Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 9, Part 1
-I'm off my regular job for the next two weeks, so I'll see if I can get a few extra updates in. 23 sessions is really alot when you only get through 1 a month or so and we're still pretty much in the prologue to the real stuff...-
Terrak smiled and stepped into the faint light of the single streetlamp that guttered in front of a nearby fisherman's shop. He pointed at the one the Master had fought before, a proud looking human with a bow. "You're too late, but the Master doesn't want you interfering anyway."
"No!" the human shouted, an arrow nocked and loosed in a blur. Terrak grinned wider and sidestepped it, but staggered back as a second slammed into his shoulder. He snarled and snapped it off, the others converging like a pack of wolves.
The archer loosed half-a-dozen arrows and then was through the fray and riding full-tilt up the dock. We'll get him when he comes back, Terrak thought, turning to the plate-armored hobgoblin. He launched forward, throwing a wild swing at the hobgoblin's head, but the hobgoblin ducked and Terrak felt a jarring impact as a longsword sliced him almost in half. He doubled over, spitting blood and snarling.
The hobgoblin pulled his sword out and turned away.
"Watch out Grok'nar, they aren't human!" The elf called, gesturing to the blackened and smoking spot where Rogun's arrow-riddled body was burning away.
The one called Grok'nar spun, shield rising, but Terrak was faster. His kick connected with the hobgoblin's side, breastplate crunching as the hobgoblin flew through the net-covered wall of the nearby shop. Terrak grinned and turned to take the elf, meeting the wizard's eyes just as the elf finished a long incantation, slender fingers uncurling in Terrak's direction.
Terrak tried to leap aside, but he felt something snap inside where the hobgoblin had slashed him and his leap turned into a stagger. Something crackled as it buried into his chest. He snarled at the wizard and lunged, but there was a flare of heat deep inside Terrak's torso, exploding through him from the inside.
The world swirled into a mass of churning shadows as Terrak's spirit fled its ruined body. He drifted over the battle, shadows congealing into rough forms. He seethed with impotent rage as he watched as another of the pack was taken down by blade and blast. Swearing vengeance, Terrak's tattered soul fled through the otherworld.
***
"Out of the way!" Harold shouted, charging through the crowd fleeing the dock and the flaming barge that was on a collision course with it. He thrust his spurs into the warhorse's flanks as it reached the end of the dock and it leapt, hooves leaving dock and hitting deck with a clatter. Harold sprung from his horse, took two steps, and nearly fell as the barge slammed into the dock, planks and splintered railings flying in all directions.
The deck was a chaos of flame and panic and corpses. He scanned the crowd, looking for the Ambassador, roughly pushing away the terrified courtiers that mobbed him. Then, through the madness, he saw the glint of a medal.
Honor Guard Jerald's body lay by the stairs leading below decks, drenched in blood, his weapons sheathed. Harold swore and ran below, ignoring the heat and smoke that billowed up at him. Coughing, he ran through the smoke, stepping over fallen chairs and tables and ducking to check the bodies that lay sprawled here and there in the barge's hold.
He stumbled into a hallway lined with doors, all closed but the one at the end. Several bodies in the livery of Northmand and the Crystal Towers were leaned against the walls or lay in pools of blood, swords buried in each other's guts or loose on the deck. He rushed into the room and saw the Ambassador's body sitting with the gaping red grin of a slit throat, the body of Northmand's High Priest sagging against the wall next to him like a rag-doll.
With an inarticulate cry, Harold grabbed the Ambassador's body and ran blindly from the burning barge. He slung the body across his wild-eyed warhorse's saddle and sent his horse flying through the mob that churned on the dock. People cried out and swore and hurled themselves aside, but Harold was beyond caring.
Suniel and the hobgoblin and the Greywarden still battled the assassins, grim figures squaring off against the feral, hunched forms of their assailants. Harold rode by them at a full gallop. A ragged figure threw itself at him from the roof of a building as he passed and, on instinct, he ducked, bow in hand and arrow loosed before the figure hit ground. His arrow took the assassin in the forehead and hurled it backwards.
He didn't wait to see if his first shot had finished it, putting arrows into it as he rode away until its body collapsed in a heap. A turn put the fallen assassin, his companions, and the docks behind him as he rode hard for Northmand.
***
Suniel took a deep breath and felt the tension slowly drain from him. The fight was over.
Kezzek had already gone up the dock to help escort people from the barge and Grok'nar had wandered off somewhere not long after the last of the assassins had died, a speculative look on his face as he had watched the barge burn.
Slowly, Suniel approached where the last of their attackers had fallen. No body, no blood; only ash drifting in the faint, cool breeze blowing in off the lake. Curiosity soon overcame Suniel's weariness and caution, but yielded little fruit as he searched the area. Nothing left but ash.
He was about to give up and go help the Greywarden at the barge when he noticed a few scraps of paper smoldering near the spot where he had blasted the "leader" apart. The first few bits he gingerly picked up were blank or already too burnt to be legible, but one still contained writing.
He read it twice and then again. A second later he was sprinting up the dock. They're going to want to see this...
***
Kezzek growled as he looked at the few sparse notes he had scribbled in his journal. Need more, he thought, looking up at the end of the dock where a small army of Northmand guards had gathered in a tight knot around the notables from the barge. I suppose I'll need to get the cooperation of the locals to keep them from interfering with my investigation. Always tedious how protective... His thoughts were interrupted by a very breathless Suniel pushing his way through the crowd, what looked like a scrap of burnt parchment raised in his hand.
"I... this... its... I know..." Suniel said between gasps as he slid to a stop in front of Kezzek, waving the scrap about like a prize ribbon.
"Slow down Suniel," Kezzek said, raising his hands. "Take a breath before you collapse."
"Find Grok'nar... I know... where they are!" Suniel said, handing Kezzek the piece of parchment. Kezzek read it, tugged on a tusk, and growled.
"Find the hobgoblin. I'm going to make sure no one disturbs my investigation while we're gone," he said, scanning the length of the dock for any high-ranking officer.
Suniel nodded, turned away, and paused. "Looks like Harold was right about what they were," he said with a glance at the scrap in Kezzek's hand before he disappeared into the crowds.
"...receipt of delivery, at one 'Annandor's' behest and payment. Detail: 5 chests, medium, full, contents unknown; 2 chests, small, full, contents unknown; 7 coffins, full, contents unknown..."
-I'm off my regular job for the next two weeks, so I'll see if I can get a few extra updates in. 23 sessions is really alot when you only get through 1 a month or so and we're still pretty much in the prologue to the real stuff...-
Terrak smiled and stepped into the faint light of the single streetlamp that guttered in front of a nearby fisherman's shop. He pointed at the one the Master had fought before, a proud looking human with a bow. "You're too late, but the Master doesn't want you interfering anyway."
"No!" the human shouted, an arrow nocked and loosed in a blur. Terrak grinned wider and sidestepped it, but staggered back as a second slammed into his shoulder. He snarled and snapped it off, the others converging like a pack of wolves.
The archer loosed half-a-dozen arrows and then was through the fray and riding full-tilt up the dock. We'll get him when he comes back, Terrak thought, turning to the plate-armored hobgoblin. He launched forward, throwing a wild swing at the hobgoblin's head, but the hobgoblin ducked and Terrak felt a jarring impact as a longsword sliced him almost in half. He doubled over, spitting blood and snarling.
The hobgoblin pulled his sword out and turned away.
"Watch out Grok'nar, they aren't human!" The elf called, gesturing to the blackened and smoking spot where Rogun's arrow-riddled body was burning away.
The one called Grok'nar spun, shield rising, but Terrak was faster. His kick connected with the hobgoblin's side, breastplate crunching as the hobgoblin flew through the net-covered wall of the nearby shop. Terrak grinned and turned to take the elf, meeting the wizard's eyes just as the elf finished a long incantation, slender fingers uncurling in Terrak's direction.
Terrak tried to leap aside, but he felt something snap inside where the hobgoblin had slashed him and his leap turned into a stagger. Something crackled as it buried into his chest. He snarled at the wizard and lunged, but there was a flare of heat deep inside Terrak's torso, exploding through him from the inside.
The world swirled into a mass of churning shadows as Terrak's spirit fled its ruined body. He drifted over the battle, shadows congealing into rough forms. He seethed with impotent rage as he watched as another of the pack was taken down by blade and blast. Swearing vengeance, Terrak's tattered soul fled through the otherworld.
***
"Out of the way!" Harold shouted, charging through the crowd fleeing the dock and the flaming barge that was on a collision course with it. He thrust his spurs into the warhorse's flanks as it reached the end of the dock and it leapt, hooves leaving dock and hitting deck with a clatter. Harold sprung from his horse, took two steps, and nearly fell as the barge slammed into the dock, planks and splintered railings flying in all directions.
The deck was a chaos of flame and panic and corpses. He scanned the crowd, looking for the Ambassador, roughly pushing away the terrified courtiers that mobbed him. Then, through the madness, he saw the glint of a medal.
Honor Guard Jerald's body lay by the stairs leading below decks, drenched in blood, his weapons sheathed. Harold swore and ran below, ignoring the heat and smoke that billowed up at him. Coughing, he ran through the smoke, stepping over fallen chairs and tables and ducking to check the bodies that lay sprawled here and there in the barge's hold.
He stumbled into a hallway lined with doors, all closed but the one at the end. Several bodies in the livery of Northmand and the Crystal Towers were leaned against the walls or lay in pools of blood, swords buried in each other's guts or loose on the deck. He rushed into the room and saw the Ambassador's body sitting with the gaping red grin of a slit throat, the body of Northmand's High Priest sagging against the wall next to him like a rag-doll.
With an inarticulate cry, Harold grabbed the Ambassador's body and ran blindly from the burning barge. He slung the body across his wild-eyed warhorse's saddle and sent his horse flying through the mob that churned on the dock. People cried out and swore and hurled themselves aside, but Harold was beyond caring.
Suniel and the hobgoblin and the Greywarden still battled the assassins, grim figures squaring off against the feral, hunched forms of their assailants. Harold rode by them at a full gallop. A ragged figure threw itself at him from the roof of a building as he passed and, on instinct, he ducked, bow in hand and arrow loosed before the figure hit ground. His arrow took the assassin in the forehead and hurled it backwards.
He didn't wait to see if his first shot had finished it, putting arrows into it as he rode away until its body collapsed in a heap. A turn put the fallen assassin, his companions, and the docks behind him as he rode hard for Northmand.
***
Suniel took a deep breath and felt the tension slowly drain from him. The fight was over.
Kezzek had already gone up the dock to help escort people from the barge and Grok'nar had wandered off somewhere not long after the last of the assassins had died, a speculative look on his face as he had watched the barge burn.
Slowly, Suniel approached where the last of their attackers had fallen. No body, no blood; only ash drifting in the faint, cool breeze blowing in off the lake. Curiosity soon overcame Suniel's weariness and caution, but yielded little fruit as he searched the area. Nothing left but ash.
He was about to give up and go help the Greywarden at the barge when he noticed a few scraps of paper smoldering near the spot where he had blasted the "leader" apart. The first few bits he gingerly picked up were blank or already too burnt to be legible, but one still contained writing.
He read it twice and then again. A second later he was sprinting up the dock. They're going to want to see this...
***
Kezzek growled as he looked at the few sparse notes he had scribbled in his journal. Need more, he thought, looking up at the end of the dock where a small army of Northmand guards had gathered in a tight knot around the notables from the barge. I suppose I'll need to get the cooperation of the locals to keep them from interfering with my investigation. Always tedious how protective... His thoughts were interrupted by a very breathless Suniel pushing his way through the crowd, what looked like a scrap of burnt parchment raised in his hand.
"I... this... its... I know..." Suniel said between gasps as he slid to a stop in front of Kezzek, waving the scrap about like a prize ribbon.
"Slow down Suniel," Kezzek said, raising his hands. "Take a breath before you collapse."
"Find Grok'nar... I know... where they are!" Suniel said, handing Kezzek the piece of parchment. Kezzek read it, tugged on a tusk, and growled.
"Find the hobgoblin. I'm going to make sure no one disturbs my investigation while we're gone," he said, scanning the length of the dock for any high-ranking officer.
Suniel nodded, turned away, and paused. "Looks like Harold was right about what they were," he said with a glance at the scrap in Kezzek's hand before he disappeared into the crowds.
"...receipt of delivery, at one 'Annandor's' behest and payment. Detail: 5 chests, medium, full, contents unknown; 2 chests, small, full, contents unknown; 7 coffins, full, contents unknown..."
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