March 9, 2013 -- Game Recap

[Boric Glanduum]

March 9, 2013

Malgrim’s journey from Shadowdale to Starmantle was uneventful. Even the trip across the Dragonmere from Suzail to Starmantle was quiet, despite Malgrim’s concerns over the seaworthiness of the craft. Most of the trip was spent whetting his axes and belt knife.

Upon his arrival in Starmantle, Malgrim was greeted by an elf, a gnome, and a human. There were some basic introductions, but hardly more than a quick sharing of names. The rest of the group claimed to have been waiting for him. Privately, Malgrim thought they protested a bit too much; they’d likely beaten him to Starmantle by only a short time. The elf took specific notice of the pin fastened to Malgrim’s cloak. The elf caught the dwarf’s eye and nodded in recognition. This was likely the contact that The Rogue sent, Malgrim thought to himself.

Together the group traveled straight to the estate of the Magistrate of Starmantle. The elf and gnome seemed to know where they were going. In fact the elf moved the foursome along at a rapid enough pace that expanded introductions were nearly impossible. In fact, Malgrim found it difficult to even speak a simple request to slow down, let alone detailed sentences.

Upon arriving at the estate, and having made their way to the Magistrate’s home, the elf rang the bell. A well-dressed human opened the door. Looking out at the travelers, the butler’s nose lifted in the air. “And what is it you want?” he asked. The foursome was dirty and looking quite tired and worn from the road.

The elf met the butler’s bluster and arrogant stride for stride. They were of a similar height and battled to see whose nose could rise the highest. “We are here to see the Magistrate.”

“What makes you think he’ll see you?” The butler gave a slight shake to his head in the negative.

“We were summoned.”

“Of course you were. I only needed to make sure.” The butler showed them inside, his manner still suggesting the group was less than welcome on the premises. The butler led them into a grand room of lush carpets, fine furnishings, and bright sunlight. The four spread around one end of the room, the gnome going so far as to seat himself upon a credenza in a cross-legged pose. The butler announced them, then turned and introduced the occupant of the room as Charles, the Magistrate of Starmantle. Charles was himself a large man and rose from his chair to express his greetings.

“I wish you each to take a moment and introduce yourselves, both to me and to each other. Tell me a bit about your background, your specialties, and from whence you come. After all, if I’m going to hire you, I want to make sure all the necessary skills and talents are present in your group.” He nodded at the elf to go first.

“I am E'liarsin. You may call me ‘Eli’ if you wish. I am trained in the Blade and have come, most recently, from Teuveamanthar.” He turned to stare at the human, focusing the room’s attention on the man.

“I am Solaster. I am a wanderer. I have been trained in the healing arts, among other things, and have answered the call of my god to be of whatever aid I can to this endeavor.”

“And you, master gnome? In the back there?” Charles pointed to the credenza at the back of the room. “Go ahead; give us some information.”

The gnome glanced around. “I go by the name of Trident. I acquire things.” The gnome folded his arms and looked quite pleased with himself.

Malgrim gave the gnome a quick glance up and down. Turning to Charles and looking at each of the other three as he did so, said, “I have taken upon myself the name of Malgrim Irontomb. I also...acquire...things.” Solaster looked at Malgrim with a raised eyebrow and said, “Beardless, eh? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.” Malgrim fixed the human with his stare until Solaster colored slightly and looked away.

Seeing that he was going to get little else from the foursome, Charles nodded. “It appears from your brief statements that you have most if not all of the skills I need for this job. Now, I wish you to meet one other person. You and you,” he pointed at Eli and Trident,” probably will recognize her.” At those words, seemingly from nowhere, a shapely half-elf appeared from the corner of the room. None of the foursome had seen here before Charles’ announcement.

Upon seeing her, Eli’s face brightened. “Tymora! How fare thee?” The half-elf walked to Eli’s side and clasped his arm. “It is good to see you again, E'liarsin. I am well and trust your journey was uneventful?” Eli nodded. “Good, my friend. Now, let me tell you why you are here.”

The half-elf looked to Charles as if for permission; he nodded and she began to speak. The two of them wove a tale of intrigue and thievery–a tale of the theft of a lucky charm dating back to the very foundation of Starmantle. A band of orcs reputedly committed the theft, although none are quite sure as to their motive. No one alive seemed to have any idea as to what the block of stone actually did, save that it radiated magic. Charles and Tymora together charged the foursome with the recovery of the stone, offering 2000 gold pieces apiece for their work. The foursome quickly agreed, what with the promise of gold, especially such a goodly sum, for an apparently easy recovery.

Tymora handed Eli a map and Charles promises the use of horses to the two in the group who lacked mounts. He also offered the use of two pack horses to carry their supplies and to carry the stone upon its recovery and return. Tymora indicated that she needed to leave; she told Charles, “I have to get back; you know how Detrick is. If I’m not around, he just can’t function by himself.” Charles grinned; Tymora looked at the foursome, her face grave. “If you ever repeat that to anyone, I’ll deny it and then hunt each of you down.” She turned back to Charles and gave him another grin. “Do you have anything you need taken back to the Boss?” When Charles shook his head, she gave the Magistrate a quick hug, nodded to the foursome, and sprinted from the room.

While Charles sent to have the horses perpared, Eli & Trident wandered off into Starmantle in search of a specific magic scroll. Malgrim, his purse emptied by his trip south from Shadowdale, had no interest in shopping. Instead, he suggested to the Magister’s butler that “perhaps a drink or two was in order to settle the dust of the road.” The young dwarf followed the butler from the room, leaving Solaster in the room. Malgrim was well into his fifth mug when the elf and gnome returned to the Magister’s estate, looking quite pleased with themselves. He overheard a snippet of their conversation, saying something about learning a new spell. These magic users, he thought. I’ll never understand them.

----

A few hours later the foursome set out from the Magistrate’s estate, their emotions high. Confident in their pending success, they rode quickly and made good time; before long a small village came into view. The villagers, seeing the riders, scattered and attempted to hide, mostly failing in their attempts. The elf easily cornered a human youth who cowered before the riders. Eli spoke softly to the boy, winning him over with his honeyed words and easy charm; while the boy would likely never be friends with the elf, at least he was willing to talk. The boy stammered out an explanation: the villagers were frightened of the foursome because they “carried weapons.” Upon further questioning, the boy revealed the presence in the area of what he called “pig beings.” The four riders looked from one to another: such a description can only mean orcs. They found, however, that the boy knew nothing else, only that the orcs were in the area and were raiding the nearby hamlets.

Upon looking at Tymora’s map, the group agreed to press on, seeking to race the dusk to a forested area atop a nearby waterfall. The road narrowed as it rose in elevation; the trees more closely hemmed in the road. The sun had nearly set when Malgrim signaled to the others. “This is the best we’re going to get, I’m afraid. If we go on much further, we’ll be sleeping on the road itself.” Three of them began to set up camp while the elf hobbled the horses. A quick supper of trail rations finished the day. Trident volunteered for the first watch while Malgrim would take the second watch. Solaster chimed in for the third watch, wanting to greet the dawn; Malgrim fell asleep to the sound of Solaster’s praising the sun. It seemed to be only a few moments later when Malgrim felt the gnome shake his shoulder.

“An uneventful night, so far, dwarf. Nearly fell asleep myself, I did.” The gnome crawled into his bedroll while Malgrim shrugged into his chain shirt and pulled his tunic on over his head. He stamped his way over to the remnants of the fire and warmed his hands over the coals. Malgrim sat, his back to the fire, and stared out into the night; he sat that way, his eyes and head slowly moving back and forth watching the tree line. Hours had passed and the stars had turned in the sky, when the noise of a snapping branch caught his attention; a rustling sound brought the dwarf to one knee. In the light of a three-quarter moon, Malgrim could just make out a moving shadow just outside the line of the closest trees. He plucked a pebble from the ground and tossed it at the elf.

Eli awoke, alert, and read Malgrim’s hand signals. He, in turn, reached over and woke Solaster who woke the gnome. Trident quickly began casting a spell as he saw Malgrim leave the fireside and scurry off into the trees. Releasing his magic, a group of lights appeared near the shadowy figure, dancing around and illuminating the nearest tree line. The shadowy figure became two, and then more, as they resolved into goblins. Trident looked again, but could no longer see the dwarf.

Malgrim had moved away from the camp and into the trees in an effort to flank the goblins. Deep in the undergrowth, shouts in goblin-tongue and cries of pain in the Common speech reached his ears. He resisted the temptation to watch the opening scenes of the battle and instead concentrated on not being seen or heard. Saying a silent prayer to Hanseath for his colleagues’ safety–and his own stealth–he moved through the darkness. He crept like a cat through the trees, like a cat stalking a mouse; of course, this mouse could inflict great damage on the cat if allowed to do so.

In the clearing, the battle raged with javelins and arrows flying. Steel and iron flashed in the dancing lights. The dwarf kept his focus: the sounds of battle would distract his prey. Malgrim’s concentration paid off as he crept up on a goblin warrior readying his bow. With two quick axe strikes, the dwarf first hamstrung the small, twisted creature and then cut its throat. A gurgling cry escaped the goblin’s lips as he died. A shout in goblin-tongue rang from the forest and Malgrim knew he had been discovered. All he could do is move and move quickly; he ran towards the goblin’s shout and his axes found another target. The goblin fell to the ground, lifeless. Malgrim looked around to find there were no other goblins standing.

There was a single goblin left breathing, however, Trident and Solaster had captured one and were attempting to question it. Malgrim walked over and began to translate the gnome’s threats into goblin-tongue. The interrogation offered up little useful information, which came only by the use of coercive magic. Malgrim used a length of the goblins’ own rope to gag and tie the survivor to a tree while the others collected and readied the horses.

----

Dawn found the foursome tying up the horses and hiding their packs. A short distance away they had spied a mountain fortress. Eli and Malgrim stole their way closer to the stronghold; the road led up to a heavy, iron-reinforced oaken door, to all appearances set firmly and deeply into the cliff face. To the right of the door was a 20-foot-tall tower. The first floor of the tower was ringed with arrow slits, while the top of the tower was crenellated. Just visible between the merlons were two orcs. Malgrim could see the orcs’ armor was remarkably well-maintained and looked superior to that he’d normally expect to see orcs using. He nudged the elf. “They look bored,” he said. “Bored, but unusually clean. That’s good armor they’ve got. These aren’t your normal rock-trash orcs.”

Eli nodded and crept back to the others. He returned shortly, followed by the gnome and human. A few minutes’ discussion resulted in a plan: take the tower first, and by taking the tower, gain access to the stronghold. Both Trident and Malgrim agreed that there was little chance of getting through the door, certainly not without being seen first. The sparse vegetation provided little or no cover to advance on the tower, so Eli would have to be the first to assault as he was the quickest. Solaster readied a spell that would, it was hoped, keep the orcs atop the tower from taking any actions or sounding the alarm.

Malgrim and Eli looked at each other and nodded slightly. Malgrim touched Solaster’s arm and nodded; the human stood from his cover and cast his spell. The two orcs jolted to attention and turned around to peer into surrounding brush. One pointed and yelled, raising his crossbow: Solaster had been seen. Crossbow bolts began to rain down. Malgrim huddled behind one lone tree while the others attempted to dodge the falling bolts. The orcs saw their movements and soon all three were being targeted. The dwarf did nothing else but concentrate on not moving and not being seen. He was vaguely aware of hearing the sound of bolts impacting wood, metal, and flesh, as they struck the surrounding brush, his compatriot’s shields, and his compatriots themselves. His eyes closed, he was unaware of who was being hit–or nearly hit.

A stray breeze rustled through Malgrim’s cloak; the fabric billowed out from behind his tree. The orcs yelled and Malgrim knew he had been spotted. He opened his eyes, coming out of his reverie, to realize Eli was gone. Solaster whispered out that he had magicked his way to the top of the tower. Well, I’ve been seen, thought Malgrim. I suppose there’s nothing else but to run at the tower. Aloud he said, “Follow when you can, human...gnome. Both of you. I suspect the elf’s going to need some help.” Ducking another pair of crossbow bolts, Malgrim ran toward the tower.

As he drew closer, Malgrim could see that the tower was constructed of large, rough-hewn blocks of stone. Between the rough stone and the arrow-slits, Malgrim was already mapping out a route to the top before he had reached the tower. Guildmaster Orizer had taught him to climb and climb well; he took the wall at a dead run and leaped up to grab onto the stone. Already several feet in the air, he began to grab for handholds and footholds. From above him an orc yelled, “Here comes one!” Malgrim suddenly felt as if a tower stone had dropped on him, then a sharp stabbing pain in his left shoulder; through the shock and pain he barely hung on to the tower. He glanced over and saw a crossbow bolt sticking from his chest, just below his shoulderblade. The dwarf shook his head twice to clear it, gritted his teeth, and continued to climb.

Reaching the top of the tower, Malgrim took a deep breath and heaved himself up and between two merlons. To his surprise, he found only one orc there; I’m certain that’s the one that shot me, as he’s still holding his crossbow, he thought. His foe was obviously ensorcelled. Malgrim looked out toward Solaster’s hiding place and waved. The orc remained motionless as the dwarf drew an axe, ended the orc’s life, and pushed the still-motionless corpse over the battlements to fall to the ground below.

Drawing his second axe, Malgrim moved to the stairway and peered around the corner. The stairway was empty so the dwarf crept downward. When he came to the bottom of the stairs, Malgrim found himself immediately behind Eli who was facing a number of angry orcs; several orcs were at Eli’s feet either dead or dying. Malgrim could see flashes of the gnome as Trident ran around the tower appearing at one arrow slit and then another, firing spells inside. Seeing an opening, Malgrim ducked around Eli to finish off an orc who was about to strike the elf.

The dwarf looked around and saw that the other orcs were still out of range. In one movement he dropped an axe and drew his hand crossbow, checking as he did so that the bow’s strap was around his torso and shoulder. Malgrim fired into the crowd of orcs, striking one deep in the neck and grinning in satisfaction as he watched the wounded orc stumble backwards against the wall. An orc bearing a guisarme stepped from the crowd and struck the elf. Malgrim heard Eli cry out, then the elf stumbled at his side.

Malgrim saw the elf pick up a discarded guisarme from the ground. “Follow me, dwarf, up the stairs.” The elf slipped around the dwarf and up several stairs. Malgrim now faced a roomful of orcs, with even more pushing their way up the hallway and stairs leading down out of the room. The dwarf sighed, and let the crossbow fall from his grasp, the strap slapping the weapon against his side. He stooped to one knee to pick up his second axe and moved back a step, stopping when he bumped into Eli on the bottom step.

A voice rang out in orc-tongue. “Keep them busy. I’m coming!” Their courage renewed, the orcs in the room surged forward. Using his axes like a shield, Malgrim blocked one guisarme blow after another. Time and again he caught the polearms between his crossed axes; time and again he threw the polearms away from him. He knew that the longer he deflected their blows and kept them off balance, the more time Eli would have to catch his breath. He also knew that where he stood in the stairway, only two foes could come at him at any one time.

From behind Malgrim, Eli laid out his plans aloud. “Let us move upwards a bit, then I’ll drop the polearm here and tumble around you. We will leapfrog; grab the polearm when I move and attack from behind me when you get there.” Following the elf’s suggestion and lead, Malgrim took a few steps backwards and upwards. Their foes’ field of attack was lessened, although the guisarmes hammered downward blow after blow. Malgrim continued to shunt the orcs’ attacks aside until, distracted by the mumbling of a spell from behind him, he allows a thrown javelin to slip through his guard. The thrown spear glanced off his shoulder and knocked him to the side of the stairway.

Malgrim heard the clatter of a weapon from behind him. “Now, friend dwarf! I come!” A suddenly rejuvenated elf leaps and caroms off the walls of the stairwell to land in front of the dwarf. Even more orcs swept into the room, one a very obvious spell-caster. If only I had time to reload my bow. Malgrim eyed the orc mage. Just give me a shot or two at him. He means trouble. Malgrim shook his head as an orc yelled out, “Gruumsh is here!” and pointed out an arrow slit. The dwarf peered around Eli and could just make out a giant humanoid figure outside the tower. Again, a wave of courage flowed over the orcs and they surged forward again.

Over the chorus of orcish yells, Malgrim and Eli hear the gnome call out; they both flinched as a ball of light exploded right in front of the orc mage. Blinking their eyes, the pair look back towards the spell-caster. The spell had not affected the mage so far as they could see. All around them, however, are cries in orc-tongue. Malgrim quickly translated for the elf. “They’re all blind. They can’t see. Now’s our chance; move, elf! Move!”

Despite the afterimages still flashing in their eyes, the dwarf and the elf move almost as if they were one creature. Eli struck the orc mage with a powerful sword-strike; Malgrim followed up with a seemingly fatal axe-blow to the mage’s chest. A blast of colored light struck the mage and the orc slumped to the ground. Malgrim looked over his shoulder; Trident waved at him from an arrow slit.

Malgrim is knocked aside as an orc warrior shouts, “Master!” and grabs the orc mage. The warrior tumbles down the stairs and out of sight. Eli’s gaze hardens as he looks down the stairway. “More orcs are coming, dwarf. A lot of orcs. Run, Malgrim! Flee!” The elf pushed Malgrim before him and moved towards the tower steps. The dwarf sprinted up the steps, taking them two and three at a time, up and around the tower, reaching the top in time to see Solaster lowering himself over the battlements. Without pausing, Malgrim leaped to a crenel and jumped away from the tower, tumbling in a somersault as he struck the ground. He jumped to his feet in time to see Eli execute a similar jump and roll nearby. “We’re going to feel that in the morning,” Malgrim shouted at the elf, who raised his hand in a wave. “To the horses!”

Joined by the gnome, the foursome sprinted for the cover of the trees and retreated to their horses. Fearing an onslaught of orc warriors from the stronghold, Eli led the group away from the fortress and into the forest. “It was not the best of plans,” Eli said under his breath. “No, ‘twas not,” Malgrim replied from the elf’s side, shaking his head. “ ‘Twas not, to be sure. But I can see no other way into that hold. Certainly not through the door.”

Further discussion was swallowed up by the quiet as the group passed into the gloom of the forest.