Hi all!
OK, if you happen to be reading this because you've seen my name associated with another story hour, let me tell you up front that this story hour is NOT the continuation of Small Beginnings. D'Shai and I are actually in a holding pattern on that one until we either get a fairly massive backlog of posts we can dole out on a consistent basis or until things get back to normal at his house post-baby. Don't worry, we'll keep that particular audience posted.
On the other hand, if you aren't one of those people (or if I haven't scared you off yet), I hope you enjoy what I've got for you today: a SH based on the exploits of another campaign, except this time its with me wearing the DM hat. I'm primarily writing it "keep a hand in" and to continue loosening the DM rust. And, if I feel like it, I might just pull the old switcheroo on you and let D'Shai write an update or two.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
****
Halfday, 5th week of Spring, 2476 ER (Empire Reckoning)
Chase soared above the canopy of trees. It has been too long, he thought to himself, much too long. Still… Out of the corner of his very sharp eye, Chase saw movement – a rabbit – below the leaves and dipped slightly before he remembered that he had something of a schedule. Besides, there will be time for that later, after I see Wood.
For long moments, Chase glided easily into the lazy southern spring breeze. He climbed for a bit, and closed his eyes, feeling the noonday sun on his back and letting the wind pluck at his feathers. Then he opened his eyes and dove toward a familiar clearing, half expecting to be bowled over by Wood’s exuberant canine from the moment talon hit turf.
Yet when he slowed his descent and landed, no shaggy wolf greeted him. Probably just running later than usual. Oh well, I can wait.
And, perched atop a thick branch, Chase waited. He waited until the sun set, throughout the full moonlit night, and until day break. Then the druid in eagle’s form took flight to the north.
Something is wrong…
**
Eighthday, 7th week of Spring, 2476 ER
Fen sat on his haunches beneath the trees in the middle of the overgrown trail, running his hands over the shallow ruts that the wagon had left in the hard packed earth. In a ritual he had repeated three times since the trail left the road, he scanned the impromptu and now abandoned campsite for details about his quarry. So far, the Imperial couriers he followed had shown that they knew their basic woodcraft – aside from the trio of hastily covered firepits he had found over the past two days, they had been careful to leave nothing incriminating behind. Based on how well they camouflaged their movement off the Reed Trail and onto this little used and overrun south western path, he imagined that the Imperial felt secure enough in their skills that they didn’t expect any sort of pursuit.
Of course, they didn’t know that they were being tracked by one of the Farisian Forward Company. Fen smiled at the thought and hefted his ash bow. If he had his way, they never would; and if they proved… uncooperative… when he caught up to them, then BlackScore and her quiver full of wooden friends would take care of them under the waning moon.
He struck out on the trail at a brisk walk, following the shallow ruts where he could and scanning the growth around the pathway when he couldn’t. Throughout the morning he trudged, until he hit a long clearing in the tree cover. Then, when he stepped into the sunlight, he heard a familiar screech from above the trees. He squinted as he searched for the source of the cry, and sighed heavily when he saw an eagle with red and brown feathers drop down to perch on the trunk of a fallen tree.
“Chase,” he said matter-of-factly. “Noah told you where to find me.” The bird of prey cocked its head to the side in what Fen had come to know as a nod and gave a short, shrill squawk. “Look Chase, I’m on the trail of some Imperials carrying something important, and I don’t have time to play guessing games today. What do you want?” The bird spread its wings and half flew to the southern edge of the clearing. The eagle let loose another piercing cry and then disappeared into the forest again, leaving Fen with a clear view of a climbing pillar of smoke in the distance.
Fen cursed. Since New Year he had seen three such pillars. Twice he had investigated only to arrive in time to see the homesteads of his fellow frontiersmen burned to the ground, the adults missing, and the livestock slaughtered. On the last, he saw a babe in swaddling left for dead among the livestock and already growing cold; as cold as the young girl trampled under the hooves of Imperial Cavalry fifteen years ago.
Without a backwards glance he ran after the bird. It was time to introduce the firestarters to BlackScore.
**
Ezekiel drove his knee into the belly of the big goblin, folding it nearly in half before bringing his heavy maul across the back of its head. The savage’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground as its even larger companion’s weapon raked across the overlapping scales covering the holy warrior’s back. In return, the young man whispered a quick prayer to the Daughter’s Son, felt the holy power guide his hand, and smote the beast. The goblin fell like a well cut tree.
Finally free of his foes, glanced quickly around for Jex. Across the smoky haze of the clearing, near the raging fire that was once the rear of Joss and Nelli’s farmhouse, his misguided and unarmed companion stood over the motionless form of another of the larger goblins as he dodged the axe of a fourth, and smaller, savage. Even unarmed, the strange man from the heart of the Empire had the upper hand; the goblin must have come to the same conclusion, for it turned and ran into the woods, leading Jex away from the fires.
Uttering another prayer, asking vigor and swiftness enough to do what must be done, Ezekiel ran around to the front of the house. The barn had collapsed into a fiery heap – what or whoever was trapped inside were long dead – but there still might be survivors in the house. The young man ran to the door and pushed only to find it blocked or barred. Lend me the strength of your Grandfather’s rays, my Lord, he prayed, and launched himself at the portal. The wood splintered as the door burst inward, with Ezekiel right after it.
The back half of the single chamber stood wreathed in flames as did the roof, which threatened to collapse with every crackle and creak. The young man scanned the smoke filled room with watery eyes, until the came to rest on the man, woman, and child he sought. They lay atop one another, largest to smallest, stacked neatly against the wall in a pool of blood being quickly consumed by the fire. Ezekiel fled the house as the roof fell, wiping away tears not entirely caused by smoke.
The young man stared at the roaring fire for a while, singing softly to himself and to the Son, and praying silently that he would see them in the Great Reward.
Some time later, Jex returned. He was scratched all about, and his loose fitting trousers had torn, but he seemed other wise unharmed. He stood beside the young man in silence as the farm burned. “You said you knew them,” he said.
Ezekiel paused for a moment, “I did.”
“And you had letters for them.”
The young man sniffed. “I do. I used to read them their letters. Joss and Nellie couldn’t read. I was going to teach little Bethany next spring.”
“Then let them hear them one more time before they make the long journey home. Give them good tidings one last time before Rao calls them as he sets.”
Ezekiel looked Jex for a moment. The older man had called the Grandfather by name. That marked him as one of the Children, and a heretic. That did not make his words any less true. The younger man reached his hand into his small satchel and retrieved a tiny bundle, and began to read.
An hour later, as the fires began to gutter, they saw an eagle fly into the clearing, followed by a large, rough looking man Ezekiel recognized as a recluse who lived west of Mansker’s Fort. The man held a long black bow in one hand, and a nocked arrow in the other. He called to the pair in a cold, hard tone.
“Tell me who did this.”
OK, if you happen to be reading this because you've seen my name associated with another story hour, let me tell you up front that this story hour is NOT the continuation of Small Beginnings. D'Shai and I are actually in a holding pattern on that one until we either get a fairly massive backlog of posts we can dole out on a consistent basis or until things get back to normal at his house post-baby. Don't worry, we'll keep that particular audience posted.
On the other hand, if you aren't one of those people (or if I haven't scared you off yet), I hope you enjoy what I've got for you today: a SH based on the exploits of another campaign, except this time its with me wearing the DM hat. I'm primarily writing it "keep a hand in" and to continue loosening the DM rust. And, if I feel like it, I might just pull the old switcheroo on you and let D'Shai write an update or two.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
****
Halfday, 5th week of Spring, 2476 ER (Empire Reckoning)
Chase soared above the canopy of trees. It has been too long, he thought to himself, much too long. Still… Out of the corner of his very sharp eye, Chase saw movement – a rabbit – below the leaves and dipped slightly before he remembered that he had something of a schedule. Besides, there will be time for that later, after I see Wood.
For long moments, Chase glided easily into the lazy southern spring breeze. He climbed for a bit, and closed his eyes, feeling the noonday sun on his back and letting the wind pluck at his feathers. Then he opened his eyes and dove toward a familiar clearing, half expecting to be bowled over by Wood’s exuberant canine from the moment talon hit turf.
Yet when he slowed his descent and landed, no shaggy wolf greeted him. Probably just running later than usual. Oh well, I can wait.
And, perched atop a thick branch, Chase waited. He waited until the sun set, throughout the full moonlit night, and until day break. Then the druid in eagle’s form took flight to the north.
Something is wrong…
**
Eighthday, 7th week of Spring, 2476 ER
Fen sat on his haunches beneath the trees in the middle of the overgrown trail, running his hands over the shallow ruts that the wagon had left in the hard packed earth. In a ritual he had repeated three times since the trail left the road, he scanned the impromptu and now abandoned campsite for details about his quarry. So far, the Imperial couriers he followed had shown that they knew their basic woodcraft – aside from the trio of hastily covered firepits he had found over the past two days, they had been careful to leave nothing incriminating behind. Based on how well they camouflaged their movement off the Reed Trail and onto this little used and overrun south western path, he imagined that the Imperial felt secure enough in their skills that they didn’t expect any sort of pursuit.
Of course, they didn’t know that they were being tracked by one of the Farisian Forward Company. Fen smiled at the thought and hefted his ash bow. If he had his way, they never would; and if they proved… uncooperative… when he caught up to them, then BlackScore and her quiver full of wooden friends would take care of them under the waning moon.
He struck out on the trail at a brisk walk, following the shallow ruts where he could and scanning the growth around the pathway when he couldn’t. Throughout the morning he trudged, until he hit a long clearing in the tree cover. Then, when he stepped into the sunlight, he heard a familiar screech from above the trees. He squinted as he searched for the source of the cry, and sighed heavily when he saw an eagle with red and brown feathers drop down to perch on the trunk of a fallen tree.
“Chase,” he said matter-of-factly. “Noah told you where to find me.” The bird of prey cocked its head to the side in what Fen had come to know as a nod and gave a short, shrill squawk. “Look Chase, I’m on the trail of some Imperials carrying something important, and I don’t have time to play guessing games today. What do you want?” The bird spread its wings and half flew to the southern edge of the clearing. The eagle let loose another piercing cry and then disappeared into the forest again, leaving Fen with a clear view of a climbing pillar of smoke in the distance.
Fen cursed. Since New Year he had seen three such pillars. Twice he had investigated only to arrive in time to see the homesteads of his fellow frontiersmen burned to the ground, the adults missing, and the livestock slaughtered. On the last, he saw a babe in swaddling left for dead among the livestock and already growing cold; as cold as the young girl trampled under the hooves of Imperial Cavalry fifteen years ago.
Without a backwards glance he ran after the bird. It was time to introduce the firestarters to BlackScore.
**
Ezekiel drove his knee into the belly of the big goblin, folding it nearly in half before bringing his heavy maul across the back of its head. The savage’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground as its even larger companion’s weapon raked across the overlapping scales covering the holy warrior’s back. In return, the young man whispered a quick prayer to the Daughter’s Son, felt the holy power guide his hand, and smote the beast. The goblin fell like a well cut tree.
Finally free of his foes, glanced quickly around for Jex. Across the smoky haze of the clearing, near the raging fire that was once the rear of Joss and Nelli’s farmhouse, his misguided and unarmed companion stood over the motionless form of another of the larger goblins as he dodged the axe of a fourth, and smaller, savage. Even unarmed, the strange man from the heart of the Empire had the upper hand; the goblin must have come to the same conclusion, for it turned and ran into the woods, leading Jex away from the fires.
Uttering another prayer, asking vigor and swiftness enough to do what must be done, Ezekiel ran around to the front of the house. The barn had collapsed into a fiery heap – what or whoever was trapped inside were long dead – but there still might be survivors in the house. The young man ran to the door and pushed only to find it blocked or barred. Lend me the strength of your Grandfather’s rays, my Lord, he prayed, and launched himself at the portal. The wood splintered as the door burst inward, with Ezekiel right after it.
The back half of the single chamber stood wreathed in flames as did the roof, which threatened to collapse with every crackle and creak. The young man scanned the smoke filled room with watery eyes, until the came to rest on the man, woman, and child he sought. They lay atop one another, largest to smallest, stacked neatly against the wall in a pool of blood being quickly consumed by the fire. Ezekiel fled the house as the roof fell, wiping away tears not entirely caused by smoke.
The young man stared at the roaring fire for a while, singing softly to himself and to the Son, and praying silently that he would see them in the Great Reward.
Some time later, Jex returned. He was scratched all about, and his loose fitting trousers had torn, but he seemed other wise unharmed. He stood beside the young man in silence as the farm burned. “You said you knew them,” he said.
Ezekiel paused for a moment, “I did.”
“And you had letters for them.”
The young man sniffed. “I do. I used to read them their letters. Joss and Nellie couldn’t read. I was going to teach little Bethany next spring.”
“Then let them hear them one more time before they make the long journey home. Give them good tidings one last time before Rao calls them as he sets.”
Ezekiel looked Jex for a moment. The older man had called the Grandfather by name. That marked him as one of the Children, and a heretic. That did not make his words any less true. The younger man reached his hand into his small satchel and retrieved a tiny bundle, and began to read.
An hour later, as the fires began to gutter, they saw an eagle fly into the clearing, followed by a large, rough looking man Ezekiel recognized as a recluse who lived west of Mansker’s Fort. The man held a long black bow in one hand, and a nocked arrow in the other. He called to the pair in a cold, hard tone.
“Tell me who did this.”
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