Session #14
Markle sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He looked relaxed. Ratchis had never seen him smile so much.
“So what’d ya do? Strangle her?” Markle asked Ratchis, who sat uncomfortably on the cot that groaned beneath his weight.
“I am accused of defacing the king’s trophies in the Trophy Room,” Ratchis replied.
Markle laughed, “Did you do it? Don’t worry I won’t judge you poorly.”
Ratchis did not reply. There was a long silence.
“So, what did she tell you?” Markle asked. Again, Ratchis did not reply.
“Look, there is no reason for us not to talk. I did what I had to do, you did what you felt you had to do. I hold no grudge. So, I am going to prison. I have been in prison before, most of my life actually. I adapt,” Markle looked through the bars at Ratchis, still smiling.
“If you tell me what Jana knew when I can tell you what she told me,” Ratchis replied.
“Heh, well, she never knew exactly what we were going to do, but she knew when and she was to help us keep you guys from getting involved,” said Markle. “She was supposed to be paying back a favor I did for her.”
“Since Jana didn’t do such a good job for you, perhaps you can tell me what favor you did for her?” Ratchis proposed.
Markle laughed again, “Well, turn about is fair play and all. Just ask her this, I bet she doesn’t even think I know about this… Ask her who Rindalith is.”
“Who is he?”
“Just ask her. Did you know that she was placing you and your whole group in jeopardy? In danger? She is,” Markle said with a smirk.
Ratchis thought about what Markle said and eventually fell asleep sitting up.
------
As Kazrack hammered at the party’s armor, and Beorth spent his day in the shrine of Ra, and Jana sat bored in her room, while Chance spent his free time trying to start up card games with the other “hunters” and Martin went over his list again and again, Jeremy went out to meet with Princess Tracell one last time.
It was just after mid-day meal, and he had only been waiting a short time in the increasingly cold wind when he saw here approach with her ladies-in-waiting. They waited at a safe distance as she and Jeremy stepped between tall and now-barren rose bushes.
“Oh, Jeremy,” Tracell said breathily, her face obscure a bit by a woolen scarf. “It is so good to see you again.”
“Oh yeah, well… It was just yesterday and I spied you across the way at dinner,” Jeremy replied.
“Ooh! I knew you were looking at me!” Tracell said. “I wasn’t sure, but I should have known.”
It was quiet for a long moment and she blushed.
“So, um, do you have the mug?’ Jeremy asked.
“I told you it’d have to wait a day,” she said, with furrowed brow.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry. I am just distracted by my coming journey and by um, you… uh, of course.”
She blushed again. “Will you be leaving soon?”
“I think we are leaving tomorrow some time, but we haven’t discussed it much. My companions are all about doing their own thing.”
“They are probably waiting for your leadership and guidance,” speculated Tracell.
“Probably.”
-----
Martin the Green came downstairs and after asking around found Daniel giving orders in the Dining Hall. He waited until the castle steward was done and then approached him.
“I have completed my list of needed supplies for my journey,” the Watch-Mage said. “I know some of these things will not be available, but I figured I would try.”
“Okay,” said Daniel, looking distracted. “I will see to this as soon as I can. When do you plan to leave?”
“I think we will be ready tomorrow,” said Martin. “Oh, and I was also hoping for a mule or donkey to help carry my gear.”
“That can be arranged,” said Daniel. “Oh, and you might be interested to know that one of you would-be companions has been taken into custody.”
“Oh? Who and for what?” Martin said, nervously.
“I believe his name is Ratchis? The big one,” said Daniel. “It is a shame really, but he has been accused of defacing the orcish trophies in the Trophy Room.”
“Oh,” was all Martin could say.
“Well, it should be all cleared up one way or another soon enough,” said Daniel. “The others should still be more than enough people to escort you to Summit. But before you leave, make sure you come and find me. I will have some last minute instructions and a token from the king to take with you.”
“Of course,” said Martin.
“Speaking of which, the case that was found on that warlock that you and the others captured has been brought to your room for you to examine. His Majesty has said you can do with it what you like,” added Daniel.
“Oh, oh, thank you,” said Martin the Green, forgetting all about Ratchis in his curiosity and rushing back up to his room.
He found a servant with the black valise waiting by his door about to knock. Thanking her, her took the bag into his room, placed it on a table and slowly opened it.
“What’s that?” a chittering voice said in his mind. “Smells funny.”
Martin could feel his familiar crawling up on to the top of his head.
“I’m about to find out what it is, Thomas,” replied Martin.
“Nuts? Could there be nuts in there?”
“I doubt it.” Martin the Green looked inside to find the bag built to hold things securely, with little movement and no breakage.
The bag held two bottles of wine. One was half empty, but the other was still tightly corked and full. They had no labels. It also held two wine glasses in a recess designed to cushion them. The case also held on one side a smaller box that he opened to reveal an alchemist’s kit. There was a silver candle-holder and several candles, most were burned down to a nub, but there were a few unused specimens. The bag also held a velvet pillow, some fine clothing and a small red leather bag tied beneath the lid.
Martin spread several items from the valise on the bed and cast his Detect Magic spell, but only the leather bag had any aura of magic.
Martin picked up the bag and looked inside. It was empty.
“Nuts?” Thomas chittered.
“Quiet now, I’m working,” Martin admonished. He slipped his hand into the bag and felt a fuzzy ball at the bottom. He pulled his hand out and looked inside. There was no such thing. He slid his hand in again and again and felt the fuzzy ball. He grasped the ball and pulled it slowly out and opened his hand. It was gone!
He repeated his experiment with the same results.
“What’s in there?” Thomas asked again, sniffing.
“I’m not sure,” Martin said to the squirrel, taking a moment to scratch his head. “Let me try something else.”
Martin slid his hand back into the bag and grabbed the fuzzy ball and this time yanked it out, tossing what was in his hand away from him. The tiny ball of hair spun in the air and grew and changed. It landed on the bed as a bobcat. It had dark brown fur with deep rust highlights. Thomas dove into Martin’s hood, and the Watch-Mage himself flinched. However, the animal just cocked his head and looked at Martin, as if waiting.
“Now, just sit right there,” Martin said, nervously. The bobcat sat.
Martin’s eyes opened widely.
“Stand up,” he said to the cat. It stood.
“Roll over!” The cat rolled over.
“Hmmmm,” Martin the Green mused. “Turn back into a fuzzy ball!”
The bobcat cocked its head again.
“Um, get back in the bag!” said Martin, holding it open. The cat leapt and reversed his transformation, and disappeared into the red leather bag.
Martin felt back in the bag and there was another fuzzy ball.
“Fascinating…”
---------
The day passed without further event. Jeremy sparred some with Beorth. Kazrack worked until he could do it no longer, and Jana sat bored in her room. Ratchis awoke with a start when he heard the sound of keys in a cell’s metal lock. Markle was being moved.
“Your turn to be taken to the lower dungeons, scum,” said a guard.
Markle turned to Ratchis, “Until we meet again.”
“You won’t be meeting anyone ever again,” said the guard pushing Markle roughly.
“Oh, I know” said Markle with a grin.
Ratchis yawned, and stretched out on the floor, knowing to save his energy whenever he could.
Ratchis had long been awake, watching the tiny square of sunlight move across the floor of his cell, when the Captain of the Guard, accompanied by two other guards came to him.
The cell was unlocked.
“Come on,” the Captain said. “Today is your lucky day. It seems that someone else confessed to the crime. You are being released.”
Ratchis said nothing and got to his feet.
“Follow me,” said the Captain and led him back up to the office.
As Ratchis ducked his head through the doorway, he saw a lovely figure standing there waiting for them. She was draped in a fine ermine wrap, and stood nearly six feet tall, her dark hair tucked in a fur hat. She wore a blouse of tan cloth and a blouse that passed for “plain” in noble circles. She stepped towards Captain Merrick and Ratchis. It was Princess Selma.
Merrick dismissed the other two guards.
“Thank you, Captain,” the Princess said. Ratchis just stared at her, and then looked back at the Captain and then back at her.
“It appears that the Princess has confessed to defacing the specimens,” Captain Merrick said with some anger in his voice, but not looking at Ratchis, who he was addressing. “This is now a situation to be handled in private by the king. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” said Ratchis, nodding and still looking at the Princess. She did not smile.
“You are free to go,” the Captain said.
“Captain, please give us a moment alone to talk,” the Princess said, looking at Ratchis.
“But your Highness!” The Captain protested.
“That was not a suggestion, Captain,” the Princess said, sternly.
The Captain’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Ratchis, pointing a finger at him. “Do not forget you are in the presence of royalty!”
He walked out.
“Thank you,” Ratchis said.
“You owe me more than thanks,” the Princess said. “I just wanted you to know that as far as I am concerned I just saved your life and as such you owe me a great deal. I’m not sure in what way you are going to repay me, but it never hurts to have a big guy who can fight owing you a favor. Understand?”
Ratchis nodded.
“Good, now get out of here before he changes his mind, or I do.”
Back in the castle, the rest of the companions were coming down for a late breakfast, enjoying the comfort of a good bed for one last night. Martin was so late, eventually a servant brought him a tray of food, while Kazrack rushed down, afraid he’d miss out on food. He bumped into Ratchis, who was slowly coming up the circular stairs.
“We should leave today,” said Ratchis without enthusiasm.
“I will be forced to travel with the group for the next two days at least,” said Kazrack.
“About Jana: despite what she did, I think we should give her a second chance,” said Ratchis. “While I do think she betrayed us, I think if she had it to do over she’d do it different.”
“I have not decided what I will do after that. It seems that going off on my own would not be more profitable,” was the dwarf’s only reply, and with that he continued on to breakfast.
---
While the companions spent the day in preparation and at noon, Princess Tracel nervously anticipated for her last meeting with Jeremy. At noon she waited in the garden for her would-be hero to come to her. She had though to him all night.
She smiled broadly at him as he approached, and she took a step as well, standing closer than she had ever dared before.
“Do you have the mug,” he said, his eyebrows arching in a meaningful way.
“Yes. Yes, I do, and another gift, if you’ll take it,” She looked long and hard in his eyes, her love searching out for the reflection of his own.
“Um, uh . . . of course,” Jeremy said, with a tone of confidence only she could hear.
“Here is the mug with the name of your lost companion,” Tracel said, her voice ringing brightly like a bell of admiration. She stepped even closer, forgetting herself. “I had a servant retrieve it. I find your cherishing the memory of your brother-in-arms very heroic.”
She handed him the mug. It was wrapped up in tissue papers. He slid it in his pocket without looking at it.
“Thank you,” he said, trying hard to conceal his emotions from her, as she looked on knowing the true deep appreciation in his heart. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I have something else for you,” Princess Tracell said, her eyes wandering down his face, to his square jaw and his neck that flowed into strong and manly shoulders.
“Oh, what is it?” He feigned surprise.
“I want to ask you a question first,” she said, breathlessly. “If you succeed… If you slay the dragon… Will you come back for me? Will you choose me from among my sisters?”
There was a moment of silence between them, and the increasingly wicked and cold wind was the only sound, as if they dared not even breathe in this moment of love revealed.
“Uh, yes,” Jeremy said, with the kind of sincerity only a true romantic could clothe a word in.
“Oh, oh, Jeremy!” she cried, warm tears rolling down her red, cold cheeks like crisp late autumn apples. “I am so happy.”
She looked around surreptitiously, and then placed a small kiss on his cheek.
“Was that it?” he said, his blue eyes sparkling.
“Oh, you are kind to say that a simple kiss from me would be a gift,” Princess Tracel said. “But, I have a token to take with you on your quest, as every good knight who has a lady should do.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Jeremy said, looking hard at her face.
She drew a white article of clothing from he bosom and placed it in his hand. It felt very silky.
“It is to be wore outside your armor, or tied to the saddle of your horse,” Tracel said, remember the many tales of knights and maidens she had heard from her nanny. “But being from Neergaard, I’m sure you already know that.”
“Yes, of course,” Jeremy said, obviously too overcome with the moment to say anymore.
“Well, I am sure you have much preparation to see to before you leave today,” Tracel said, thinking herself very reasonable.
“Yes. Uh, yeah, I’ll see you when I get back,” Jeremy said, too shy to reveal everything he was feeling.
“When you come riding in upon a white stallion to claim me as your wife?” Tracel said, her smile widening again.
“Yuh-yeah,” said Jeremy, leaning forward as if it were a shared lovers’ secret. She took the moment to kiss him again, and then covering her mouth as she tittered with a joy she had never known, she ran off.
Jeremy watched her for a moment and then walked back into the castle. He caught a glimpse of the first flakes of snow as he entered. Up in his room, he looked at what Princess Tracel gave him. It was a piece of satin one underwear. He rolled his eyes, and tied it haphazardly to the scabbard of his long sword, and then slid it back on his belt so his cloak would cover it most of the time.
He proceeded to unwrap the mug and looked at it. Carved in one side were the letters, “M-A-L-C-O-M.”
“Hmm, spelled wrong,” Jeremy said to himself, but then lifted the mug in the air. “Oh, well. Malcolm would never have known it anyway. From now on we always drink together, until we have drinks at your place!”
-----
The companions spent some time taking care of last minute details before leaving. Kazrack strapped his almost ridiculous amount of equipment to his back and walked out to the front gate.
“Ho, there!” said one of the castle guards. “What is your business at the gate?”
“I want to leave the castle and go to town,” said the laden dwarf, large flakes of snow swirled around him.
“None may leave the castle grounds without their group and none may return until their mission is accomplished,” said the guard.
“But I am only going to town to buy supplies and sell off some other goods,” said Kazrack.
“The Crown will provide you with supplies when you register your group,” said the guard.
Kazrack sighed, annoyed and returned to the castle proper.
Jeremy and Beorth came down the stairs carrying their packs, going to meet the others and register.
“You know Beorth, I was thinking you should put your foot down and not let Jana travel with us,” said Jeremy.
“Excuse me?” Beorth looked at Jeremy in bewilderment.
“She’s a witch!” said Jeremy, lowering his voice. “You know what that means! She summons demons and bends them to her will. She can ensorcell men, and do all sorts of mean, terrible nasty things.”
“I have never seen Jana do any of that,” said Beorth.
“How do we know we haven’t been enspelled already?”
“I’ll keep you opinion in mind, but it isn’t my place to say she can or cannot travel with us,” said Beorth.
“Well, I, for one, plan to watch her closely,” Jeremy insisted as they came into the dining room, where Chance and Ratchis waited.
“Where are the others?” asked Ratchis.
“I am right here,” Kazrack said, entering the room.
“Jana is still upstairs,” said Jeremy.
“And Martin had to talk to the steward before we left. He said to meet him outside,” Beorth informed them.
“I’ll get Jana,” said Ratchis, which he immediately did.
“Jana, we are ready to leave,” the half-orc said to the girl who was still packing her things.
“I am coming,” she replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder and moving towards him.
“We can talk about your friend Rindalith later,” said Ratchis curtly and turned to lead the way.
Jana stopped in her tracks, and her eyes opened widely. After a moment, she regained her composure and followed.
----
In the dining room, the five of them registered their group, an assistant to Daniel the Castle Steward taking their names.
“What do you call yourselves?” he asked. “I mean, does your group have a name?”
”We don’t have a name,” said Beorth.
“We are the Warriors of the House Divided,” said Kazrack.
“What?” the steward asked.
“Warriors of the House Divided,” Kazrack said again, and it was written down.
“Thassa stupid name,” Chance said.
“Your gear will be waiting for you in the courtyard,” said the steward.
“What supplies do we get?” Kazrack asked.
“The same as everyone else.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know.”
----
They met up with Martin the Green and their supplies (2 weeks rations, gallon of water, 1 flask of lamp oil, flint & steel, and a woolen winter blanket) in the courtyard, and cold half hour wait for Martin’s mule and possessions to be brought out by a stable boy. The tension in the air was palpable, as no one in the group said a word to each other. Finally, they were off, Martin feeling the weight of a golden medallion that bore the king’s sigil and a letter of introduction in his breast pocket.
As they came through the gate, the party turned right, using a narrow path that went down into the ravine about the castle and then back up into the nearby mountains. However, Kazrack did not turn and continued on straight into town.
No one said a word.
Ratchis led the way, and Beorth, Jana, Chance, Jeremy and Martin (fighting with his mule the whole way) followed. The snow came down harder and harder. The wind whipping it up into their faces, as they marched right into it. They had only gone a few hours when they decided they had to stop. The castle would still have been in view if it had not been for the snow, but Ratchis found a rock ledge that formed a shelter that would do for the night. It was even tall and deep enough to allow the mule to get out of the weather as well. The remains of a fire showed that they were not the first to use this place for such a purpose.
Ratchis started a fire, as Jana tried to show Martin how to handle the mule a bit. They discussed their aims, and decided they’d try to get to Summit via Ram’s Head.
About two and a half hour later, Kazrack arrived.
“I thought you left the group,” said Jeremy.
“I went to town to sell off my old armor,” said the dwarf. “I told Ratchis I would be traveling with the group as far as Summit.”
Ratchis was silent.
Watches were set for the night, and no one spoke hardly a word to each other. On his watch, Jeremy sat by Jana and watched her very closely.
Tholem, 11th of Syet
In the very early morning, Ra’s Glory reflected from just over a half-foot of snow all about them. The air was crisp and whispered unintelligibly across the snow’s surface, occasionally sending cascades from the rock ledge above them.
They ate a cold breakfast, packed up the mule and began their journey north by northwest towards the alder-village of Ram’s Head (according to the map they had been given) in order to avoid the Ogre Scar. (10)
Ratchis, Jana, Chance, Beorth, Jeremy, Kazrack and Martin marched half the day, slowly move up the mountain, through deeper and deeper snow. Ratchis led the way, pushing through the show with his long muscular legs, and setting a pace the others found exhausting. In time they came to the edge of tall ravine about 120 feet across. It was crossed by a rickety rope bridge, that swayed in the wind that came whipping down the canyon. The mule brayed nervously, and as the party discussed the safety of the bridge, Jeremy took it upon himself to test it out.
He slowly made his way across the bridge, his weight lessening the wild bucking, but still it swayed, and he was about halfway across when losing his balance, he slipped face first onto the bridge, his feet dangling over the side. The bottom of the ravine was over 100 feet below him.
The party watched in horror as he struggled to get back up on the bridge and then crawled slowly to the other side. He stood and turned.
“The bridge is fine!” Jeremy called across. “Come across one at a time!”
“Come back!” called Ratchis. “The mule will never make it across that.”
“It will be fine. Mules are sure-footed!”
“We have to go another way. Come back!”
“Fine!”
Jeremy stepped onto the bridge, thought it over and then got back down on his hands and knees and crawled safely across.
“The mule could have made it,” he said on the other side.
“Excuse me if I don’t take your word for it,” said Ratchis.
“I will have to speak to Alderman of Ram’s Head about this bridge,” noted Martin. “This is unacceptable.”
-------
The party headed back southward at a quicker pace, and while it the sun had started to sink by the time they got back to where they had camped the night before, they pressed on towards the village of Three-Trees to stay the night there. They moved down into the valley and found a themselves walking through large orchards, with tiny mal-formed apples frozen on the limbs of trees.
The village was a tiny collection of cottages, guarded by log bunkers guarded by lightly-armored soldiers with bows.
There was a small inn at the center of the village and the companions went in and lowered their aching forms around a table and ordered food and drinks and arranged for lodging for the night. Two middle-aged men sat at the bar talking, and one kept looking over his shoulder at the party as they talked.
“In the morning we will head north to Ram’s Head,” said Ratchis.
“From the map it looks like it is a longer way to Summit, but we will be able to avoid the Ogre Scar,” said Kazrack.
“Mind if I join you?” said a voice. They turned to see one of the two men. He had thinning brown hair, and a pot-belly. He wore nicely-kept clothes, and his skin looked darkened by the sun. He pulled up a chair “My name is Joseph the Brewer. Where are you all from?”
The group was silent for a moment.
“I take it you are one of these dragon-hunting groups?” Joseph continued. “I have seen a few of them traveling through last couple of days. I travel all throughout Gothanius selling my beers and ales, but I am wintering here in Three-Trees.”
“I’m from Neergaard,” replied Jeremy.
“Neergaard, huh? Had some Neergaardian mead once, good stuff. Not many dragons in Neergaard I assume, not with all the knights there and all,” Joseph reasoned. “But the dragon here, oh it’s a mean and scary one, that’s for certain.”
“You’ve seen the dragon?” said Kazrack, happy to have a possible lead.
“Oh yes,” Joseph said, his smile disappearing. “It was just this past summer.”
“What did it look like?” the dwarf questioned.
“It was fifty or sixty feet long, and bright green like Ra’s Glory shining of the muck of a pond in mid-Quark. (11) It came seemingly out of nowhere, attacked my little caravan. It breathed a jet of fire on wagon of ale and it just exploded. Everyone fled and scattered. It was terrible,” the brewer said.
“Were many people killed?” asked Martin the Green.
“None that I know of, but a good amount of property was destroyed. I lost that whole shipment. It cost me a bundle. I hope you get it,” Joseph said, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.
“No one was killed, fascinating,” mused Martin.
“In all the tales of dragons I have ever heard they usually kill a lot of people,” said Kazrack.
“Well, I don’t want to disturb you too much, but if you ever need ales of any kind, let me know. I brew all kinds of seasonal ones. In fact,” he turned to the barkeep. “Hey, Johnson, get these fine men (and lady) a round of that Pumpkin Ale on me.”
The night went by without event and the next day after a breakfast of oatmeal, they were headed northwest again
Balem, 12th of Syet – 564 H.E.
There was less wind this day, which made the cold bearable. They were crossing a snow-filled plain, and passed no signs of life. At mid-morning they crossed a stone bridge that went over what must be (according to the map) the Kelzain Stream. Ratchis then turned them on a more northerly course.
As the day waned they crossed wagon ruts running east/west in the hard earth, and further on they could see the tell-tale signs of civilization atop the nearby foothills. As they climbed up a steep trail Ratchis discovered, they could see the thatched roofs of yurts.
Ram’s Head was a village atop a plateau in the shadow of a tall dark mountain scored with paths and ledges. All the buildings were low round builds of log and thatch, with a corral nearby. The muddy streets were strewn with straw and the droppings of sheep and goats.
They knocked on a random door and Martin asked which house belonged to the Alderman, and followed the directions there, after finding out his name was Morrus..
Martin knocked on the door to the alderman’s Yurt. The voice of boy came from behind the door, “Who’s there?”
“My name is Martin the Green. I am a Watch-Mage and am working for King Brevelan Goth III. My companions and I have come to see the Alderman.”
There was a pause and then another, deeper, voice said, “Do you have proof you are who you say you are?”
“I have a letter of introduction from the King,” replied Martin.
“Slide it under the door,” the voice said.
Martin paused and looked at the others. Jana shrugged her shoulders, and then the Watch-Mage slid the letter beneath the door.
The waited a few moments and then finally the door slowly opened. A tall man with graying dark brown hair in rustic clothing of leather and wool answered the door. Ratchis immediately noticed the hand axe he held low to one side. He looked perhaps in his early forties, but his arms and chest looked very muscular, his face was care-worn.
“My name is Morrus. I am the alderman of Ram’s Head,” the man said, and then gestured to the boy of about fifteen years behind him. “This is my son William.”
The alderman handed the letter back to Martin and showed the party in. “I’m sorry about my initial greeting, but one cannot be too careful in this part of Gothanius,” Morrus said. “Between gnolls from the north and bandits, it can be very dangerous. But that is done with, I am sorry that my home is not as nice as some other alderman’s places, but Ram’s Head is a humble village. However, you are welcome to stay here the night.”
“We greatly appreciate your hospitality,” said Martin the Green.
“William,” said Morrus to his son. “Take care of their pack animal and then bring in more firewood.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said and ran out.
“Have a seat around the fire,” Morrus said to the group. “Make yourselves at home, though I’d like to learn all your names.”
The party spread out around the fire pit in the center of the one room building, and told the alderman their names.
The floor was dirt, but covered in fur blankets and burlap pillows. The smell of something cooking in a pot above the central fire, just barely smothered the smell of a barn.
“So you are the new Watch-Mage, and are on your way to Summit,” Morrus said.
“Yes, my companions are seeing that I get there safely, where I can help to aid and oversee the hunting of the dragon,” replied Martin.
“So Summit is getting a Watch-Mage then. It figures,” said Morrus with a sigh. “Aside from the dragon that place is relatively safe since the Orc War finished and pretty wealthy. Here in Ram’s Head, we struggle to just get by.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Of course, some aldermen have more favor than others. They are more popular, invited to Royal Balls and get whatever they want, while others suffer,” Morrus continued, until he caught himself. “Not that I am placing the blame in any one place. His Majesty the king, does a very good job, and I am sure he knows what he is doing sending you to Summit to overlook this project of his, but when it is done, I wonder what will become of you.”
“Well, I am only the interim Watch-Mage. I am sure such a decision will be made when the time is right and another alumnus of the Academy is assigned to Gothanius,” said Martin the Green.
Morrus stirred the contents of the pot and then began serving it into wooden bowls.
“It is a local favorite,” he said. “Stuffed intestines stewed in a black sauce.”
“We have something very similar in the part of Thricia where I am from,” said Martin.
William came back in and immediate began to pour the group wine from a gourd.
“You mentioned gnolls before, do they come to these parts often?” asked Ratchis.
“They come down from the north in the winter. The harsher the winter, the more frequent and devastating their attacks. They come looking for food, which can be livestock, but can also be people,” explained Morrus. “Every man in this village has learned to fight because of this and I lead the militia, but we still lose about a half dozen men every year, if not more.”
“Oh,” said Ratchis, and turned to his bowl of black steaming entrails.
The party ate hungrily and then their full stomachs and the warmth of the Yurt took over and they dropped off to sleep one by one.
Teflem, 13th of Syet – 564 H.E.
The wind woke them. It battered the thatched roof angrily, and sounded at times like a growl rolling across the sky.
“Good morning,” said Morrus, stirring the pot above the fire. “It is a gusty day out.”
The companions stretched and got their things ready and ate the re-heated stuffed intestines from the night before, now crusty from where it stuck to the bottom of the pot. Ratchis had seconds
“I was wondering if you know anything about the dragon,” asked Kazrack, as he crunched on the breakfast, and brushed crumbs from his beard.
“I don’t know much. It has not been seen this far north or east,” said Morrus. “I’d be curious to find out more about it myself.”
“Well, this man named Joseph told us he saw it attack his wagon. He said it was long and green,” said Martin.
“An brethed far,” added Chance, with his mouth full.
“Joseph? Joseph the Brewer?” Morrus asked, incredulity.
“Um, yes,” replied Martin.
“Well, I’m not calling him a liar, but I wouldn’t believe everything that man says. He has a heart of gold, but he has a tendency to exaggerate a bit.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Martin.
They thanked Morrus for his hospitality, and he welcomed them back anytime. They found William outside preparing Martin’s mule, and thanked him as well. The whipped like a cruel taskmaster, but they headed to the west by southwest, hoping to make Summit by mid-afternoon at the latest – but they had barely marched an hour when the gusts began to bring volleys of snow upon them.
Ratchis tried to pick the right direction and lead his companions to safety, but visibility was almost nothing and now the wind rarely stopped biting with its cold and cruel teeth. In time they came to a frozen stream that covered in snow was hard to spot, and led to wet feet. Ratchis turned them south, hoping to find an easier place to cross the stream and perhaps find a landmark that could help him find their place on the map. He knew they should find be finding a wood soon, and this either meant they were near the Ogre Scar or near Summit.
They finally crossed the stream, but Jana and Martin began to stumble and they could all feel the deep cold in their bones, except for Ratchis who had placed Nephthys’ blessing on himself to protect him from the elements. Only the deepening gloom let them know that evening was upon them, for they had not seen the sky for hours, all there was a uniform gray from horizon to horizon.
By the time the came to the treeline they were searching for, they were all stumbling a bit, and Chance was helping Jana to walk. Ratchtis led them a few score yards into the wood, and found them a tree to sit beneath. He and Kazrack worked to clear the snow out from under it, and then the half-orc took the last of the tinder he carried and built a small fire.
“I am going to explore a bit, while you all stay here,” said Ratchis. “Hopefully we are closer to Summit than to the Ogre Scar and we can make a last push. If we are near the Scar, we may need to get out of here anyway, so rest up and conserve your strength.”
With that he jogged off.
The others did what they could to warm up. There was not much wood for the fire, though Jeremy threw some pine cones into it. Beorth wrapped himself in a blanket.
Jana looked pale, and she shivered as she felt a sleepiness come over her.
“Are ya okay?” Chance asked her.
“I don’t feel so good,” she said groggily.
“Ya should wrap this a little tighter about ya” Chance said, pulling her cloak closed about her. “Sometimes feeling warm is all about being a little lucky,” he added with a wink and brushed her cheek with his hand. Suddenly, she felt he cold seep out of her body. It was as if it were no colder than an early autumn day.
“Luck?” said Kazrack. “It has nothing to do with luck.”
Jana smiled a Chance.
“Everything has ta do wit’ luck,” Chance said to the dwarf. “Jass sometimes ya gotta mek yer own luck.”
“What does that mean?” the dwarf asked.
“Et mens that ya gotta tek chaunces en life,” explained Chance. “Ya gotta give luck a chaunce ta kick in and help ya out. Et es not considered bad luck when ya try something crazy n’ it fails, but et es good luck when et sacc-seeds. Bad luck comes when ya don’t try anything.”
“That does not make any sense,” replied Kazrack.
“Et meks more sense than ya know.”
It was nearly two hours before Ratchis returned, and the fire had died out. The Friar of Nephthys had an armful of firewood and re-ignited the blaze.
“I found Summit nearby. The ridge it sits upon is only a mile or two away. We can definitely make it. Take off your boots and socks and put them, and your feet, by the fire to dry and then we’ll get moving.”
“Where’d you get the wood?” Jeremy asked. It looked cut and split.
“I borrowed it,” Ratchis replied.
The party warmed their feet by the fire, and then marched towards the tall ridge the town of Summit stood upon. The snow continued to pile up, and the dark town shimmered white in the places where light could be seen to peek through the windows of houses.
They walked up the main street, which ended in a square with a two-story inn at one end. As they entered, the warm place, they could see the carved sign that read “The Sun’s Summit Inn”.
Inside, the common room glowed with the light of the hearth, and of a few lanterns in the real glass pane windows. The bar was directly across from the entrance, and the hearth was against the right wall, where a bard strummed on a lyre and sang softly, flanked by a tall muscular man that rivaled Ratchis in size. There were about a half dozen table and benches, some of which were occupied. An elderly couple sat across from each other at a table to the right, while two men sat and ate and drank at the bar. Four figures sat at the table closest to the door and to the left.
The party took a table to the right of the door, across from the four who looked like they might be travelers as well. Two busty barmaids were serving the people in common room, and Martin went over to the barkeep, a man who appeared to young to have his steel grey hair to ask about rooms for the night.
The four men at the next table were being loud, or actually one was being loud (with interspersed laughter from another). He was tall, and had a long sword at his belt. He had dirty blonde hair, and well-kempt beard, and pale skin like Jeremy’s. He faced away from the door. Across from him was a short squat man with a bowl of thick black hair, and dark sun-soaked skin. He wore wolf furs, including a hood made from the head of a wolf, that rested on his back. He had a huge two-handed battle axe resting on the table, but gripped tightly in his hands. He sat, teeth gritted, showing no motion, his shoulders taking up all the room on the bench. Beside the dark man was a skinny weasel-faced fellow, who also had long hair and lots of acne scars on his face. He laughed shrilly at everything the blonde man said. Across from the weasel was a rotund bald man, who only had tufts of black hair sprouting from behind his ears. Despite, his girth, he looked strong and a large round nose and a double-chin. He wore black priestly robes with a silver belt cord and had a nasty headed mace at his side.
Martin returned from the bar and sat down, “The innkeep will be arranging for us to get three rooms, two doubles and a triple. He is also sending over a barmaid to take our orders.”
The companions sat there, just wanting to enjoy the warm, and dry off, their boots and cloaks, leaving a puddle of melted snow underneath them, but the conversation of the other travelers destroyed the illusion of peace.
“So then we had her in the hold of the ship, bent over a crate and the whole crew just lined up and took turns,” said the tall blonde man.
The weaselly man broke into a shrill laughter, “Took your turns! Took your turns! Sounds messy!”
“That is why I made sure that I was third in line,” the blonde replied. “Worked in enough for someone of my attributes, but not so much so that I might as well stick my tally-wacker in the ocean and get the same feeling!”
“Stick your tally-wacker in the ocean!” the weasel-man brayed. “That’s a good one. That’s rich!”
“It gets better. I’m getting my turn, and I am slamming into her for all I’m worth, and I can tell she’s really enjoying it, especially compared to all the rest of the crew. She was moaning and yelling and looking right into my eyes,” the blonde man continued.
“Oh yeah, sure. I’m sure she liked it,” said the weaselly man through his laughter. “Them whores always act like they don’t like it, but you know they do.”
The topic of the other group’s conversation was wearing the patience of the companions, and finally Ratchis turned to them and said loudly, “Keep it down!”
“I don’t think so,” said the blonde man, without turning to look. The weaselly-faced man bared his teeth and squat man’s knuckles turned bright white as his grip tightened on his axe.
The man continued his story, “The next day I wake up and the poor bugger is all red and sore and covered in yellow pus. The whore was diseased! If she had been around I would have given her such a slap!”
“Yeah, yeah, ya would’ve slapped her! Slapped her good! Yeah, yeah!” the weasel-man said, with his shrill laughter.
“So we were in port in Ursula City (12), so I went into town to the temple of Fallon and I go right up to the priestess in there and…get this… I whip out my tally-wacker and I say `lay hands on this, bitch!’”
The two men burst into gut-shaking laughter. The other two did not react very much, but the weaselly man could not stop.
“Lay your hands on this! Ha! Ha! Ha! That’s so rich! Oh! That’s a good one!”
The barmaid served their food, and the party ate with the joy of no more loud stories erupting from the other table. The bard played a soothing song, and then walked over to the other table where he seemed to know the others.
“Hey,” the weasel-faced man called over to the party’s table. “Hey, you guys hunting the dragon?”
“Yes,” said Jeremy.
“Well, so are we, and ya might as well give up because we are gonna find it first,” he said with his twisted grin.
“Well, I hope you run into it first, too,” replied Ratchis.
Suddenly, the wind outside the inn picked up into a howl that increased in pitch, ending with a loud thump on the roof that could be heard through the whole second floor above them, and several glasses in the common room bursting.. The boards creaked and moaned as if some great weight had been dragged across the building and the fire in the hearth flared up. The howling wind returned and this time seemed to come in gust straight down the chimney and all the lanterns and candles in the place went out, along with the hearth.
The barmaids began to scream, and the elderly couple just repeated “Oh my! Oh my!”
“Jana, we need a light,” said Beorth, and with a word from the young girl from Westron, the mug of ale before her gave off a bright light that filled half the common room.
Gibb, the barkeep, lit up a lantern and everyone looked around to determine what had happened. One of the barmaids was ducked behind a table, and the elderly couple immediately stood to leave, obviously shaken.
“Gibb, I am going to walk Nelin and Letia home to make sure they are safe,” said the brutish bouncer in a gentle tone, and began to lead the couple out. He took a moment t glare at both parties as he approached the door. “I had better not hear there was any trouble from you people while I was gone.”
“We were just leaving anyway,” said the tall blonde man. “We have a dragon to slay.”
“Yeah, no blizzard can stop us,” said the bard.
They gathered their gear and marched out after the bouncer and the elderly couple.
Ratchis and Kazrack decided to go outside to investigate the sound, while Martin and Jana spoke with one of the barmaids who still obviously nervous, was refilling their drinks.
“Does this kind of thing happen often?” Martin asked her.
“Oh, nothing this bad,” she said and then whispered. “Some people say this inn is haunted, but it is little things – figures out of the corner of your eyes that are gone when you turn your head, creaking footsteps in an empty room, that kind of thing.”
“Really? And it never has manifested itself so violently before?” Martin continued with his probing.
“Oh, I wouldn’t call that violent, sir,” the barmaid said. “Spooky, yes. Violent? No. But you are right to say that nothing that extreme has ever happened before, but please don’t tell Gibb I said anything. The owners like to keep such rumors hush-hush.”
“Is Gibb one of the owners?” Jana asked.
“No, the owners are away,” the girl replied.
The two men at the bar, bid the barkeep good night and went up to their rooms.
----
Meanwhile, outside Ratchis was climbing up to the roof. He used the uneven stones of the chimney, as Kazrack watched on from below. Ratchis could see a line of something about a foot and a half in with dragged across the length of the roof. Snow was pushed down to the edge of the slightly angled roof, and falling over in big clumps as more piled on it from the sky. He carefully made his way across the roof and examined the mark, while checking for any tracks, but could find nothing else unusual. As he approached the chimney again, his feet suddenly slipped out to his left and he slammed into the roof hip first, the bit of snow beneath him cushioning the fall.
Ratchis held himself in place and could feel the area beneath the snow was very slick, as if covered by oil, but he could not see anything there. He slowly began to get to his feet again, and this time when he slipped he tumbled feet over head and right off the roof, landing painfully despite the snow bank.
Ratchis was lying there for a second, trying to regain his breath, when Beorth came out of the inn, bearing the light-emanating mug.. Kazrack came around the corner.
“Hit an icy patch?” Kazrack asked.
“No, it was just slick. It was weird. I felt for ice, and there was none,” Ratchis replied, as Beorth helped him up.
“Well, Martin spoke with one of the barmaids and she said this place is haunted, but that nothing this extreme has ever happened before,” Beorth said. “If it is a haunting, I am duty bound to investigate it.”
“Well, I am going to go back up on the roof and checking out that slippery spot,” Ratchis said. “Kazrack, can you stand watch again?”
“For what?” the dwarf replied.
“Because I am climbing on the roof of an inn in a strange town and people might find that strange,” said Ratchis with a tone of exasperation.
Ratchis climbed back up the chimney and this time took a rope with him. At the top he tied the rope about the chimney and then tied the other end about his waist, keeping the slack looped in his left hand. He then examined the spot that had been slippery before and found it was just normal wetness from snow. Perplexed, he went back downstairs.
----
Back in the common room, Chance grabbed his pack and made to go up and choose one of the three rooms the party had rented, but Jana stopped him.
“Um, Chance,” she said softly. “I’m scared. All this stuff that is going on is freaky. Do you mind if I stay with you tonight?”
“Ya scared? Come now, Ah’ve seen ya face down that ondead thing n’ fight gooblins n’such. Why would ya be scared now?” Chance asked confused.
“I just am. Please?” A mischievous look came into the young girl’s eyes.
“Oh!” Chance said, with a sudden realization. “Well, if ya scarred, ah understand completely!”
Chance took her hand and led her upstairs.
----
Beorth and Martin went up to find a room to use. They found that the party had been given three adjacent room on the east side of the inn, and took on the northeast corner.
As they entered, Beorth thought he heard something skitter in the room.
“Did you hear that?” the paladin asked the Watch-Mage.
“No. What?” Martin asked.
“I’m not sure, let’s look around. It’s better to be safe than sorry,” Beorth replied.
Martin began to look under the beds while Beorth noticing movement in the window stepped over to it. He looked and saw it was only his own reflection in the glass pane. He stepped a bit closer to get a look out the window, wondering if maybe someone or something was behind the inn. Suddenly, his reflection move independent of his own movement, turning to look at him. Beorth was startled as the figure’s eyes turned red and actually taking form reached forward and wrapped its cold hands around the paladin’s throat!
“Well, there is nothing under here, Beorth,” Martin said, not seeing his companion struggling to pry the ghostly fingers from his neck. “Beorth?”
Martin the Green turned to see Beorth struggling, his throat turning black and blue beneath the translucent grip. Finally, he pulled himself free by pure strength, stumbling back into Martin who was moving forward to try to help.
They turned to look back at the window. It looked as any window would.
Kazrack, Jeremy and Ratchis came upstairs. Jeremy and Kazrack took the center room which had two beds, while Ratchis went to the end room which the innkeep had explained had a double bed and one normal sized bed.
The large half-orc pushed open the door, to find the lantern light turned way low and to hear a rustling of sheets and blankets in the double bed. Ratchis grunted and walked in, dropping his pack on the floor and slipping out of his armor. Chance’s head popped out of the top of the blanket, while girlish giggling could be heard from beneath it.
“Oh, we, uh… Yill beh stayin’ in here then, eh?” Chance said.
Ratchis did not reply, but pulled back the blanket atop the bed and lay in it.
“Aye, well that’s fine. Just sleepin’ anyway. Good night,” Chance added.
Ratchis pulled the blanket over his head and tried to fall asleep, but after a few moments he heard the rustling and giggling coming from the other side of the room.
----
Kazrack walked out of his room, trying to get away from Jeremy’s ceaseless jabbering. The dwarf wasn’t even sure what the young Neergaardian was saying as he just tuned out his foolishness. At the same time, Beorth and Martin came out of their rooms to report the incident with the reflection in the window.
“There is definitely something strange going on around here,” Kazrack said when it had been explained to him. “We should go talk to the innkeeper.”
Kazrack began to make his way down the stairs when he heard screaming from below. He immediately began to run down towards its source. Surprised by the dwarf’s sudden departure, Beorth and Martin were startled and did not hear the screaming until a few moments later, joining the dash towards the sound.
The screams were coming from the other side of the inn. Kazrack came around a corner to a doorway to a small bedroom. One of the barmaids was standing up on one of two beds in the room shrieking.
“What is it?” Kazrack asked, unslinging his heavy flail.
“Rats!” the barmaid cried. “Rats under the bed! Big ones!”
Kazrack let a slight chuckle escape his mouth and scratching his beard in bewilderment over how someone could be so frightened by a little creature, he knelt down to look at the vermin beneath the bed. In the shadows there, he saw three small rodents. They squeaked at him and then suddenly, their eyes turned into two points of pulsating red light, and they grew in size, actually causing the bed to buck upwards as they charged at the dwarf, biting him deeply on the shoulder.
Kazrack stepped back as the rats, now the size of small dogs and their gray fur interspersed with sharp red hairs that rolled across their body like fire. The barmaid began to scream even louder. Beorth and Martin arrived, but the tall and armored paladin blocked the doorway, not allowing the Watch-mage to see what was happening. Kazrack brought his flail down on a rat and smashed it with one blow. It exploded into a bright flash of light, which caused the two warriors to flinch, turning their heads away.
Kazrack and Beorth swung their weapons at the vicious fiendish rodents, but their size and speed such that the two warriors had a hard time connecting with their blows.
Upstairs, Ratchis sighed loudly and sat up, tired of the tittering, shifting, lip smacking and giggling from the other bed. Grabbing the blanket, pillow and his pack, he stormed out of the room. He began to walk down the stairs to spend the night by the hearth, when he heard the sounds of curses and battle from below. He dropped everything, but his sword and took off towards the sound.
Martin tried to get a look past Beorth who stabbed at the dexterous rats with all the skill he could muster, but failing to connect.
“What are they?” Martin asked.
“Demon rats!” cried Beorth. The barmaid’s screaming reached a new register.
Martin began to cant the words to his daze spell, but could not get a good enough line of sight for it to be successful, so he settled for remaining vigilant for an opportunity to cast the spell.
Kazrack managed to smashed any other rat and it too exploded into a bright flash of light, just as Ratchis arrived behind Martin in the narrow hallway.
“What is going on?” Ratchis asked.
“Demon rats emerged in the maids’ room,” explained Martin.
Ratchis stopped and listened. He noticed a cold breeze coming from further down the hall and around the corner and could hear the sound of door slamming over and over. He cautiously walked over and peered around the corner to see a side door to the outside flapping in the wind. Ratchis stepped into the doorway and looked around outside.
“Nephthys, grant me your light so that I may see what dangers threaten us and this place,” he said and suddenly his hand glowed brightly.
He continued to look around, when he noticed a larger amount of snow falling on him from above than the level of snowfall indicated. He looked up, and thought he heard someone or something move away from the edge of the roof and towards the other side of the inn. Ratchis took off around the back of the inn.
Kazrack and Beorth continued to struggle, while Martin waited, but finally Beorth’s sword found its aim and he buried the blade into the creature. Again the rat exploded into a bright flash of light and while, Kazrack was able to close his eyes in time, Beorth felt the light burn his eyes.
“I’m blind!” the paladin cried, and stumbled back out of the room into Martin, just as Gibb the barkeep came running up.
“What is going on?” Gibb asked.
“Demon rats attacked one of the barmaids,” Martin said.
The proprietor pushed past Beorth who was rubbing his eyes over and over to no avail, and made his way into the room. Martin began to lead Beorth back up to their room, while Kazrack tried to explain what happened to Gibb, while the barmaid refused to come down from off the bed.
Ratchis raced around the inn, and one the other side he came face to face with ghostly figure of a woman with a billowing dress and shawl. He could see it clearly, but could still see the snowy ground behind her. She floated a few inches off the ground, but was very tall regardless, nearly six and half feet.
“Go away!” the apparition said, her voice like a cracking ice. “You are not welcome here!”
Ratchis held the chain at his waist and called to his goddess, “Nephthys, fill me with you divine energy that I may expel this poor tortured soul from this world!”
“Don’t make me angry,” the ghost-woman said and floated closer to the half-orc. As it approached, its visage became twisted and its white translucents became corrupted, erupting into a black shadowy form with blank spots for eyes. It reached out to touch Ratchis, but he ducked and called to Nephthys again, this time to temporarily enchant his weapon.
Ratchis swung at the creature, but his sword passed straight through it, and despite the cold he could feel sweat begin to bead on his forehead. The ghost-thing continued to reach for him, and as he swung, Ratchis ducked and moved to avoid its touch – but he could avoid it for only so long. Ratchis felt the cold touch of the apparition on his chest and he could feel the very strength of his muscles begin to leave him, sucked out through the creature’s hand.
The struggle continued and Ratchis brought his long sword through the creature again, this time feeling the slightest bit of resistance, and he could see the smallest amount of shadow-stuff come spilling out from where the sword had been and then dissipate However, his moment of joy was brief, as he felt the cold touch of the creature again, and his arms became heavier, as his strength left him. The majority of his blows went right through the thing.
“Anybody! I think I need some help here!” Ratchis cried.
Upstairs, Chance cocked his head and moved the blanket from over him and Jana.
“Didja hear that?” he asked the girl. “Sounded like Ratchis.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” replied Jana. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It sounded like it came from outside,” said Chance, getting out of bed and going over to the window. “Ratchis is in trouble!”
The Wallbrookian ran towards the door buck-naked and realizing his nude condition snatched a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself and then took off downstairs. Jana glanced out the window and saw Ratchis struggling with the shadow creature and grabbed her crossbow and began to load it.
Chance came barreling down the stairs, holding the blanket around his waist in one hand and his short sword in the other, barely keeping from tripping. He raced past Martin and Beorth in the hall, and past Kazrack who was making his way to the common room downstairs and to a side door near where Ratchis was fighting. He then halted about fifteen feet away from the creature.
“Oh me god! Whut tha hell is that!?”
Ratchis looked for a moment at Chance and then regretted it. He felt the cold hand of the creature go straight through his chest and out the other side, as more strength than the two touches before was drained from him. His sword arm felt as if it were made from lead, and his legs felt anchored to the frozen ground.
Kazrack came rushing out of the inn after Chance, and despite the fact that he had never in his life ever seen such a creature did not pause to come to his companion’s aid. Jana, thinking she had a shot let a bolt loose at the creature, but it landed way short.
Martin began to slowly lead Beorth back down the stairs to see what was going on.
“I’ll make my own way down,” the paladin said. “Go ahead and see if someone needs help.”
The Watch-Mage did not pause and barreled down the stairs and out the side door.
“Oh Bes, grant us some luck!” Chance chanted, but it seemed that Bes was not listening because again, Ratchis felt the cold attack of the shadow.
Jana fired another bolt, and this one landed inches from Kazrack.
The yelling and frenzied combat was finally heard by Jeremy, who opened the window, and peered out from directly above the conflict. He watched as the shadow-creature turned on a surprised Kazrack and drew strength out of the dwarf with its cold touch. He watched both Kazrack and Ratchis’ blows ineffectively go through the thing.
Martin invoked his shield spell and stepped closer to the combat, so Jeremy did what any adventurous person would do. He leaped out the window, sword in hand, and joined the fray! He attempted to use the momentum of the jump to attack the shadow, but only stumbled into the melee awkwardly, distracting Kazrack who felt the deep cold of the creature’s touch once again.
And still the party’s blows were ineffective, Martin knew it was time to use magic in this offensive and cast a spray of a variety of bright color at point blank range. However, instead of having the effect he desires, the creature seemed to absorb the colors, and now they swirled over the surface of the creature.
“Isis preserve us!” Martin cried, as Jana fired her crossbow again, and the bolt landed between Ratchis’ legs.
“Run away!” Chance began to yell. “Weh cahnt beat it! Run away!”
The ghost-shadow-thing turned its now colorful swirling face toward Martin and when it reached out and touched him, the colors on its incorporeal body swirled down its arm and flashed upon the young Watch-Mage. Fortunately, Martin was able to resist his own spell, but he felt the cold strength drain of the creature’s touch.
“This isn’t real,” Martin said to himself. He rubbed his eyes, closed them and took a deep breath and said it again with more emphasis. “This isn’t REAL!” He opened his eyes, and the creature was still there. And yet, to the weapons of the others, it was as if it were not there.
“Run away!” Chance continued, but the ineffective blows continued, but at least the creature could not seem to decide which of the party to attack.
Beorth came stumbling through the doorway, “What is happening?”
“Stay inside!” Chance said to the paladin. ‘It’s a ghost!”
“A ghost! Where?” Beorth said, turning towards the sounds of the fight. Jana continued to send crossbow bolts into the thick if the fight, not doing much but creating a deadly rain.
The creature reached for Jeremy. “I will suck out all your souls!” it said in its eerie voice, finally speaking again. The Neergaardian leapt out of the way, and Martin ran from the combat and into the in.
“Help!” the Watch-Mage cried.
“Anubis! Hear my call and send this abomination away!” Beorth cried, clutching the silver jackal head around his neck.
“No, you are facing the wrong way,” Chance said, taking Beorth’s shoulders and turning him towards the thing.
But it didn’t matter either way, either this thing was not undead, or it was beyond Beorth’s faith to turn.
The thwang of Jana firing another bolt was heard by all, and it hit the creature dead on, and then passing through it buried itself in Ratchis’ thigh.
“Ow!” the Friar of Nephthys cried with rage. “Stop! Firing the damn crossbow!”
The shadow was finally able to touch Jeremy, but the hardy Neergaardian resisted sufficiently so that only the slightest bit of strength was drained from him.
Filled with rage Ratchis swung his sword right through the shadow again and felt the slightest resistance, pulling a huge chunk of shadow stuff free from the thing. It threw a fist into the air and dissipated with a shriek.
Both Kazrack and Ratchis slumped to the snowy ground.
End of Session #14
------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(10) The part had found out about the “Ogre Scar” in the briefing. A mysterious deep tear in the earth, it is known to have been home to ogres, and a place than many Fir-Hagre orcs fled to at the end of the Orc War.
(11) Quark is the fourth month of the year and middle month of summer. Aquerra’s months are as follows (in order): {spring} Prem, Sek {summer} Ter, Quark, Keent, {autumn}, Ese, Syet, {winter} Oche, Nuiet, Dek, Onk.
(12) Ursula City is a medium-sized city in the northern portion of Sandspine Island in the Kingdom of Neergaard. It was re-named for the late Queen, mother of current king Edmund Crownen I.
