

Then Lucius asked if he would mind the use of several divinations upon Scar, including ones that would determine if his possessions were magical and would compel everyone present to speak the truth.  Scar agreed to this.  Both Lucius and another cleric set about performing spells.

Lucius asked Scar if he would remove the amulet he wore and lay it on the table.  Scar complied.  The Inquisitor proceeded to inform Scar that the High Priests of St. Cuthbert had foretold the coming of a powerful force of evil and corruption.  Some of the other information they had receive from their oracles seemed to point to this force originating in the Northlands and that it would bear a symbol that resembled the form of the amulet.

The Inquisitor asked where Scar had obtained the amulet and Scar told him that it was given to him by Speaks With Stone.  A series of questions followed this probing into whether Scar knew where Speaks had gotten the amulet from and what he knew about Speaks and the others with whom he had recently adventured.

The more questions that were asked, the more reticent and evasive Scar became.  This only served to make Lucius more suspicious and his frustration started to become evident in his tone.  Finally, he dismissed Scar after asking if he knew the whereabouts of Raven, Speaks and Rhys (Scar knew that Raven was in town but did not know where to find Speaks and Rhys).

One of the men at arms was dispatched to Nan's where he knocked on the door of the room that Raven had rented.  Raven answered and the man at arms informed him that Lucius would like to speak with him at his earliest convenience.  Raven replied that he would be willing to talk with him in the morning.  The man at arms thanked him and departed.

Raven arrived at the temple in the morning and was generously welcomed by Lucius who offered him some tea.  Raven accepted.  Lucius then got down to business and asked if he might use some of his divinations to determine what items of a magical nature Raven carried.  Raven declined.  Without missing a beat, Lucius asked if Raven minded if they were under the influence of a _Zone of Truth_.  Again, Raven declined stating that his word as a dwarf should be assurance enough.  Lucius replied that he wanted Raven to be assured that he also spoke the truth.

Raven asked, "Do ya' plan on lyin' to me otherwise then?"

Lucius returned, "Not at all."

"Let's get on with it then.  I've got work to do."  Said Raven.

The interview with Raven was considerably shorter than that with Scar.  Lucius asked a series of questions about his involvement with Speaks With Stone and what he knew of the amulet that he wore.  Raven reported that Speaks seemed a decent fellow and had comported himself with bravery and honor.  He knew little of the amulet or its origins.

Raven also said that he thought that Speaks was getting a raw deal with the townsfolk who seemed fairly unappreciative considering the service that Speaks had rendered to them.  As he had only just arrived in town, Lucius could not speak to that particularity but did say that he had received some disturbing reports that Speaks With Stone had threatened violence against some of the townspeople without much provocation.  Raven had little else to say on the matter.  (There's that 6 Charisma coming into play)

Lucius concluded the interview by telling Raven that the High Priests of St. Cuthbert had received ominous visions about an evil arising in the Northlands.  He hoped that Raven would remain vigilantly on guard for any signs of corruption among those with whom he came into contact.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, half way across the northlands in the depths of the Darkwood, Speaks located the source of what had been calling him.  It was an enormous Treant standing in a lush clearing.  Speaks landed before the mighty oak and transformed back into human form.

The Treant addressed him in a low bass voice, "Greetings, Speaks With Stones.  I thank you for heeding the call of the wood.  I am Great Root."

Speaks was awed and humbled before the incredible power and antiquity of the being before him.  "I…I am honored to stand before you.  How can I serve you."

"Word of your deeds has spread on the wind and reached my leaves.  I know that you are a faithful servant of the wilds, as am I, although different paths call us.  I belong to the will of Elhona.  If you shall serve anyone in this forest, it shall be her."

Speaks knew of the goddess, Elhona.  She was the more nurturing partner of the Green Man, Obad-Hai.  "What is it that you ask."

"I would ask you to do a terrible thing.  For in so asking, I would require that you face horror beyond imagining and that you become an Oathbreaker.  And so, I shall not ask.  Because if you were to take on such an onerous burden simply because I, whom you have only just met, asked it, I would not want you as an ally.  One so easily swayed as that is not staunch enough to make it through the trials ahead.

Instead, I ask that you go to a place within these woods and seek what may be found there.  If you do, you will know what must be done and can decide if you have it within you to do it."  As Great Root spoke, he reached out one his giant limbs and touched Speaks with the twigs at the tip.  As he did so, Speaks' mind filled with the image of a dark and foreboding temple sitting in the midst of a black and gnarled wood.  He now knew with complete certainty the precise location of this place and could walk there with his eyes closed if necessary.

Speaks asked tentatively, "Is there danger there?"

With the utmost solemnity, Great Root replied, "To your very soul.  I am aware that you have close friends and allies.  If they will join you, you may survive the dangers of That Place.  Without them, I fear you will have little chance of success."

Speaks replied, "I will seek what can be found in the depths of the Temple.  But I fear for my own woodlands in my absence.  The townsfolk of Glynden seem less tolerant than they once were."

"Your woods will remain inviolate.  I shall see to it."  Great Root spoke with utter certainty.

There seemed little left to say.  Speaks gazed up the enormity of the Treant and said, "I will go."

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 6: Messages*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 6: Messages*

Speaks decided to walk back to Glynden rather than fly in eagle form.  He had a lot of thinking to do about what Great Root had asked of him.

The second day of his journey back to Glynden, he decided to send word back to town ahead of him.  He penned notes to several people to send vial animal messenger.

(These notes were sent to me by Speaks With Stone's player via e-mail.)

_Rhys, 

As I have informed Father Thomas, I have discovered an evil temple to the north.  Based on information provided by the servants of Elhonna, this is the source of a great evil and as a byproduct is runining the gnolls south into your lands.  I have committed myself to facing whatever evil lies within this temple before it can corrupt the Dark Wood, my forest, or Glynden.  I will be returning in a few days to explain the details, but I seek hearty souls who are willing to represent the interests of Glynden in this endeavor.  This will not be easy or pretty, but it is necessary.

Rhys, I think you should sit this one out.  You have had a traumatic time of late and this may be especially difficult for you considering the nature of the evil we face.  Instead, I only ask you to deliver this message to Scar, Tarsheeva, and Tadius.  I have enclosed a second message with this one for you to deliver to Raven.  Please do so as soon as possible.

Speaks With Stone_

--------------------------------------------------

_ Raven, 
After much reflection on recent events, I wish to inform you that in the future I will not accept the authority of the Glynden Council to settle disputes between myself and the Glynden Council.  If you feel that a 3rd party must decide the dispensation of any future treasure, then I will submit to that request.  But I will never again allow those who stand to profit from the outcome of the decision make the final decision.  Those wealthy landowners have no right to the silver.  They didn't know it existed and certainly had no way of retreiving it.  Claiming that these people owned the mine in the recent past is dubious proof.  Since their ownership of the mines has passed into barbarian, gnoll, and kobold hands.  Before the Emorian Empire conquered these lands the mine was the property of the barbarians and before that I'm sure it was someone else.  And long before any sentient owned the mine, it belonged to the creatures of the land that lost their homes to sentient encroachment.  To give the silver to the Council seems rather arbitrary in thatlight, but if a 3rd party so judged, I would feel it fair.  But to allow the Council to decide how much they wish to profit off of our actions and blood isdispicable.  You put it to the council and did nothing to ensure a fair ruling on the matter.  

Again, I should have spoke more plainly at the time, but there is bad blood between myself and members of the council.  I should have explained better, but I was so tired of fighting, death, and disagreement, that I avoided the conversation.  But the Jucadius family has great enmity to me for interupting their torturous treatment of their livestock.  These people gave us no fair consideration and even now rumors spread around the town of Glynden speaking evil of me, my works, and even my motives.  You spoke to me of the rightful owner, but Jucadius has done nothing to deserve that silver.  I have done many great services to the Town of Glynden and they have yet to treat me fairly.  For helping in their war and bringing peace with the barbarians, they gave me a share in a mine that they did not possess.  In order for me to receive my pay, I had to provide an additional service of regaining the mine.  I would have rejected this if my companions had not been so anxious.  Though I do admit that I felt a certain amount of revenge was necessary for the gnolls.  

Let me explain further, that while I respect the authority of Glynden, I am not bound by their laws.  I have my own land and my own laws.  Much I assume is the same with you.  I respect the will of Glynden so long as it does not violate my own.  I'm certain that if it were unlawful to grow a beard in Glynden, you would flout that law or else avoid the place.  I take the same stance.  

But I have dwelled too long on this.  I will speak of this matter no further.  Graver matters have come to light of late.  My desire to embrace life has met with bitter returns.  When I return in a few days, I will explain further, but I have confirmed the rumors of a great evil in the north.  I have located an ancient temple that may be the source of the darkness that has forced the gnolls south.  I have met with servants of Elhonna and they confirm that this temple has lain empty for centuries, but now has new occupants.  I have agreed to face whatever the temple has within.  To that end I pray that yourself and Scar are willing to aid in this endeavor.  I would understand if you wish to travel on to the StoneTooth, but I could certainly use a stout friend and I am afraid that I have never made many friends of any kind.

I pray this message finds you well and that all goes well.  I look forward to trying on the new armor and hefting the Fang of Aark.  If I must face battle and evil again so soon, then at least I will be well dressed for the occasion.

Speaks With Stone  _

-----------------------------------------------------------

_Father Thomas,

I have further investigated the rumors of evil to the north.  I'm afraid I have ill tidings.  An ancient temple of evil, long-deserted, has become active again. 
The servants of Elhonna have asked me to investigate the temple more closely.  Their comments on what I will see there is not promising.  I will return shortly to begin this expedition, please ask Scar if he would consider joining the expedition, he would be a welcome addition.  Any others up to the task are also welcome, but I want only experienced individuals who can care for themselves.

I wish to inform you that I have enlisted the aid of various guardians to protect the forest in my absence.  I have begun to feel that I am not as welcome in Glynden as I was in the past.  For this I sorrow, but it makes me more cautious of our arrangement.  Be certain that no one violates the forest, they will not appreciate the experience.

While I suppose I could return to my old ways of blessing crops and healing livestock for Glynden, it seems to me that those services did little to engender good will.  Returning victorious from the Winter War gave me good relations for barely 3 months.  A poor exchange for the pain and blood involved in that endeavor.  The barbarian folk embraced and accepted me in a few weeks, whereas the people of Glynden have not accepted me in a few years.  I'm afraid that the needs and expectations of your folk are far greater than my patience.  While I still am inclined to peaceful relations, I have decided that I do not need Glynden and will no longer seek to ingratiate myself to your people.  I will be a friendly neighbor, but not one who visits and brings lunch every Sunday.

So in the spirit of such friendship, I send my regards and wish to counsel with you on the matters of the temple and what we two communities can do for our common good.

Speaks With Stone_

----------------------------------------------------

_Kyndalyn,

As I have informed Father Thomas, I have discovered an evil temple to the north.  Based on information provided by the servants of Elhonna, this is the source of a great evil and as a byproduct is running the gnolls south into your lands.  I have committed myself to facing whatever evil lies within this temple before it can corrupt the Dark Wood, my forest, or Glynden.  I will be returning in a few days to explain the details, but I seek hearty souls who are willing to represent the interests of Glynden in this endeavor.  This will not be easy or pretty, but it is necessary.

I also wish to inform you that I have enlisted the aid of various guardians to protect the forest in my absence.  I have begun to feel that I am not as welcome in Glynden as I was in the past.  For this I sorrow, but it makes me more cautious of our arrangement.  Be certain that no one violates the forest, they will not appreciate the experience.

Speaks With Stone_

---------------------------------------------------

These notes sped their way to Glynden as Speaks continued his thoughtful foot journey back home.  As another day passed, he awoke to sounds of an approaching animal.  It turned out to be a large bear who inquisitively approached him.  Speaks used his empathic abilities to establish a rapport with the bear.  When he had time to prepare his magic, he used the powers of nature to speak with the creature.

The bear told him that it had been sent by Great Root to see him safely through the forest (still plagued by Gnolls).  The bear also admitted that Great Root had bribed him to assure him a mate when he returned home.  Speaks decided that with most of his flock of birds released, he could use a new _Animal Friend_ and so he befriended the bear and decided to call him "Scrub".

-------------------------------------------------

Raven had spent almost the entirety of the last two weeks working at the local forge crafting enchanted bits of arms and armor for himself and his fellows.  This left him with a great sense of satisfaction but almost completely broke.  He also noted that Speaks was unlikely to want to return to town soon with all the ill feelings toward him, not to mention the Inquisition.

Raven decided that all of these factors pointed to one conclusion:  He needed to leave town too.  Based on the words contained on the Edict Stone, his fate was inextricably linked to that of Speaks and he needed to join up with him as soon as possible.  Since Raven had virtually no chance of locating the Druid within the woods, his best chance was to go camp in the woods near where Speaks lived and wait to be found.  So he packed his things, bade Nan and Jaffray goodbye and ventured out of town.

He set up camp a half day's walk to the northwest of town and settled in to wait for Speaks.  He was presently working diligently at crafting a number of small, stone boxes and lids for them.

Two days after he left Glynden, he heard hoof beats and the Inquisitors and their men at arms rode up.  Lucius inquired as to why Raven had left town.  Raven replied that he was running out of money to pay the innkeeper and decided to camp outside town.  Lucius then asked told Raven that he had still been unsuccessful in gaining an interview with Speaks or Rhys and wondered if Raven knew their whereabouts.  Raven told Lucius that he didn't know where either of them were but was waiting for Speaks to return.

That being the case, Lucius asked Raven if he would mind if a couple of his men camped alongside him so that they could ask Speaks for an interview whenever he came calling.  Raven said that would be fine so long as the men didn't interfere with his work.  Lucius detailed two, Cornelius and Mercatius to stay behind and then he and the others departed back toward Glynden.

*NEXT:  Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 7:  Return and Departure*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

*NEXT: Distrust, Betrayal and Oathbreaking Part 7: Return and Departure*


Speaks and Scrubs finally arrived home at the wolf cave and found a note left by Rhys:

_ Speaks with Stone:

I hope this letter finds you well, my friend.  Strange things are afoot in Glynden town these days.  Several days after you left, Tarsheeva came out to the cave, rather upset and enquiring as to your whereabouts.  I was unable to help her, since I didn't know where you had gone.  She told me that a force of soldiers and priests of St. Cuthbert, styling themselves 'inquisitors', had arrived in Glynden that morning.  The inquisitors took Tadius into the temple for questioning, not entirely with Tadius' cooperation, about the amulets and the headband of intellect that we sold him last winter.  It seems the Church feels that the symbol that adorns the amulets and headband is indicative of some evil influence.  Tarsheeva told me that she and Tadius are leaving Glynden immediately and heading over the Fodor to the barbarian lands.  She sends her love and hope that the two of you will meet up again someday soon.  She really is a lovely girl.

I was really taken aback with the news that the inquisition had come to Glynden.  Though not a follower of St. Cuthbert myself, for reasons that would be apparent with a few moments thought, I have heard stories of the inquisition.  It's my understanding that they are not sent out lightly, or with no purpose.  Something dire is going on, I fear.  Perhaps there is something to what the kobold said about the power in the north.  That would be something the Church would be interested in as well.

A day later, after Tarsheeva came and went, I got a 'sending' from Scar from the amulet I still wear.  He told me that the inquisition wanted to talk to both you and me about something and to please present ourselves for questioning.  I know that he is a follower of the Saint, but even so, something in his tone of voice told me that he was not the one from whom this summons originated.  I doubt that Scar is in any danger from the inquisitors, but I also do not doubt that he may be being used by them.  I hope that friend Raven is not entangled in this matter as a consequence of his generous help in clearing out the mines.

While I was pondering the news from town, your messenger bird arrived, late that night.  It was too late to pass your messages to Tadius and Tarsheeva, since they had left the area almost two days ago.  I decided to try to get the word to Raven and Scar in the morning.  As dawn broke yesterday, I donned a most wonderful item I purchased from Tadius (before all this turmoil):  a magical hat that changes one's appearance to just about any form one desires.  Thinking fondly of our barbarian companion of last year, I chose to appear to the world as Ilrath - a far cry from my current appearance.  I approached the town gates, only to be challenged by the guard as to my business.  I concocted a tale of having chance-met a band of dwarves on the road who wished a message delivered to a kinsman of theirs last known to be in or around Glynden - Raven, a Cleric of Moradin.  The guardsman told me that Raven had left town the day before, and had not returned.  Not wishing to arouse suspicion by altering my tale to include a message to Scar, and not wishing to enter town myself, I thanked him and turned about, heading back to the cave.  

Late last night, in the wee hours, I set out again, this time in stealth.  I approached town by the little watched ways, and using my magic to aid my climbing, slipped into town undetected.  I left word with my parents that I was going to leave town, not to return form some time - so as to give all of us a chance to come to terms with my altered condition.  I also left your note to Scar with my father, and asked him to see that Scar got it.  He will be a better messenger than I, as no one is paying particular attention to my father, as far as I know.

I almost left town then, but curiosity and the nearness of the temple overcame my better judgement - not, I must confess, a terribly difficult thing to overcome, as past events have shown.  It seemed to me that Tadius may well appreciate the return of the headband of intellect that the inquisitors took from him.  And if he didn't, then I certainly could find use for it.  And it was just across the way, in the temple.  With everyone asleep.  I couldn't resist.  Olidammara would be very ashamed of me if I didn't at least try....

Ah, Speaks, it was so easy as to be child's play.  I slipped inside the temple, explored the main level, poked about in the sanctuary.  I could have been quite naughty, but I didn't do anything downstairs.  My goal was the headband, and that was with the inquisitors in the rooms upstairs.  After creeping up to the second level, I spotted a guard sleeping his watch outside one of the rooms.  Rather than go past him, I decided to go around entirely.  Going back outside, I deduced which window let into the room the guard was 'guarding', and began to climb.  I opened the window, and looked inside.  There, asleep, was one of the inquisitors, and a chest at the foot of his bed.  I began to slip inside, when the hilt of my rapier banged into the windowframe, waking the sleeping man.  He shot bolt upright, and looked straight into my eyes from just a few feet away.  I could have perhaps sprung upon him and slain him, but that wasn't what I had gone there to do, so I fled.

I had made it clear away, or so I thought, when the blasted inquisitor froze me in place like a statue.  There I was, halfway over the cemetery fence, with nothing to do but wait for the guards to come find me.  I was praying mightily for Olidammara to do something for his semi-faithful servant (as this was all his fault), while the soldiers escorting the inquisitors stumbled in the dark closer to my perch.   Just as one of them was about to lay hands upon me, I felt the magic hold fall away.  I immediately tried to spring away from the fence, but the soldier was fast enough to clout me with his mace.  Staggered but not fallen, I watched in some amusement as he tried to clamber over the fence after me, with no success.   I began to put one foot in front of the other at best speed, and made it clear to the woods, and back to the cave without further incident.

While my new form has several advantages over my old, the ability to survive the rough and tumble of combat (never a strong point) has weakened.  I very nearly returned to that place you had so recently called me back from!   I fear that even well disquised by the hat as an acolyte of the Church, they may well suspect my hand in the attempt on the temple.  I must be away immediately.  I go in search of Tadius and Tarsheeva; perhaps our paths will cross again someday soon, Speaks, and we may have merry tales to tell over a campfire.  I wish you luck in your adventures, and will think often of you all in the days to come.

I still have one of the amulets we won in the battles of the Winter War, although I will not wear it at all times like I have up to this point.  There may be something to what the inquisition fears, so I will use the amulet sparingly, just in case.  I will put it on every morning at dawn for one hour, but take it off the rest of the day.  Perhaps we may contact one another that way in the future.  Until that day, I remain,

Y'r obt. svt,
 Rhys de Cameron _

Speaks told Scrubs to stay near the cave but to give the wolves a wide berth until they adapted to his presence.  He spoke to the wolves and gave them similar instructions about their new neighbor.  He then transformed into eagle form and took to the air.

He winged his way west for a day until he spotted Tadius’ caravan below.  They were just west of Aquae Sulis and moving fairly slowly.  Speaks landed and spoke with Rhys, Tadius and Tarsheeva.

He discussed the recent events in Glynden with Rhys and didn’t like what he heard regarding the Inquisition.  He then told Rhys about his journey into the Darkwood and asked him if he might borrow his Amulet in case it was needed for this quest.  Speaks and Rhys both reasoned that one of the amulets wasn’t much good without the other so Rhys loaned his to Speaks.

Speaks spoke to Tadius and they commiserated about being persecuted in Glynden.  Speaks gave him the remaining gold he owed and Tadius gave him the mask he had crafted for the Druid.  It was carved from wood and was fearsome to behold.  It was somewhat similar in form to the “Green Man” aspect of Obad-Hai, but with a sinister cast. _(Mask of Intimidation:  +10 to all Intimidation checks while worn)_

Speaks then spent a short time with Tarsheeva.  He told her a little of the undead abominations despoiling the Darkwood but he downplayed the danger.  He didn’t want her to worry.  He wished her luck and hoped to see her again before she departed the Northlands.

Speaks stayed the night with the caravan and took flight again at dawn.  He spent most of the day flying his way back to Glynden.  As he approached the outskirts of the town, he spotted a campsite below and, with his eagle-enhanced vision, he could make out the squat form of Raven.  He also saw a pair of men camped adjacent who wore the livery of St. Cuthbert.  Speaks landed and approached Raven.

The friends greeted each other but had time for no other pleasantries before the pair of soldiers approached cautiously.  One spoke, “With an entrance like that, I’ll assume you’re Speaks With Stone.”

“I am.” Spoke Speaks.

“His Eminence, Lucius Aelius Capito, Inquisitor of St. Cuthbert would like the honor of an interview with you at your earliest convenience.”

Speaks replied, “I will meet with him.  But not on ground holy to him, nor within the walls of Glynden.  I will meet him outside the town gate in the morning or not at all.  And tell him to bring with him what he has stolen.”

“I shall deliver your message.”  With that, both men hastily broke camp and departed toward town.

Speaks then related to Raven the events that had transpired within the Darkwood and told him that he intended to return there to see what secrets the temple held.  Raven replied that his hammer was at the service of Speaks for so long as it was needed.  Never ones for lengthy speeches, the pair retired to Speaks’ cave for the evening.

Once there, Speaks penned a quick note and sent it on its way by animal messenger.  It read:

_Kyndalyn,

I have agreed to meet with Capito outside the gates in the morning.  I would like you to be present because I may seek to bring charges against him and his men.

Speaks_

At dawn, Speaks and Raven both prepared themselves for whatever the day may bring.  They wordlessly ate a small breakfast and departed for the gates of Glynden.

*To be continued…*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

As the town wall came into view, they could see that guardsmen topped the wall in numbers far greater than was normal.  They approached the gate and could see some movement atop the wall.  A few moments later, the gates opened slightly and Kyndalyn came out and approached the pair.

He walked quickly and had a dour air about him as he walked up and addressed Speaks without preamble, “Speaks, I got your message and I’ll listen if you have credible charges against the Inquisitors.  I know that you’ve gotten rough treatment around here lately that you probably don’t deserve.  But if you intend to simply cause trouble because you are angry, I’ll put a stop to it if I can.  I may be stupid to put myself between your magic and Capito’s but it is my job to keep the peace around here and I intend to do so.

Some of the folks around here don’t believe the things that are being said about you.  They think that you’ve done a lot of good for the town and that you did the best you could to protect the boys.  But if you move openly against the Inquisitors, that remaining goodwill will evaporate before the dew on this grass.”

Speaks listened to Kyndalyn stoically and replied, “I intend no trouble today.  I have come to speak with these ‘Inquisitors’ as they have asked.  But I do not recognize them as having any authority over me and if they attempt to harm or incarcerate me, I will defend myself with powers such as you have not seen before.  And I have good reason to believe that they have broken the laws of your town.  I guess we’ll see then how seriously you take your job.”

Kyndalyn gave Speaks a long cool stare and then nodded curtly.  He turned on his heel and walked quickly back to the gate.  He ordered the gate opened and he went inside leaving the gate open behind him.  A moment later, the Inquisitors, their guards and Scar stepped outside onto the rocky road.

Capito gazed toward Speaks with a look of affable confidence and began to approach.  Speaks also strode forward with Raven at his side.  The two parties stopped some thirty feet from one another.  Capito spoke first, “Greetings, Speaks With Stone.  I have very much wanted to meet with you for some time now.  I am glad you could come here this morning.”

Speaks replied coldly, “Have you brought with you that which you have wrongfully taken?”

“Well…I received the missive you sent with my men.  I’m afraid that whatever you were referring to eludes me.  What is it that you think I’ve ‘stolen’?”

Speaks’ eyes narrowed, “You know full well that I meant the Amulet you took from Scar and the Headband you took from Tadius.  I want them back.”

“Ah, well, that explains why I misunderstood.  I’m afraid you have been misinformed.  I did not ‘steal’ either of those items.  Both were freely given to me that they may be studied and that their corruption spread no further through the good people of this region.”  Capito’s wan smile never left his lips.

Speaks quickly shot back, “If Scar gave you the Amulet, it was not his to give.  It belongs to me.  As for Tadius’ Headband, you expect for me to believe that he gave you such an item freely?”

The Inquisitor took on a wounded look, “I did not in any way ‘force’ Tadius to give up the Headband.  I did mention that my mission to recover any such items bearing the symbol depicted on the Headband was given directly by the Archbishop of St. Cuthbert in Oar and that if he refused I would have to report such to the Archbishop.  You have long been away from the great city of Oar, but no doubt you’ve heard that the Archbishop has a great deal of influence.  Even in such prosaic matters as…commerce.  Upon hearing how displeased the Archbishop would be, Tadius thought better of the matter and decided to hand over the Headband before it could do him any further damage.

As for this issue about Scar, I feel I must ask him to speak for himself.  Scar, was the Amulet you gave me the property of Speaks With Stone?”

Scar hadn’t expected to be dragged into the conversation and stumbled over his words a bit, “Er…well, he didn’t say he was giving it to me.  He just told me to wear it.  I would have given it back if he had asked.  So…I guess…it still belongs to Speaks.”

Speaks broke in quickly before Capito had a chance to talk again, “It is still mine and I want it back!”

Capito’s face took a more serious cast, “You seem very…possessive of the Amulet.  I admit that it seems to still be your property and I shall return it to you if you so choose.  But first, have you any idea of the Evil this symbol represents?”

Speaks shot back, “For someone who has decided that these Amulets are evil, you certainly are anxious to get your hands on them as well.  Give me back my property and we can discuss this matter further.”

“Very well then.”  Capito reached into a sack at his belt and brought forth the Amulet and handed it over to Speaks.  The Inquisitor continued, “I have come to Glynden seeking the source of these Amulets because our High Priests have foretold of the rising of a great force of Evil and Corruption in the Northlands.  The portents are vague at this time, as such things are wont to be.  But each Priest had a vision of this symbol.  Imagine our shock when a pair were spotted in a magical curio shop in our fair city.  I was immediately dispatched to investigate this matter and learned that the proprietor of the shop had purchased them from an elven merchant by the name of Tadius Silvanus.

Having already talked to Tadius and a number of others, I learned that he got them from you.  I’ve also heard that you recovered them from a band of Orcs that invaded the savage lands west of here while you were aiding the barbarians.  Is there anything more you can tell me?”

Speaks was a bit more calm now, “We did get them from the Orcs who invaded the lands of the Fodor.  We believe that the horde originated from somewhere within the Blackpeaks in a place called The City of Endless Summer.  As for ‘evil and corruption’ rising in the Northlands, I can also tell you that the Darkwood is now home to the walking dead.  I have taken up the quest to seek out the source of this unlife and put it to rest.  If you truly seek to stamp out the evil that plagues the Northlands, lend your aid to helping me rid the Darkwood of the undead.”

Capito paused for a moment, “Legend has it that the Darkwood has ever been a place of evil and strife.  Still, any effort to smite what corruption lies within that place is a noble deed.  Have you considered however that you have been led to your present path by the corrupting power of the Amulet you wear.  Our foretellings indicate that the power it represents is extremely subtle and perhaps your present actions somehow further whatever evil ends it seeks.  Or perhaps you were led there simply to get you out of the way so that it might reign freely in the regions you try to protect.”

Recalling the powerful sense of awe he felt when in the presence of Great Root, Speaks replied, “The power I serve in the Darkwood is beyond reproach.  It is the very essence of purity, the force of nature.  Perhaps it is you who have been led astray by the power of this corruption.  Perhaps it desires for you to question my motives and attempt to have me stray from the path I have chosen.”

Capito’s smile returned, “I am forced by my calling to ward myself against such evil deceptions as you suspect I may have fallen under.  I can see that you will not be swayed and I cannot say in truth that it would be well if you were.

In any event, I cannot come with you to aid your endeavor.  I have been charged specifically with learning the origins of these symbols and returning to Oar with that information and I intend to do precisely that.  As the Headband that Tadius provided appears to have similar but more powerful magics, I shall return it to our Priests and Sages for study.  Perhaps they can uncover more of its secrets.

I wish you good fortune in your quest, Speaks With Stone.  But, again, I caution you.  Be wary of the power of the Amulets you bear and tread carefully on your path.  I fear that it may be fraught with dangers that would beguile you to a darker purpose.”

Speaks inquired, "Shall I take that to mean that our interview is concluded?"

The Inquisitor returned, "I do not think that any further knowledge or good is to be had from its continuation.  Farewell Speaks With Stone."

As the Inquisitors turned to depart, Scar lingered and his eyes darted from one group to the other.  Capito gestured for Scar to step aside with him and Scar agreed.  The Inquisitor addressed him quietly, "Scar, I know that you have gone to battle and shared adventures with those two.  I can see that you wish to go with them and I shall not try to stop you.  But I do not speak falsely of the dangers the Church believes are tied to those Amulets and those who wrought them.  I implore you not to wear one again.

And be on guard against the corruption that may, at this very moment, be gnawing at the soul of Speaks With Stone.  I pray that these predictions shall not come to pass, but it is our duty to be vigilant.

In this matter, you shall be the Eyes and the Ears and the Hand of the Church.  Do you understand?"

Scar's reply was short, "I will do what is necessary."

Capito nodded.  Scar turned and rejoined his companions.

The day was young and they had all the supplies they could need so the trio set out straightaway.  They turned their backs to the town of Glynden and headed toward the heart of the Darkwood.

*NEXT:  Journey to the Temple*


----------



## Rel (Jul 10, 2003)

The story picks up from here in *Rel's Faded Glory II*.  Follow the link in my sig.

Thanks for reading.


----------



## Darklone (Jul 11, 2003)

You're welcome....


----------

