Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"

The company left Bridgetower with little ceremony the following morning. The air was crisp and a layer of frost covered most of the rooftops and what few patches of grass spotted the courtyard between the shops and vendor stalls. The breath of horses and humans escaped in clumps of mist in the early dawn.

Coerraine and Erevan loaded the ox-drawn cart Fen had arranged for them. When the cart was loaded, they covered their “wares” with a nondescript tarp.

Duor loudly “supervised” the handling of the chests and sacks of treasure.

Haelan arranged with Mrs. Pottle the safekeeping of the hen, Elsie. She was not to be used for cooking, only her eggs. Mrs. Pottle was more than agreeable, and noted the whole staff would be made aware of the “Hilltender’s Holy Hen.” He then stopped by the smith’s forge to collect his surprised. He approached the cart half-dragging the large wrapped flat bundle that was nearly the size the daelvar was, himself.

When Erevan asked about the item, Haelan proudly unwrapped the item to reveal Braddok’s shield. It was fully restored and burnished with a fresh swallowtail hawk painted over the mended metal in shining black.

“He did a beautiful job, didn’t he? Braddok will be pleased to have his old shield back, I think. Kinda a ‘welcome home’ present. Do you think he’ll like it?” Haelan asked hopefully.

The elf smiled down at the well-meaning cleric. “I think he’ll be very pleased indeed, Haelan. You are a good and thoughtful friend.”

Haelan smiled broadly.

Fen came walking up leading the four horses offered to the company for their ride to Shafton in full tack and ready to go. “Have we seen our fearless leader yet this morning?” the druid asked his companions.

“Said she had somethin’ t’do with the ‘Tower wizard. Ah, there she is.” Duor offered off-handedly.

Alaria and the wizard, Stenthil, walked slowly across the courtyard. Following their stint of identifying the items from Shafton, the previous day, Alaria had requested any and all information Stenthil had in his library about shadow snakes. She had spent a bit of time perusing the various entries, familiarizing herself with their three different types. The most powerful of which were, the mages had to admit, quite formidable. Alaria found herself sincerely hoping that the dark wizard did not have the power to conjure such a creature from the shadow realms.

Following that, she had asked Stenthil what means he might have or know about to thwart divinations upon one’s person. In exchange for the ring of protection, the wizard offered to cast an incantation of Misdirection for the group upon their leaving. This, the mage assured, should keep any arcane eyes off of the R’Hathi wizardess for most of the first day of their journey to the Vale.

He also scribed for her a scroll wth the same spell. Alaria did not have nor desire to use the time to transcribe into her own book that night, but was thankful to have it nonetheless and hoped to have some time to do so once they’d arrived at the village of Farthing Cross at the end of the day (one day out from the Vale).

With the reassurance that they could travel at least the day without being scried, the company had decided to make straight for the Vale. To get the Ihs Repahl out of Tresahd’s encroaching reach.

“Have you decided on a suitable distraction, Magess?” Stenthil asked kindly.

The magess instructed the Bridgetower wizard to cast the spell upon one of the few trees that grew in a small patch of yard within the keep’s courtyard.

“That’ll do nicely.” Stenthil approved.

She explained the magical ruse to her companions with Stenthil. “I will return into the main tower, where we already know [or rather very much hope, Alaria admitted silently] Tresahd cannot pierce. You all mount and make ready to leave. Stenthil shall cast the misdirecting enchantment and I shall then come out and join you and we will be off.

“With any luck, if he is watching, it should appear that you are traveling on and I am remaining. Captain Rynthis has been kind enough to agree to let us use something within the keep walls to further the misconception. He is sure Bridgetower would prove enough of a deterent should the wizard make it all the way here before the spell runs out.” Alaria concluded the plan they had all formed and heard several times so far. It was evident to all that the news from Rynthis had shaken the generally unflappable magess.

Everyone agreed and took their places. As the cart with Duor and Haelan in the seat was pulling away, Festus came running out from the tower in his course patchy traveling cloak. The satyr toted his weapons, bedroll, several full wineskins and a broad smile. He lept up into the back of the cart.

“Captain Rynthis thinks you should have a proper guide to get you to the Vale with all speed.” He laughed and uncorked one of the skins for a swig. “Let’s hit the road!”

Everyone was happy for the satyr’s return, including it seemed Buttercream who jumped up into the cart after the satyr and quickly curled herself into a comfortable ball.

Alaria and Coerraine thought it a bit early to be hitting the bottle but kept all comments to themselves, focused on the unfolding plan.

The paladin, elf, and druid mounted their horses and all made a good show of saying farewell to Stenthil and Alaria before the magess turned to return to the tower.

Stenthil made his way to the fruit stand. He lazily picked up and checked out various apples and pears before Alaria entered the tower. Then he darted to the side of the stand and cast his spell upon the tree. The fruit vendor who had been smiling and making morning small talk with the kindly wizard was shocked at the behavior but, figuring wizard business is wizard business and there was no accounting for it, simply shrugged and went back to arranging his display crates.

Not ten minutes out the gates, Alaria came trotting up on her grey-dappled filly.

Coerraine and Erevan rode ahead of the slow cart with Alaria and Fen riding behind. The paladin, of course, rode with shield and crimson shining for all to see. Erevan and Fen were sure to keep themselves hooded, as did Alaria. In the cold morning, covering their heads was no inconvenience at all.

The sight of a cart with an armed escort moving through Daenfrii these days should raise no notice or suspicion…or so the party told themselves, in case Treshad had any agents in the surrounding countryside.

The rising day proved to be bright and sunny, which should make for few shadowy hiding places along the road, they hoped. Alaria’s cursory scan with her magic-sensing sight did not reveal any shadow snakes to her. Haelan and Fen were both prepared to periodically use the invocation of magical detection periodically through their travel to make sure.

It wasn’t long before they were nearing the Inn of the Wyvern’s Wing. Festus took it as a good time to jump out of the cart and rush in for another try at a “good luck” kiss from the barmaid, Amber.

“And grab some of those wonderful pasties!” Haelan called and threw the satyr a few coins. An hour or so later, the ranger caught up with the lumbering ox cart and company.

“It was a bit early for the pasties to be ready”, Festus explained.

“Yeh get a kiss, this time?” Duor asked.

Festus easily climbed into the slow moving cart and launched into a long telling of the luscious lips of the woman and glorious skill with which he seduced the barmaid, leaving her in a swoon pleading to satisfy the lusty satyr’s “ample attributes.”

Haelan blushed visibly despite his cheeks being already rosy from the cold.

“But I told her I was on a mission of great importance and she would have to await my triumphant return. I told her the kiss would have to do. A heroes work is never done, you know.” The satyr concluded with a leering grin.

Duor burst into guffaws and said to Haelan, though plenty loud enough for the satyr to hear, “Pah! She wouldn’t touch him.” The dwarf laughed again loudly.

The satyr took good-natured umbrage and shared the next wineskin with the dwarf. Haelan politely refused.

The morning passed into midday and midday passed into afternoon. Their progress was slower than Alaria liked, but with the laden cart and an ox instead of horses, there was little they could do to increase their speed.

It was predetermined that if anything befell them, Alaria should and would bolt for the Vale, with Fen as a protector, with all speed. It was just a contingency plan none had any hopes of implementing. The wizardess had agreed to the idea of the plan, but was still concerned. For as much as Alaria’s concern was keeping the Wind Soul out of the dark wizard’s reach, neither could they allow anything to befall their hard-won treasure that was needed to pay for Braddok’s return from the lands of the dead. She was not sure she would be able to abandon her companions (and the treasure) if it became necessary.

What they could or would do for the remainder of the fee was a bridge they had agreed, with minor objection from Duor who had what Haelan had called “dragon’s horde on the brain”, would be crossed in Dragonwing Vale.

5,000 views!!!!

Woohoo! I know, I know, it's a small thing. But wanted to convey my thanks to any and all who enjoy reading my humble "Tales"...or those who don't enjoy it but are just bored...whoever!

As a special treat...I hope...thought I'd post some visuals for people.

I give to you Rhea, the Lady of the Emerald Tear a.k.a. "the Green Witch of Welford."

Thanks again for the interest. Hope y'all are enjoying the story...we're ramping up for some fun times to be told about Alaria and the crew.

Cheers all.
--SD

The day carried on. The shadows of afternoon were stretching farther as afternoon slipped into evening and the bright, though cool, day was taking on the rosy orange and purple tones of twilight.

The ox, much to Alaria’s displeasure, was definitely slowing their progress. She was sure Stenthil’s spell had expired by now and Farthing Cross was still not in sight.

Festus had “fallen asleep” [passed out] shortly following his liquid lunch of 2 wineskins and laid sprawled out upon the tarp that covered their treasure. His cloven feet were perched comfortably upon Buttercream’s curled sleeping form.

Fen and Haelan had each used their invocations to search the surrounding areas and shadows for anything unusual. Thankfully, nothing was presenting itself.

The group had passed a large stark white boulder or finger of rock that jutted out from a field, nothing around it. That, Duor had remarked, was unusual. But a good landmark, he supposed.

Shortly after the field with the stone, a stretch of clusterd trees and undergrowth came up on their left side (west of the road). While still set a ways off the well-worn dirt road, the trees’ shadows easily stretched across their path.

This put Alaria at a noticeable unease.

Shortly after the sky was turning to its evening hues, Buttercream awoke. The ferret stretched and yawnned its pointed snout of slender sharp teeth. She took a moment to sniff the air in the all directions before lazily edging herself down off the back of the cart and sniffing and weaving her way into woods.

Festus’ hooves thudded down on the cart, jolting the satyr awake. “Who, wuh, where?”

“Where is she going?” Alaria asked the druid riding at her side, curious.

“It’s evening. Hunting time. She’s hungry.” The half-elf chuckled in response. “She’ll be fine and catch up with us…if she so desires.”

Festus gasped. “Where are we?! It’s evening already? We haven’t passed the Giant’s Thumb, have we?!” the satyr blurted with some concern.

“Giant’s thumb?” Haelan asked dumbfounded.

“If yeh mean that big white boulder as ways back…Yeah. Lil’ bit ago. Why?” Duor answered, happy to have someone to talk to. The slow plodding of the ox and the long trip in the cart had dulled the dwarf, practically to sleep, himself.

Festus’s falchion left its scabbard with an audible “shing.” The satyr ducked down, so the top of his head and eyes were just peeking over the side of the cart. His gaze firmly affixed to the woods beside them.

This caused a great deal of concern and action. Haelan lept to his feet at the sound of the drawn weapon, the daelvar's mace leaping into his hand as he turned, standing on the cart seat to look back toward the ranger.

Coerraine, also, took up his shield and spear with fluid ease and turned his steed with his legs to face the cart. His eyes turned golden and shot all around them, looking for the unknown threat.

Erevan simply turned in his saddle to look back at the satyr. His single right eyebrow raised in characteristic questioning.

Fen edged his horse closer to Alaria, readying to bolt with the wizard, as was their plan.

With trained ease, a flurry of incantations for offensive spells came to Alaria’s mind. She was determined to aid her companions before abandoning them.

Duor, in his stupor of boredom was surprisingly slow to react. “Wut?! Who?! What’s the problem, goat-butt?” He didn’t even have the presence of mind to draw a weapon, his hands seemingly glued to the reigns.

Festus explained with apparent worry. Sounding like he was speaking more to himself than his companions. Concern raising almost to panic in his voice with each sentence.

“We’ve passed the Giant’s Thumb. Ok. It’s twilight. We’re not at the village yet. Ok. Ok. We’re ok. The woods are right here…if I’d known I’d have taken us around. Why didn't you wake me!?! But we’re here now. Ok…and it’s twilight!”

“Festus, what is it?!” Alaria voiced the deepening concern of everyone.

The satyr lowered himself even further, his brow scowling above eyes that just barely breached the top of the cart. He answered through clenched teeth with a hissing growl more than a word.

“Pixies.”

Attack of the Pixies

“Pixies.” Fen said, not sure if he had heard right.

“Pixies?” Haelan said.

“Pixies!?” Duor blurted.

There was a momentary silence.

Then the whole party erupted in laughter, except for Festus. Duor was nearly rolling off the seat. Fen, Coerraine and Haelan let out belly-laughed. Alaria politely covered her mouth to cover her own uncontrollable giggle.

Even Erevan let out a very rare audible chuckle through grinning lips. Both of the elf’s eyebrows were high on his forehead in disbelief.

“SHHHHH!!!” implored Festus. “You’re goin’ to draw them here with all of that merriment. Laugh all you like, they are wicked little trouble makers. The bane of the wood!” the satyr attempted to stay his companions. This only resulted in more laughter.

“My good Ranger Festus,” Fen said as his laughter abated, “I would have thought satyrs and pixies would get along quite well…fellow brethren of the wood and all of that.”

“Pixies are NOT brethren of the satyrs.” Festus retorted with much indignation. “We [satyrs] are Children of the Lord of Beasts…like all of the Tauran races! The fayekin are born of the Green Lady. They are precoscious, wicked, cruel little things…though, admittedly, they are sometimes good for a laugh at party…But that’s neither here nor there! We must tread carefully. Duor, can’t this thing go any faster?! Farthing Cross is just over the next ridge. We should see it any moment.”

This sent the dwarf into another round of uncontrolled laughter. “Seems our stalwart Ranger Festus is afraid of lil’ fairies! BAHHHHAHAHAHA!”

Containing their lessening chuckles, the party continued on at their snail, or rather, ox’s pace.

“Ow!” said Erevan unexpectedly. His head cocked to the side as his hood fell off of his head.

This illicited several questioning looks.

“Something pulled my ear.” Erevan said in answer to the confused looks. He rubbed the side of his head.

Festus just ducked down further into the cart, as if it might protect him. “You see. It begins.”

In an instant, the small band was beset by a number of curious things.

Haelan, who had sat back down during his laughing, kicked up his feet and yelled. “GAH! Something’s in my foot-hairs!”

Coerraine watched in facinsation as the hair of his steed’s mane was woven into a kind of hammock or basket with alarming, surpernatural speed. The horse seemed not to care until some unseen force seemed to pluck down into the woven hair. It let out an alarmed whiny and shook its head, but due to the Redstar Knight’s control of the horse, did not bolt.

Duor’s beard mysteriously pulled out away from his chest and began being braided.

“Feorn’s beard!” the dwarf exclaimed. “Wut the…Get offa there!” He swatted repeatedly at his beard but every time it returned to his chest, it floated out again and continued braiding.

“AHHH! Get them off! Get them off me!!!” shriekd Festus in utter panic, swatting and kicking at some unseen assailant.

Alaria was suddenly aware of something tugging at her waist. She quickly slapped a hand onto the pouch holding the Ihs Repahl and felt something squirming around in the pouch. Then she felt the same thing in one of her spell component pouches on her other side.

“Fen, what?!” the wizardess said in alarm. She felt the squirming in the pouch with the crystal orb subside. Determining the “pixies” may, unbelievably, prove a real threat, Alaria began to cast her cantrip of magical sight. “Arkan…”

Fen placed a soft hand upon Alaria’s arm. “Allow me, Magess.” He smiled.

With an unheard enchantment and a wave of his arm, blue flames spread out before the druid and clung to various places around them. One, two, then more small shapes, no bigger than a foot long/tall, became ensconced in the flickering harmless fire.

One was in the mane of Coerraine’s horse. One flitted around Haelan, next to one at the tip of Duor’s beard (that again released the chin hair as Dur swatted at it again). One seemed to hover before Erevan’s face, though the elf had not complained of anything since his ear was first tugged. One was flitting wildly around Festus. The last stuck its head out of Alaria’s spell component pouch and let out a small sneeze. Six in all.

“No fun! No fair!” came a small voice before a foot-tall bright blue tiny humanoid of indistinct gender with a flowing puff of even brighter light blue hair and transluscent blue wings became visible just before Erevan’s face. It put its hands on its tiny hips and with amazing speed flitted over to hang in the air in front of Fen. “Ooooo. Green One.” The tiny blue fairy said in apparent awe, reaching forward tentatively to poke at the druid’s sun/crescent moon cloak clasp.

With the appearance of the blue pixie, the others appeared to have no qualms with also becoming visible. One bright red, harvest gold, an ivy-like green, lavender and a russet orange. Each had a bdy all one color, genders were nondescript on any of them. Their hair and wings each sparkled with some hue similar to their bodies.

“I found the First One!” shouted the golden pixie from its lounging place in Coerraine’s mount’s mane. “First Ones is better!”

“SHHK!” hushed the blue pixie at its companion. “I’s found a Green One. Green Ones is all picty-friends. Green Ones is better.”

As they flitted and moved around, trails of sparkling light seems to fall off of them and wink out of existence before hitting the ground.

The lavender one, which had been twirling around Festus brought itself to a landing upon the satyr’s head, gripping a horn in each hand and swaying to and fro.

“I found the Horny One.” The aple purple pixie said with great pride.

“Get offa me!” Festus protested, swatting at his head.

The lavender pixie took off, avoiding the swat, and placed its hands on its hips. “Bad Horny!” it said in attempt chastisement.

“What about the Witchy One? Pretty Witchy too!” Asked the orange one as it flitted itself out of Alaria’s component pouch. “Witchy Ones make us all burny!” the orange pixie said in disapproval as it looked at the blue flames that licked around their forms.

“Actually,” Fen interrupted, “that was me.”

“Not nice, Green One. Not nice. No fair!” the blue one wagged a tiny finger at the half-elf. Fen couldn’t help but smile.

“Fen…” Alaria questioned softly, as if the pixies wouldn’t hear her, “What do they want?”

“Want? We’s PICTIES!” the blue one began. The green and lavender and orange pixies joined the blue one, now hovering before Alaria. “We wants FUN!” they all said in unison, throwing their hands into the air. Sparkles the color of each pixie shot off their sudden gestures and all of the fairies giggled.

“But no more burnies!” the green pixie flitted back over to Fen and again wagged a finger at the druid. “Make go away!” the fairy waved its arm, as if to put out the flickering blue flames. It tried blowing with all of its might. Its cheeks became impossibly large and it appeared to get so thin as it exhaled to make Alaria question whether the things had any bones at all. It turned back to the druid when the blue flames continued to lick at its skin. “Make go away!”

“Oh come on.” Fen said with his charming smile. “Burnies no burn. If you promise to stay visible I’ll get rid of the faeriefire…er…burny.”

“Faerie Fire Faerie Fire ring around the Faerie Fire” all of the pixies, except the golden one who seemed to have fallen asleep in the horse mane hammock, joined hands in mid-air and chanted sing-songily as they circled.

Alaria could hardly believe this. She had met the occasional sprite. They were fairly common messengers and servants of the best magical houses. She’d even been introduced to one who accompanied a wizard as his personal scribe and apprentice. But pixies and other of the Fayekin she had only read about. What she was sure about was that they could not dally any longer. The light was quickly fading.

“I’ll tell you what,” the druid said, seemingly reading the wizard’s thoughts, “you can have as much fun as you want for the remainder of our journey. But we must continue on and you must remain visible and not cause us any harm. How’s that?” He finished flashing his best smile.

The other pixies all looked to the blue one. The blue one stared at Fen, one of its solid sky blue eyes squinted in a comical fashion.

“How’s that!” it finally said. Again, all of the pixies came together, joined hands and sang and flitted around in a circle in mid-air before the druid and wizard. “How’s That! How’s That! Ring around the How’s That!”

Haelan giggled at the fairies antics.

“Oy gods.” Duor grumbled.

“I told you…” Festus said in a hushed tone.

“I think we’re good.” Fen said in aside to Alaria.

Fen dismissed his spell and the pixies spread out to go about their “fun making.”

The better part of an hour later, Festus sat with his goateed chin in his palm, leaning against the side of the cart. He stared dully into the countryside as the cart rumbled by. His lower goat-quarters were a fluorescent pink. Two of the pixies were humming sweetly as they traced out white, daisy shaped polka-dots along his haunches. His normally wild chestnut hair had been woven into corn-rows and his horn twined with ivy vines and bright violet and yellow pansies.

Alaria had been granted a crown of brightly colored wildflowers with the occasional pixie flitting up to her state, over and over, ‘Pretty Witchy.”

Coerraine rode on, carrying himself with as much dignity as he could muster, while his golden locks levitated, straight up, from his head.

The golden pixie had awoken when the faerie fire had been dismissed and taken to braiding and twisting Coerraine’s hair, untangling all of it and doing it over and over again in a variety of styles. It had gotten bored and left the paladin’s hair floating free while it took another doze in the mane-basket it, apparently, had crafted.

All of the horses’ manes and tails were adorned with braids and twists and clutches of flowers that were sorely out of season, yet bloomed as brightly as if it were the first day of spring. Occasionally two or three pixies would cluster around another’s work and affirm. “Pretty?” “Pretty.” “Yes pretty.” “Very PRITty!”

Erevan had been awarded a wreathe of ivy and holly leaves.

“Crown for the First One!” exclaimed the green pixie with glee.

The holly poked, uncomfortably into his scalp, but the elf did not complain, understanding as much as Fen that the best way to deal with the pixies was to just let them be. Besides, the elf reasoned, if he removed it, they would just do something else to him.

For his grumpiness and constant swatting at anything attempted on his person, the pixies had ringed around Duor’s head and caused his face to turn purple and his nose to grow to troll-like proportions. Fen calmed the dwarf, who initially refused to go “not one inch further”, that they would remove the spell before they left.

“Pixie magic is as fickle as the fairies themselves.” The druid mentioned. He smiled with mild regret when all of the pixies again joined hands and “danced” in mid-air chanting “Fickle Faerie! Fickle Faerie. Ring around the Fickle Faerie!” before bursting into giggles and going about their business.

Haelan actually played along with the fairies. He let them adorn his foot hair with berries and bright flowers. Change the hair color from one rainbow hue to another. All the while, the daelvar smiled and chuckled with the pixies, egging them on. “Yes, very nice. Oo, I like that one. Yes, very pretty!”

Duor resisted the repeated urge to smack the cleric off the cart.

The cart finally crested the ridge and the lights of Farthing Cross glowed into the deep twilight.

“OK! We’re here!” Duor and Festus said in unison.

“Not nice Snouty Ugly One! Not nice Horny One!” the pixies protested at first.

Before Fen could try to “reason” with the fairies, all of their heads jutted up and turned to the southwest.

“Dark Ones!” called the blue one.

Six pixies shot off from the party in six different directions. Six trails of sparkling pixiedust of colors to match their respective pixie streamed off behind them as first they, then the trail of sparkles all disappeared from view in a shimmer of the air.

Duor’s nose quickly shrank back to normal size and his skin color returned to normal. The dwarf felt his nose under furrowed brows. He turned to Haelan, “Is it fixed? Feels a bit big, still.”

“Uh…Dark Ones?” Alaria said with concern.

Heh. That's an amusing encounter. I think my current party would have gotten fed up and tried to kill them all.

Not to mention that I loved Festus' reaction...

wolff96 said:

Heh. That's an amusing encounter.

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That was the idea. Glad you liked it.

wolff96 said:

I think my current party would have gotten fed up and tried to kill them all.

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Always an option. lolol. Thankfully, my people played along...which was the more wise decision. Honestly, if they had shone up on Coerraine "evil-o-meter" (which obviously, pixies would not) then between the Red Star Knight, Festus' prodding and Duor's general "kill it, take it's stuff" attitude (and attempted "command" of Coerraine), a battle was a distinct option.

But given the general "friendliness" they had for Erevan and, specifically, the "Green One" [druid] Fen, thigns went fairly well.

wolff96 said:

Not to mention that I loved Festus' reaction...

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Yeah, that was great! And not "rehearsed." I granted that Festus, being a ranger of/familiar with Daenfrii, would have knowledge of the pixies location. But I wasn't expecting that! hahaha.

If I were to wager a guess, I would say that Festus was playing off of Haelan's near-phobia for undead (as presented before he "overcame" the ghouls).

But it was hysterical and totally lent to the mood and intention of the encounter. Made for a lot of laughs (those weren't "written in")...which was nice/good after the serious/darkness of the Shafton adventure. Got some extra "Role-play XP" outta that one, as I recall.

Hi SD, I just got done catching up on this story hour, and I wanted to let you know I'm really enjoying it!

I think your character development has been excellent, and I find things that interest me about each of the PCs. Is there more to Duor than good times and gold? How did Coerraine end up a Red Star? Will Braddock choose to return to the realm of the living? Will Haelan remain his cheerful self as the party faces greater, and darker, dangers?

I also like your use of dialog. Each character has a distinctive voice (though maybe none so much as Duor ) and adds a particular perspective to the conversation. I especially liked the dialog during the encounter with the kobolds in the mine in Shafton.

How far behind the campaign you're running is this recounting? And do you expect that we'll have much more to come? Here's hoping!

SolitonMan said:

Hi SD, I just got done catching up on this story hour, and I wanted to let you know I'm really enjoying it!

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Great! Thanks for reading. Welcome to Orea.

SolitonMan said:

I think your character development has been excellent, and I find things that interest me about each of the PCs.

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Cool. Glad you like it. Thanks.

SolitonMan said:

Is there more to Duor than good times and gold?

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At the moment [in the story], um...well...Not really, no. hahaha. Though he does thoroughly enjoy/get a kick out of having Coerraine as his "personal paladin." But he has some backstory that will be coming up at some point...and does "grow" as a character to like some other things...in addition to good times and gold, of course.

SolitonMan said:

How did Coerraine end up a Red Star?

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Well, that's more a setting thing than any real specific backstory. Paladins (as opposed to titled/landed "Knights") in Orea are not just roving "chivalric do-gooders" (like "Knights Errant"). They are members of a holy order. The Redstar Knights is one of the largest/best known with the largest structured organization spread across the Orean continent...attached/as a recognized branch of the religion/temple of Celradorn, god of battleskill and guardianship. So, when making a paladin PC, the Redstar Knights was the obvious choice.

SolitonMan said:

Will Braddock choose to return to the realm of the living?

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Well, I'm not spoiling/giving this away at point in the story.

SolitonMan said:

Will Haelan remain his cheerful self as the party faces greater, and darker, dangers?

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Again, remains to be seen.

SolitonMan said:

I also like your use of dialog. Each character has a distinctive voice (though maybe none so much as Duor ) and adds a particular perspective to the conversation. I especially liked the dialog during the encounter with the kobolds in the mine in Shafton.

Click to expand...

Thanks again.

SolitonMan said:

How far behind the campaign you're running is this recounting? And do you expect that we'll have much more to come? Here's hoping!

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This is an old campaign...and yes, there is much much more to go. Not to mention a few other "Tales of Orea" (of different groups/characters) left to be told.

More to come soon.
--Steel Dragons

Hey, just started reading this great story hour and really linking it so far (actually, I'm still on page 1). I'm currently reading about the group's adventure in Shoal and really love your highly evocative description of this village and its inhabitants!

Keep up with it!

An Unwelcome Meeting

No sooner had the pixies scattered and disappeared then a breeze whipped up out of the west. It rustled through the most stubborn remaining leaves and bare branches of the wood they'd recently passed.

The evening which had been quickly becoming more and more chilled as the sun finally gave up its final light took on a decided icy feeling.

Alaria shivered despite her thick traveling robe and cloak.

Several of the party members visibly jumped as a score of black birds took wing out of the woods. Alaria could not be sure what they were in the shifting light as the faltering twilight gave way to the partial silver moon.

Ravens, Fen confirmed from the size and shape.

"Quickly!" Alaria commanded. "Unyoke the ox. Fen, hitch your horse and mine to the cart. I will ride with Erevan. We must make more time. I fear Farthing Cross is not our destination."

"What?!" Coerraine and Duor both questioned.

Haelan looked confused as well. "What are we supposed to do with Mr. Oxybritches?" the daelvar asked.

"Seriously?" Duor muttered under his beard with a roll of the eyes at the halfling. "I've had it up to my fairy-cursed nose with 'cutesy' for today."

Fen, also questioning, but moving to do as Alaria said as the magess looked with great concern toward the woods to their west and south.

"Erevan, be ready with your light spell." Alaria said again. Her tone taking on the commanding notes that they had become very accustomed to before becoming a "company of equals" in Bridgetower.

The elf nodded ever so slightly. His bow was already knocked. He too, felt something uneasy in the wind and the pixies' sudden and seemingly alarmed departure.

"Alaria, I think the long day's travel may be getting to you. We'll be to the town in a few moments." Coerraine offered as kindly as he could.

He looked down upon the lit lanterns and flickering from behind windows below them in Farthing Cross. To call it a "town" was being more than generous, the paladin realized. The collection of buildings, no more than five or six structures, surrounded a large open square at the crossing of the road they had traveled all day and one that seemed to run west to east.

Truth be told, the Redstar admitted to himself, if they did stop at the inn there, they were certainly not in an easily or well-defensible position.

"Arkanivis" was Alaria's response.

She scanned the woods and almost immediately saw what she suspected the pixies meant by "dark ones". Long slender shapes curved and slithered their way among the trees, a few feet above the forest floor. Their shadowy length becoming visible as they passed through momentary moonbeam breaks in the darkness, only to utterly disappear in the thick shadows. Only her arcane detection spell allowed her to make out the violet glow of their serpentine forms as they passed through the trees' shadows and drew nearer.

"Shadow snakes are coming. Two from what I can tell." Alaria blurted.

At this, Coerraine immediately put himself between the cart and Duor (and Alaria) and the woods. An unheard prayer caused the golden light of the paladin's protective field to flare into view for a moment. Its circumference easily encompassed the whole cart and party members. Erevan, still astride his mount, sat just at the edge.

The party had explained to Festus their previous encounter with the shade creatures and dove under the tarp covering the cart's load of trasure sacks and chests. He began rifling through them.

Duor pulled his ethereal dagger from its scabbard and nocked his hand crossbow, anticipating Haelan's blessing of their weapons that would allow the band's mostly mundane blades and bolts to strike the creatures.

Fen had gotten the ox unhitched and was hooking up his own horse as quickly as he could.

Alaria dismounted in preparation for her horse to be haphazardly attached to the cart as well. Her hand slipped into the pouch holding the Ihs Repahl. She gripped her staff in the other, her knuckles turned white around the shaft for anyone who would have been able to see.

"They are larger than the others we saw. Much longer! They're almost here. Make ready." the wizard apprised her companions.

"Deisa Faerantha, dicteus beneficia spiritos y tiem paras!" the holy words flew from Haelan's lips.

The reassuring honey-colored glow flickered across the weapons of himself, Alaria, Duor and Erevan. Festus was still under the tarp, but it was presumed his weapon as well was enchanted due to proximity to Haelan. Fen's spear tip did not take the goddess' blessing, as usual. Coerraine's own spear blade already pulsed with the golden light of his Lord and God.

The shadow snakes broked the edge of the trees making straight for the party.

"Now, Erevan. Over the cart!" Alaria called.

Without a questioning thought, Erevan threw his ball of magic light into the air, as Alaria had asked.

With the burst of yellow white light, the two serpentine creatures became easily visible in the magical radiance. Each was easily about ten feet long and a solid two or three feet around. Their glowing red eyes became visible just before their darkness seemed to solidify and become visible to normal sight in the new light source.

"Krikey! What happened to those four-foot jobbies?" called Haelan as the giant snakes became visible.

"Bollux!" was Duor's exclamation of choice before going on to mention, "Gonna need more'n my green dagger fer these ones!"

The creatures swooped straight for the cart only to be momentarily halted about twenty feet away by Coerraine holy field.

"Everx zaar!" Alaria conjured. The two bolts of blue-violet energy shot forth and struck one of the serpents. A foot or so section of its shadowy form seemed disrupted where the magic missles struck, losing cohesion before it quickly reformed, replaced the darkness, until it looked again like a whole undamaged solid blackness.

The monster let out a defiant hiss. Its opened maw visible by the same unearthly red glow which showed the location of its eyes.

The second creature, recovered from the initial shock of the Redstar Knight's protection, again dove for the cart. It pierced the field with visible golden sparks trailing along its length as it passed through and wove its way through the air straight for Alaria.

Coerraine interceded with a decisive stab of his spear. The paladin was disappointed that these creatures, like their smaller species, did not register to his divine sight as "evil". But no matter, the young blond warrior thought, I know why they've come and who they were sent by.
The Redstar's glowing spear sunk deeply into the creature's side, leaving a visible slice of red light as the creature coiled passed and hissed in pain.

An arrow struck it from Erevan's bow. The bolt, one of the enchanted arrows collected from the kobolds' treasure room also struck the solid looking blackness and held there. The elf, satisfied with the strike, drew another of the limited few magic arrows in his quiver.

The other shadow snake (which Alaria's spell had struck) also made its way into the protected area and made to float itself over the cart toward Alaria.

At this time, Festus came bursting out from beneath the tarp, the enchanted short sword from the kobold's trove in one had and his falchion in the other. The short sword shimmered with a pale silver light of its own while his falchion glowed with the honey-colored light of Haelan's invocation.

The satyr lept up to strike the passing snake with both weapons. The trailing slices of red light against the creature's shadow form were apparent and the snake, in total surprise and what they presumed to be pain, reared up higher into the air. It coiled around and hissed down at the ranger before making a dive straight for him.

A telling blow from Haelan's mace and a slash of the ethereal green dagger whizzed out from Duor. Both struck, diverting the snake's attack. Duor's blade did not leave a red strike upon the creature but instead seemed to ignite the creature with its green "fire".

Remarkably fast, the whole length of the shadow snake was writhing about in the air over the cart, entirely engulfed in the smoky green energy. An instant later, the creature simply dissipated in a cloud of green and shredding shadow. Its "death-throw" hissing echoed away as the strange ethereal energy faded from view.

"Huh. Maybe we don't need more'n my dagger." Duor looked at the green glowing blade in satisfied surprise.

The snake that had been injured by Coerraine also coiled about to face its attacker. In a blur of blackness, it coiled around the Redstar Knight's horse. Coerraine either dove or fell off from the assault, it was difficult to tell which as he landed in a symphony of clangs and grunts.

The paladin regained its footing and readied his next strike in time to watch in horror, as did the rest of the party, as the horse shrieked, reared and kicked with the serpent around it.

The horse's coat, mane and tail seemed to drain of all color. Its skin began to shrivel and cling to the skeleton beneath as it seemed the entire creature were being aged and desiccated before their eyes. The fearful shrieking and thrashing ended in a moment.

The equine corpse fell over, most completely dead, as the serpent released its prey and wove its way back into the air. It looked down at Coerraine for a moment before twirling around and "slithering" through the air toward Alaria again.

Fen, who had just completed his make-shift harnessing of the riding horses who balked and whinnied in fear, jabbed the slight green-glowing leaf-shaped blade of his spear into the air as the creature passed over him, diving down toward Alaria. The spear blade sank into the belly of the creature and continued to tear several feet of the snake's length as it continued its dive.

The creature hissed in unexpected pain as its face drew closer and closer to the magess.

Alaria thrust the silver tip of her staff before her, closing her eyes out of reflex as she did so. She opened them when no impact occured in time to see the creature writhe in the air before her to separate and shred into pieces of inky blackness that faded out of view not an arm's length before her staff.

Erevan's two arrows which had been stuck in the snake fell harmlessly to the ground.

All of the party stood for a moment in tense expectation. Waiting for the creatures to re-manifest. When they did not, Alaria ran over to Erevan's horse and with a helping arm from the elf, swung herself up onto the mount behind him.

"Let's go. Hurry! We're not stopping at Farthing Cross. We make straight for the Vale." the wizardess commanded. Fear was evident in her voice.

Coerraine jumped up into the cart seat. This shoved Duor uncomfortably to the side. The shifting dwarf, further, nearly sent Haelan flying off the cart on the other side. Without complaint, the daelvar's child-like face full of worry, jumped over into the back of the cart with Festus.

"Let's go half-blood! Get outta the way!" the testy dwarf shouted at the druid.

Fen was seemingly talking to the horses in soft tones. "Alaria," the druid eventually said, "the horses are exhausted. They've been ridden all day. I've calmed them a bit and they've agreed to push themselves as far as they can. But I sincerely doubt we will make the Vale without stopping."

"As far as we can go then. We must get ourselves into the protection of the Dragonmage as soon as possible. Stopping here would be folly." the magess said as Erevan swung his horse around to face the cart again.

Fen nodded and relayed this, or something like it, to the horses before running around the back of the cart and jumping in with the satyr and halfling.

"Uh...Alaria..." Haelan said, pointing up the road from them, causing all of the party to follow the halfling priest's fearful gaze.

About fifty feet ahead of the party, a black "bump" formed in the middle of the road. The blackness grew to about the height of a man before the darkness receded to reveal a small dragon skull visor shrouding the top half of a grey bearded face. Cascading layers of black robes hung off of the slightly hunched form that held a gnarled staff of black wood in one hand.

While any details were difficult to see in the rising moonlight, all in the party could "hear" the smile on the figure's lips as it spoke.

"Greetings, Magess Alaria of Ablidon. It is so nice to finally make your acquaintance." said Tresahd.