by Boric Glanduum » Sun May 04, 2008 3:06 pm
February 23, 2008
When I returned to my senses, I found myself in my room. Someone apparently had me taken there when Rimgah--curse Boric's beard--stunned me. I heard voices outside and so I rose, painfully, and made my way outside and to the ground. There I found my companions surrounding an elf that looked somewhat familiar. He introduced himself as S'ven. He was one of the group of elves I met when returning from my last audience with Turlang. He has been discussing with the others the situation he and the elves faced with the orcs. He has convinced my friends that we should go with him to help battle the orcs. We quickly made preparations and set off following.
After traveling for several hours, I saw an orc in the distance pop up from behind a tree; he was armed with a bow. No-one else apparently saw him and as I called out a warning, two arrows flew past S'ven--one on either side of his head. Ty ran forward, smoothly drawing her bow with one hand and two arrows with her other.
It's always amazing to watch her fight; she fights like a dwar at times.
Her arrows both hit home, but the orcish archer seems unfazed. Dettrick called forth one of his orbs and launches it at the orc. It burst when it struck him; he screamed once as the acid drenched him, sizzling through his flesh as he dropped to the ground, dead before he landed.
He was not alone: another orc appeared and Yev'rah moved to close with him. Two worgs stepped out of the greenery at his side. Yev drew his sword and in one smooth action struck this orc; there is a thundering "crack" that resounds through the woods. Ty whirled and shot an arrow at this new orc as well. As I swung off my mount, a lightning bolt arced between the orc and both worgs. Yev'rah was extremely lucky, as the bolt happened to pass right around him; there was enough energy in the strike to kill both the orc and one of the worgs. The other worg looked badly burned, but angry. Creeg leaped over a row of bushes, landing on the worg and stabbing it repeatedly, all the while yelling insensibly.
The ambush grew worse: another orc appeared from the brush, foaming at his mouth and wildly striking out with his sword. He moved up to Tera and hacked him several times. I moved up within ten feet of the raging orc and slashed at him through the branches of a tree. Rimgah sliced through the branches and the orc's armor equally well. It was enough to distract him from the Loremaster for a moment, just long enough for Tera to scramble away.
Another orc appeared from the trees. How many of these filthy creatures can there be? S'ven had warned us that the orcs had large numbers. Fire lanced from this new orcs mouth. A shaman? Fiery breath? The flames enveloped both Yev'rah and Creeg. This new orc grinned evilly and drew an enormous sword from a scabbard on his back. His sword stood nearly as long as he was tall.
Yev'rah dropped to the ground, extinguishing the flames, and rolled to his feet. Both the raging orc and the shaman attempted to hit Yev'rah as he tumbled, without success. He popped to his feet behind the shaman just as two of Tymora's arrows struck this orc in the shoulder. Creeg stepped in and struck the shaman with a powerful blow.
With perfect timing a ray of energy struck the raging orc. The grin on Dettrick's face had pulled the skin so tightly that his face now resembled a death-mask. This hurm {human} truly frightens me sometimes. From the gloom of the forest, two arrows raced forth and struck Ty. Another ork archer was out there, but had withdrawn apparently as soon as he fired his shots.
The raging orc, having missed Yev'rah, simply continued an arc with his sword and brought it around his head to strike at Tera. He missed and overextended himself. I took the opening and stabbed Rimgah into the orc's armpit. He elbowed the pike to one side and stepped inside my reach and stabbed his sword upward. He was unable to breach my armor, but I felt something in my stomach tear at the force of his blow. I was shaken a bit, but still able to cast my tree-walking spell. A stumbled away from the orc and stepped into the elm tree beside me.
I had a vague idea of where the new archer was hidden. I closed my mind to the sounds and sights of battle around me and moved through space into a second elm tree some distance into the forest. I had the sense of an orc hiding near this tree, so I stepped out of the new tree already swinging my blade. I appeared directly in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise, and then pain, as Rimgah's blade sliced and then stabbed through the orc's chest. A gout of blood sprayed the elm tree.
From behind me, there was a bright green flash. Dettrick again, I thought. I cannot spare a glance, however much I would like to see the damage he wrought. The orc in front of me ran backward and fired two arrows at me; they flew wide to my left. I grinned at him and stepped back into the elm tree at my side. Thank you, Tree, I thought. I could feel the tree's disgust at being coated with the orc's foul blood. I will care for you in a moment.
I moved through the space between.
I stepped out of another elm tree directly behind the archer with Rimgah upraised. Just as I did so, two of Ty's arrows slammed into him: one in his forehead and the other in his chest. The latter buried itself deep in the orc's chest until it emerged halfway from his back. The force of the blows made the orc fall backward into a sitting position, and he slowly slumped sideways onto the ground. Such a mighty bow!
I stepped back into the elm and moved back to the second tree. I stepped from that tree momentarily and caused a shower of water to appear from the sky and drench the tree, rinsing the foul offal from its bark. From where I stood I could see Dettrick slumped on the ground back where the ambush was sprung. I stepped back inside the elm and moved toward Dettrick, sensing the gratitude of the tree as I left its presence.
I was already removing gulm {healing} potions from my belt as I stepped out of another tree and jogged toward the mage's prostrate form. Fortunately, he was still conscious and able to drink the potions; I knelt and gave him three potions in a row to bring him back to a reasonable level of health.
I felt hands on my back and a warmth that suffused my body. I looked up in time to see Tera taking his hands from my shoulders and nodding at me. I nodded back and stood to see which others needed my aid.
We were close enough and so traveled back to Teuveamanthar where we rested for a day and replenished supplies lost or fouled in the ambush. It occurs to me that I am thinking and speaking in Dwarram {Dwarvish} more than I have in years. After much thought I have decided it is the presence of Rimgah. His will is seemingly strong enough to impose some of his thoughts into my mind. All that I have heard him speak has been in Dwarram, not in Common. He may not be too skilled with Common.
Our next march was uneventful, at least for the first two days. On the third day, we were surprised by four treants. They stepped out to confront us; one in the middle held up a hand and bellowed, "Halt!" I recognized him as Turlang's ... lieutenant ... for lack of a better term. Oendith, I believe his name is. Dettrick, as is his wont, begins to speak sarcastically to the treants. Sometime his mouth is going to get him killed. Tymora has shared similar thoughts with me on occasion. S'ven moved up quickly and convinced Dettrick to stop talking.
Oendith recognized both S'ven and I and took us off to confer with us. He began by telling us that some of the devils they were fighting at Hellgate Keep have escaped the treants' seige and that he cannot ensure our safety if we continue traveling.
"We had heard as much, Oendith, and we understand the risks we are taking. However, we must continue on; we must speak with Turlang. We have matters to discuss that concern the Wood and the entire region, not just the Keep. We will take the chance in order to complete these goals. Especially if you are willing to accompany us back to Turlang." He thought for a while and then agrees. "My root-mates and I will come with you. If things as are you say, Turlang must make the decision to hear you or not."
Having that out of the way, I asked him round-about questions concerning Turlang's state of mind. All he would divulge is that Turlang was "entirely focused on Hellgate Keep." As we walked back to the others, Oendith said, "You would be well-advised to keep the human mage quiet."
"I understand, Oendith; perhaps it might come better from a treant than a dwar." He made a sound of assent and, as we reached the circle of our friends, marched directly to Dettrick, put a finger-branch in the mage's face, and growled menacingly. "You will be quiet, little man." Dettrick mumbled something about his new armor; Oendith shook his head and said, "That's not what I meant. Now, we are going. Come." He spoke to the other treants and they started off into the forest.
We had not traveled far when we hear howling in the forest. Ty appeared frightened at the sound and moved closer to Dettrick. The howling continued for nearly an hour, then stopped suddenly. We traveled for another hour and Oendith's companions melted into the forest. He walked a few more steps, then nodded at me, and himself walked into the trees. We found ourselves standing before Turlang. I left the others and walked toward him.
"Ereden'indyo. Welcome. This is not an opportune time for a visit; however, you may speak. Just do so quickly."
I retrieved a flask of pure water from my pack and extended the flask. He accepted it with a nod and I began explaining my concerns. "I admit there is trouble here, Eredin'indyo. More than I would normally want your companions to know. There is a war going on within the Keep. A civil war. The demons and the devils are fighting amongst themselves and it is bleeding out into the Forest. We suspect there have been a large number of these creatures that have escaped through our lines and are roaming the forest."
"Perhaps, Turlang, the problem lies in your defenses." He growled a response. "No, no. I misspoke. It was too simplified. Let me explain. Perhaps it is the nearness of the wood to the Keep that is allowing them to sneak from the Keep to the Wood."
Turlang just looked at me for a moment, then said, "You have been listening to those from the Emerald Enclave, have you not?"
"I cannot deny that, Turlang. But I have also thought much about this on my own--and deeply--and am forced to agree with their assessment. As you know, I was not born a tree-brother, but have come to it later in life. I have had much training as a warrior and have been taught by a High Old One of Moradin--curse my cousin's milk-dripping beard!--something of tactics. The encroaching forest makes it too easy for the demons and devils to escape. It gives them cover; there is not enough open ground for them to cross.
"I believe that if you were to withdraw the Wood from around the Keep, you would provide yourself with a barrier of bare ground. The creatures within the Keep would be obvious as they tried to cross this ground; you could pick them off as they scamper for cover."
"What you say makes a degree of sense, little one. I will consider your words. I will consider them well." His eyes were already distant.
"I thank you, Turlang, for at least giving me a hearing. Now, what do you wish of me?"
"I do not know, little one. Tell me what aid you think you can offer me."
We discuss for a time the creatures we have encountered; he tells me of the demon-fey. We discuss the kidnaping of elves and other creatures. Finally, we wander back to the rest of the group. He addresses them and tells them some of what we have discussed. As a group, we agree to track down the Fey'ri and other creatures, as we are more suited to that purpose than to a prolonged head-to-head siege of the Keep.
As we prepared to leave, Turlang held up his hand and spoke again. "You should follow the Delimbiyr River. That will provide you the quickest route, as well as the safest from the Fey'ri, as the ground is fairly open." He winked at me. "Eredin'indyo has convinced me, I believe, that despite its appearance, open ground can also provide a good defense. Beware, however, for while I believe you shall have relative safety from the Fey'ri on this route, there are reports of orcs--as you know--but also of giants and giant-kin. Use caution." And with that, Turlang walked into the forest and vanished from sight.
We took Turlang's suggestion to heart and traveled down the River Delimbiyr. He was right, for although we heard some distant howling, there was no sign of Fey'ri or their vile beasts. After several hours, however, we saw a group of elves running toward us on the other side of the river. They were being pursued by a giant whose skin had a slight blue tinge.
Frost giants, I thought as I drew Rimgah. Odd. I can almost feel the shaft turn within my hands.
When they saw us, they began yelling at us; several pointed to our side of the river, in front of us. As they did, Ty yelled out that there was a large wolf coming toward us. "It is large--nearly the size of a horse," she said while drawing her bow. "It is white and a plume of smoke rises from its muzzle." That confirmed my suspicions: a winter wolf. That meant we were facing at least one frost giant, if not more.
S'ven called out that he was going to help the elves. He scanned the riverbank quickly, then started across, wading through the river. In no time he was immersed to his waist in the water. As he crossed, the wolf came into view ahead of us. It trotted up to Yev'rah and breathed out a blast of icy air that surrounded Yev. He was not slowed by the blast of air, however, circling the wolf and attacking with his sword. Tymora launched two arrows into the side of the shaggy creature, again with such force that the wolf spun around once before falling dead to the ground.
Two more winter wolves appeared and three more giants. I feel strangely compelled to race at the giants. I have only fought a giant once before; it is not as if I relish fighting these beasts...any more than the rest of my people. Rimgah is nearly twisting and bouncing in my grasp. It is almost as if he is eager to engage the huge beasts.
With only a glance at the river's edge, I selected a shallow, wider turn in which to cross, and quickly forded the river, passing S'ven still pushing his way across. Yet another giant appears behind the other three and crosses the river, walking towards Ty. Two ogres leave the cover of the trees and start towards Yev. Boulders were falling from the sky, targeting the running elves and my companions.
I am beginning to feel an uncontrolled rage come upon me, similar to the anger I felt following the disastrous ambush of the Boldauk. My focus narrows down to the lead giant before me, still a good distance away. Dettrick set off a massive fireball, which engulfs all five fo the giants. A truly powerful spell. "Impressive," I heard Rimgah say. "That hurm has considerable power."
As I watched, a small white dragon swept past Dettrick, nearly knocking him from his feet. A cloud of ice passed Dettrick and engulfed the Loremaster, Tera.
"Pay attention!" Rimgah again.
Six elves--I believe it was six; I'm having trouble seeing anything but the giants!--rushed past me and the lead giant strides forward. He is sixty feet--now fifty feet away. All I can see is the giant. My vision--it is narrowing. My friends have vanished from view...my friends.....what friends? I am alone. Alone against the giant. Alone.
He is mine.
Mine.
My friends told me later that I was yelling in Dwarram: battle cries. I know this to be true because my throat feels as if I had swallowed knives; it is coarse and raw. They also tell me that I dropped my pack to the ground and rushed forward, Rimgah above my head. They tell me I charged into the giant at a full run, opening the giant's stomach from one side to the other. They tell me that offal and entrails sprayed twenty feet or more.
The giant fell.
What happened next, only S'ven could tell me. Two more giants flanked me; the first hit me with his axe. S'ven tells me that Rimgah struck the giant at the same time, digging deeply into the blue flesh. The second giant then struck me with his axe, knocking me from his companion and ripping Rimgah out of his stomach. S'ven tells me I dropped to the ground like a stone; he feared I was dead.
Sometime later I came to myself. I had received some healing, but not enough that I could not feel the damage the giants' huge axes had done to me. My armor was still intact; the force of their blows, however, tore muscles and organs. I had lost a lot of blood--it soaked the ground around me.
My friends had done some good work, though. It was a true arglary {a proper butchering} as corpses, charred corpses, littered the ground around the river. Wolves, giants, ogres...all dead.
Somewhere in my head I heard a deep chuckle.
Last edited by
Boric Glanduum on Thu May 15, 2008 1:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Ah, the life of an adventuring cleric. I remember it well. A perpetual struggle to maintain the hit point totals of four or five nigh-suicidal tomb robbers determined to deplete them at all costs."