Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
Mena finished buckling on her new greaves and turned to listen. "We build a small raft," Kormick continued. "We paddle out to the middle of the lake. We tie a rope around the midsection of young Master Octavian. We lower him into the water to see if he spots the ruins of an ancient Alirrian shrine down in the murky depths."
"No," said Mena.
"Why not? He's a strong youth, good lungs, his armor would weigh him down beautifully –"
"No."
"How about we lower you?" Tavi asked Kormick.
"Swimming is not a popular hobby in Dar Und. Drowning, yes. And certainly our waterways are useful for the concealment of corpses that one would rather not see rotting in the streets and provoking uncomfortable investigations. But I do not swim."
"You'll have a rope tied around you," Tavi pointed out.
Kormick hesitated, then allowed: "Perhaps there is another way to determine if this is the site of Alirria's spring."
Savina stepped forward. "I – I prayed to Alirria this morning about it, but I didn't feel anything special. This place just – just doesn't feel very holy to me." Hearing Savina's usual shyness in her voice, Mena thought, I must reassure the child that her ideas are always welcome.
"I would rather rely on empirical testing than prayer," said Kormick.
"I – I could be wrong," said Savina. "What did Kettenek tell you?"
Kormick stared at Savina. "Um, yes," he said. "Kettenek's proclamations are – vague on this point."
"Since when does Kettenek issue vague proclamations?" demanded Tavi.
Rose spoke up. "Regardless of Kettenek, my mother is rarely vague. She told me once that the spring was in a small vale. The water had no inlet or outlet. This place –" Rose pointed to the thundering waterfall that spilled out of the lake to the west " – has an outlet."
Tavi had been staring at the lake speculatively. "Isn't it possible that the rockslide dammed the spring and created this lake? Maybe I should take a look –"
"You aren't going diving," Mena declared in exasperation. "A tree attacked us. No telling what the fish would do."
"This place just – just doesn't feel right," insisted Savina.
Twiggy, who had been studying the shoreline, spoke up. "If this place had flooded in the last twenty years, we'd see the stumps of trees in the water. It looks to me like this lake has been here a lot longer than our lifetimes."
"Daughter Savina," said Mena, "did your prayers this morning give you any inspiration about where we should go?"
Savina hesitated. Mena looked at her kindly and steadily, not pushing her but not letting her off the hook, either. The others, mercifully, stayed silent.
"Well," the girl said finally, "we – we were following the buds on the trees, because they're a sign of Alirria. Water belongs to her, too. So following the water should keep us on Alirria's path."
"I like that idea," said Mena. Tavi nodded, and with that, the decision was made.
They set out the next morning, clambering down the rocky slope beside the rushing waterfall and then following the fast-flowing stream west through the thick forest. Kormick, in the lead, winced as a branch whacked him in the face. "If this is Alirria's path," he grumbled, "then, if we all die horribly, I suppose that's Alirria's will?"
"That wouldn't be very Alirrian!" burst out Savina.
Kormick chuckled.
Hours later, near midday, they heard a distinct cooing sound to the north. It stood out against the normal background of the forest's noises, resonant and jubilant.
"Mating calls," declared Kormick, after listening carefully.
"Well," said Savina, "if we followed the budding trees, and we followed the water, now we should follow the sex."
Tavi burst into laughter as Phoebe darted off in the direction of the bird calls.
"No, I'm laughing at Phoebe.,” Tavi replied. “She said, 'At least someone's having fun around here.'"
They turned north.
###
The next day, when they arose, a column of smoke lay lazily against the morning sky, rising from a spot several dales farther north, near their planned route.
The young people were intrigued and eager to hit the trail. Mena, Kormick, and Arden exchanged wary glances, sure that this meant trouble.
"Slave," said Kormick, "hike over there and scream if anything kills you." Arden surprised Mena by raising her eyebrows in the barest hint of amused defiance, but Mena knew that Arden couldn’t refuse an order, even one apparently made in jest. There was more to that girl than she let on, and the Defier was curious. She was also a little tired of Kormick's jokes at Arden's expense.
"Rose, the safest choice is for you to send Whisper."
Rose nodded in agreement, and raised the pseudo-dragon on her arm. After a quiet moment of communication, Whisper coasted off toward the smoke. The others broke camp as they waited.
Whisper returned about half an hour later, making a steep dive down to Rose's shoulder and staring at her intensely.
"Oh!" said Rose, startled. She quickly contained herself, but caught the group's eyes. "Um, Whisper says – there isn't much to see – " Rose glanced sharply to the side of the clearing, a warning look.
Tavi stiffened. Mena slid her eyes in the direction of Rose's gaze. Although she saw nothing, she recognized the warning in Rose’s eyes and casually dropped her hand to her flail.
"Slave," said Kormick, a bit louder than necessary, "we need firewood."
Arden bowed her head without hesitation. "Yes, Justicar," she said, sliding her hand to the dagger on her belt and walking to the opposite side of the clearing, away from Rose's glance. The one time he sincerely sends her into danger, Mena thought, she knowingly goes in. Arden was stealthy and careful, of course, and it was a wise choice for the Justicar to send her. But how curious that the girl seemed to have no trouble facing danger for her companions when it was necessary. Mena had known warriors who lacked that kind of courage. Admirable, and an interesting puzzle.
Arden vanished among the trees.
Silence fell.
"That troublesome slave," said Kormick, heartily.
Silence.
"Um, so, Savina," said Tavi, "how's that new armor working out?"
Suddenly, from the trees that Rose had marked with her gaze, Arden cried out, unmistakably in pain. Then came the crashing sound of someone running.
Mena was off in a heartbeat – sparing a glance to confirm that Tavi wouldn’t budge from his spot shielding Rose. Kormick ran close behind Mena. They plunged into the trees and saw Arden crumpled on the ground, a vicious-looking arrow protruding from her upper arm. "That way," Arden gasped, pointing unnecessarily, since whoever had shot her was making a loud retreat through the underbrush.
Mena followed. She leaped over logs and shoved past thick branches as if they weren't there, ignoring the strikes on her face. Kormick fell behind, but Mena only ran faster; she was gaining on her quarry. She glimpsed him ahead: someone with short legs, stocky. Someone, in other words, not as fast as she was.
Then the little archer tripped. Mena raced forward as he stood up, saw her, and raised his crossbow to make a stand. He was the size of a dwarf, but although he had a long mustache, he lacked a beard. Mena closed with him in three strides and shoved past his bow, grabbing the topknot on the dome of his head and yanking. Hard.
He staggered and growled.
Kormick caught up, staring at Mena, his mouth dropping open less in exhaustion than in sheer appreciation. "You are an incredibly attractive woman," he gasped.
Mena grinned grimly, and yanked the topknot again, not so much to cause pain as to remind the little man that he had her attention, and that that was not the most enviable position. Her armor roiled and hissed. Her captive growled again and snapped at her.
"Careful," said Kormick to him. "This insane yet undeniably mesmerizing harridan will gut you where you stand. And if she leaves you your tongue, perhaps next you and I will have a little chat."
The prisoner growled once more: words this time. It's Dwarven, Mena realized. Horribly corrupt Dwarven. Which makes you, my friend, a derro.
She let go of the derro's topknot, reached down, and grabbed the creature in a decidedly different location. She twisted. He shrieked.
"You hurt one of my friends," explained Mena in calm Dwarven, as if speaking to a child.
"Unhand! Unhand!" the derro wailed. "Find you all, death come under!"
"Something below the ground is apparently going to kill us all," Mena translated for Kormick. "It is strange to see a derro this far south. The maps we saw suggested that they live much farther north."
"Let's take him back to camp and have a civilized conversation about that." Kormick readied one of his warhammers. "I've missed creatures with kneecaps."
Mena shook her head. "I have no wish to expose Rose to this creature. You—” she turned back to the derro “--what are you doing here?"
"Our rock. What doing you?"
"I don't believe you've earned the right to ask questions. I want to know why you have traveled to this place."
"Death come under. Lurx. All kill, all kill." He grinned, showing teeth.
"How many of you are there?"
"Enough to all kill when find from below."
"Yes darling, all kill, I got that." This really is like trying to get philosophy out of a toddler, she thought. A murderous, cannibalistic toddler, but still. "How many? Numbers."
The derro stared at Mena. Maybe they don't use numbers, she realized. Then he grunted: "Better than yesterday."
"You mean your forces are growing? Where are they coming from?"
"Our rock."
"Why did you shoot at my friend?"
"Our rock."
Mena sighed in exasperation and changed tactics. "What is the fire over the dale?"
The derro looked surprised. Then he snarled, "Our good fortune."
"Why? What are you doing here?"
"Lurx here."
Mena cast her mind back over the Dwarven grammar texts she'd studied and determined that, syntactically – insofar as this creature was capable of syntax – Lurx was a proper name. "Lurx is a person? A tribe? What?"
"Lurx hundred. Big. Better tomorrow."
"Where is Lurx?"
"Our rock beneath."
"I see. What does Lurx feed on?"
The derro frowned, as if the answer were obvious. "Fungus," he said. But then he grinned: "And trespassers."
In a moment that I can only describe as a personal triumph, at our last game, jonrog--let me say that again--JONROG, as Kormick, basically said "I don't feel good about killing these enemies of ours who are now our helpless prisoners. Perhaps we should let them go instead."
In fact, he not only said it, he fought for it. For real.
A peek into the future there from Fajitas -- to give you a sense, Ilex's post above was the start of session 4 (which we played in mid-March), and the BRILLIANT character moment that Fajitas just described was from the session this past Sunday, which I believe was session 10. So there's a lot to look forward to! Stay tuned.
As for today's post, Ilex has had a catastrophic hard drive failure (Great woe! Send sympathy!) so the post will be a tad delayed. Soon! Promise.
Don't worry about it; with the way the boards have been, I'd have just chalked up any delay to "they probably can't even get to the boards, never mind actually post something".
PS: Good luck with the fried HD -- I hope everything got at least mostly backed up!
__________________ - Bob Huss
[H]e's dead and poisoned and possibly insane on another plane. It's a very stylish death, but a definitive one. - Piratecat
Last edited by coyote6; 31st July 2009 at 05:26 PM..
Excellent point, coyote6. Posting is taking roughly one million years right now. In fact, posting this little comment before the main update was a silly thing for me to do, because now this whole process is going to take roughly two million years.
And everyone, back up your files. In the blessed names of all the gods, do it NOW. Because somewhere, deep in your hard drives, Sedellus lurks…
Mena tried, but she couldn't learn any more useful information from the captive derro. Finally, in resignation, she turned to Kormick.
"We'll need to bring him with us, after all," she said. "I am reluctant to kill him until we know more about what we're facing here."
"Why kill when you can immobilize?" asked the Justicar cheerfully. Before Mena could blink, Kormick smashed the derro's foot with his warhammer. The derro screamed in agony. Dragging their prisoner with them, they returned to camp.
Mena checked automatically to make sure that Tavi was still guarding Rose. He was. Savina had helped Arden remove the arrow from her arm and bind up the wound. Arden stood up with an air of determination as her attacker entered camp, but she looked pained and pale. The journey has weakened her, thought Mena, making a mental note. She was perhaps also not strong to begin with. Slavery leaves few opportunities to build reserves, cursed institution.
Savina looked nearly as pained as Arden as she heard – and understood – an appalling series of corrupt Dwarven curses issuing from the prisoner's mouth.
"Should I – I suppose I could heal him – " she ventured.
Privately admiring the girl's sincere if misplaced compassion, Mena turned to the derro. "If you help us," she said, "we will heal you. Do you understand?"
"Lurx come. Many boots. Eat you all."
Mena rolled her eyes. The creature's refrain was growing tedious.
"Rose," she asked, "kindly tell us what Whisper learned about the fire over the hill."
"It's a burning wagon. Whisper says it looked like part of a caravan of some kind," said Rose, her face pale. "It looked like there'd been an attack. There were broken wagons, dead ponies, dead . . . dead people. He said there seemed to be one still alive."
The Twilight Bitch has been busy, Mena thought. What she said aloud was, "We ought to render what aid we can to the survivor – carefully."
"Not to be difficult," asked Twiggy, "but are we sure this is a good idea? What if it's a trap?"
"We need intel," said Kormick.
"We – we have to help a person in need," insisted Savina. "That's part of Alirria's path, too."
"We have to be systematic and rule out danger," explained Mena.
"And if you're that worried about it, we'll send the slave ahead to check things out," concluded Kormick.
"We can't send Arden," Twiggy objected. "She's hurt because you already made her sneak around once."
"I'm willing to go, Lady Chelesta," Arden volunteered unexpectedly.
"There you go," said Kormick.
Twiggy bit her lip, thinking. Mena watched her with distracted pride. She had seen Twiggy ponder problems in her classroom with just this kind of careful consideration, and she was always pleased to see it. Then Twiggy looked at Savina. "Helping someone does seem like Alirria's path," she agreed. "All right."
"Tavi," said Mena, sure that he knew what she was going to say yet unable to break the habit of saying it, "Rose is not to be out of your sight."
"Yeah," answered Tavi, "and the sun rose this morning, too."
###
Tavi watched as the Justicar and the slavewoman crept down the hill to get a closer look at the attack site. He was concealed nearby with Rose and the rest of the party out of an abundance of caution. Tavi had understood the phrase abundance of caution since he was a small boy. He accepted it. But he didn't have to enjoy it.
Taaaaaaaa-viiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.
I know, Pheebs.
There is a mystery down there. There might be danger!
I think we're too late for the danger on this one. But you're right about the mystery.
Then why are we here? We could be there, we could be down there right now looking all around for clues and finding a trail the bad guys left and running after them really really really fast, you know how much I like running, Tavi, run run run! And then the fighting!
You know how Arden has to do what people tell her to do, Pheebs?
I know – she's so boring – back when the Justicar said she might stab us in our sleep, I got excited, but she hasn't even tried!
My point is that we all have duties, Pheebs. And right now, my duty is to wait here.
No one lets you have any fun.
Kormick and Arden reappeared from the underbrush. "It's safe," said Kormick. "But it's not pretty."
Tavi and the others followed Kormick down the hill. They paused again behind some shrubs on the edge of the attack site. From there, Tavi could see everything. Broken wagons tilted like shipwrecks on their remaining wheels. Dead ponies lay before them, still in their harnesses. Four dead dwarves lay in a neat line, not far from one burnt and smoldering wagon that gave off a thin column of smoke.
A dwarf was hitching herself along the ground, clearly injured, pulling a fifth dead body toward the others.
Seeing her, Savina began to step forward, but Mena grabbed her arm, stopping her. "She may not be...entirely trusting just now. And you are entirely too trusting." Tavi groaned inwardly. Gods, there has to be such a thing as a superabundance of caution, he thought.
Mena walked forward instead of Savina.
"Do you need assistance?" she asked, in Dwarven, as she strode into the massacre site.
The dwarven woman turned, one hand flying to the ax at her hip. She was young. Her face was streaked with dirt and smoke. And she was very pregnant. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"We're travelers," said Mena. "Do you need assistance?"
The woman's jaw clenched, and then she said one word: "Please."
Savina was already running.
That's the spirit!
Tavi hurried up with the others as Savina dropped to her knees beside the young woman and laid gentle hands upon the dwarf's leg. "It's broken," she told them, and then turned to the woman and asked in Dwarven, "What's your name?"
"Corani. Corani Rockminder." Savina closed her eyes and concentrated. Corani sighed with relief as Savina's prayers took effect. "What happened here?" asked Savina.
Tavi listened carefully to Corani's answer, noticing with amusement that Savina was editing out the dwarf's embittered obsenities as she translated the story for those who didn't speak Dwarven: "She and her husband and her sister-wives travel here every eight years to mine stone. He's a master stoneworker. He knows this area really well, and they've never had any trouble. But this time, they were attacked by – by – in our Lady's name, that's an especially rude word – by a party of derro. Corani survived by playing dead after her leg was broken. The derro killed all these people – and then they took her husband, her sister-wives, all the children, and a few others away with them as prisoners."
Tavi –
Trust me, Pheebs, I know; I want to take down whoever did this as fast as I possibly can.
Mena was telling Corani about the derro who had shot Arden.
"A scout," said Corani. "Did he get away?"
"No," said Mena.
"Is he still alive?" Corani demanded.
"For like nine and a half more minutes," said Kormick, and pointed to the edge of the clearing, where the bound derro was awaiting his fate.
"Will it help you to kill it?" asked Mena.
Corani got a better grip on her ax and stood up. A grim silence fell.
Twiggy spoke up. "Why do we have to kill it?" she asked softly.
Mena turned to the derro. "If we spare your life," she asked it, "will you do the same for us?"
The derro grinned. "All kill," it hissed.
"That's why," said Mena, gently but firmly, to Twiggy. Twiggy nodded her understanding.
"Plus, it hurt Arden," added Tavi. He hadn't felt any need to question the execution of their prisoner, but now that they were on the brink of it, he wanted to make sure everyone knew how justified it was. Technically speaking, after all, he was in charge; it was his decision.
The slavewoman looked startled that a nobleman had acknowledged her. But then she startled Tavi in return. "Signor Octavian," she said, "may it please you, don't kill him in my name."
Gods, she's sooo boring.
"We kill it in the name Rockminder," said Corani, after Savina translated Arden's words.
"Okay," said Kormick. "How do you want to handle this? Should we – "
Corani strode past the Justicar. She strode past Tavi. And she split the derro's skull open with her ax.
The group watched Corani in stunned silence as she stood over the executed derro prisoner. Then Mena turned to the dwarf. "Blood has been shed," she said. "Let us see that it was not shed in vain."
Arden looked away, only to see the dead dwarves. Between that sight and the summary execution of the prisoner, she felt unbalanced, like the ground under her feet had shifted.
Savina was looking at the dead dwarves, too. "We must bury them," she said softly. "Arden, help me."
They all helped, finishing the task Corani had started: gathering the dwarven bodies together and piling rocks over them into a low cairn. When they had finished their work, they formed a rough circle around the pile of stones, awaiting – with unspoken agreement – what came next. Mena alone walked quietly away, taking up a position at the edge of the clearing.
Arden looked at Kormick.
Everyone looked at Kormick.
"Justicar," said Savina, gently urging.
"Yes, Blessed Daughter? What can I do for you?"
"The funeral prayers . . . ?"
"Me? Oh, no no no, dear girl, I wouldn't know what to say. Surely you, as a priestess – "
"But you serve Kettenek."
Kormick looked at Savina blankly.
"The god of the dead?" Tavi prompted.
"—What? I mean, right. The god of the dead. Of course he is." Kormick dug around in his pack and produced a small, shiny Kettenite holy text that looked suspiciously pristine. He began to flip through it, muttering chapter headings to himself.
Arden wasn't sure whether she felt more like laughing or weeping. Alleged the Just strikes again, she thought, but she couldn't help rooting for him.
"You see, in Dar Und, we don't have a lot of funerals per se," Kormick muttered, still flipping pages. "Unmarked graves are more popular – ah ha, here we are. Basic funerary rites. Ho-kay, we begin: 'Earth Father, Ground of Being, Heart of Stone . . . '"
Savina translated his words into Dwarven for Corani. She was probably glossing over the rough parts and adding in a few soothing phrases of her own, Arden guessed, because Corani didn't look offended despite Alleged's halting, unconvincing delivery. The instant the Justicar snapped the book shut with a sigh of relief, however, Corani turned to Savina.
“Now I must save my family from their captors. I would value your aid if you would give it. If not, I understand, and will go alone.”
Arden eyed Corani, each hand resting on the handle of an axe, her pregnant – very pregnant – belly protruding before her. The dwarf could hardly walk, let alone fight. If the freepeople won't help her . . . . The thought unbalanced Arden again. Semi-consciously, her hand gripped the cuff on her other wrist, running her thumb over the metal.
But Mena did not hesitate. “Of course we will help you,” she said.
Twiggy and Kormick made short work of discovering the trail left by the derro party who had attacked Corani's family. The group set off as fast as Corani could walk.
As they hiked, and lost the trail, and found it again, the freepeople conversed.
Mena told Twiggy, "I know you were uncomfortable with killing the prisoner, but it was necessary to allow Corani to focus."
"I understand,” said Twiggy. “But you know me: I need to know the reasons for things.” She paused. "And I know we have to help these people, not least because Corani’s husband might know the way to the Spring. But . . . that means we might have to kill more derro, doesn’t it.”
"Innocent lives are at stake," said Mena.
"Of course. But attacking things in their own home, even to help others – is that right?"
"Yes," said Kormick flatly.
Twiggy hesitated. Then she asked, "Exactly what are the qualifications for becoming a Justicar in Dar Und?"
"Wanting to be," answered Kormick. Arden stifled a laugh. Then he grew more expansive. "Actually, I stalked them," he said. "I sat outside the Temple for weeks. I made sure they knew that I wouldn't leave until they let me in. After they accepted me, I began learning all those skills that one needs to know as a servant of Kettenek: justice . . . smiting . . . bribery . . . planting evidence . . . "
"So," said Twiggy, "when you say that it's all right for us to attack the derro in their own home, is that your official legal opinion, or your Undian – "
"Corani has accepted our assistance," said Mena. "We are therefore obliged to help her combat this great evil. If we must combat it with a lesser evil, so be it."
"I guess that makes sense," Twiggy conceded, but she had one more question. "Should we be letting Corani take this into her own hands? Especially when she's pregnant?"
Mena opened her mouth to respond, but Kormick beat her to it. "If someone killed a member of my family," said the Justicar, "I would need to do what she's doing."
Twiggy commented, "That sounds like the voice of experience."
Kormick spoke quietly. "No matter what I had to do, no matter what insane job I had to take . . . I would not rest until I had found that person."
His voice carried finality with it. Silence followed.
Twilight fell, deepening to darkness.
The thought of the dwarves, especially the children, in the hands of derro captors was haunting them all. No one suggested stopping to rest. Twiggy saw easily at night and, with Kormick's help, she continued to track the derro.
As she followed the others in silence, Arden's arm throbbed dully where the scout had shot it that morning, and her energy, already low, waned further. She fell into a tired trance, the hours slipping past marked only by the rhythm of her feet. As midnight neared, a slaves' work-song began repeating itself endlessly in time with her steps . . .
One day when I was young and free,
Four spirits came to visit me:
A flame burned down my garden gate,
A voice of stone declared my fate,
The flowers hung their heads and cried,
The wind blew whispers, and I sighed--
The trail dead-ended at a rock wall split by a crevice plunging into blackness. Arden froze, staring.
"Ah," whispered Kormick. "This calls for someone small, sneaky, and expendable."
Everyone looked at her, but memory had swelled up in Arden's chest until she felt she would choke. She could barely whisper, "I beg you, please, don't make me."
She knew what was coming next. One of them would strike her and she would fall. They would kick her and repeat the order, pointing at the narrow tunnel. She would plead with them. They would kick her again and again until something cracked in her chest and in sheer terror of that grating brokenness she would creep, cringing, into the darkness.
Instead, the Justicar gave her a mildly curious look, and then Twiggy volunteered to send her mouse to investigate.
As the mouse held a silent conversation with his mistress and then scurried down the tunnel, Arden fought to pull herself back to the present. I'm in the Ketkath Mountains. This is a different place, a different time.
The mouse returned, and Twiggy relayed his news: the passageway led down into the mountain before reaching a chamber where four armed derro were standing guard over three doors in the eerie light of a glowing fungus.
"Well, this will be no problem," said Kormick, with false cheer.
"Yeah," said Tavi, with real cheer. "We go in and display our wrath, they cower in fear, and it's all over."
"I'm not sure I have wrath," said Savina solemnly. "But I've been told that Alirria does."
"Trust me, look deep enough inside yourself, and you'll find your hate," said Kormick. His jovial tone faded as he spoke; his voice grew grim.
"We should discuss tactics," Mena proposed, equally grim.
As the conference continued, Arden began to accept, first, that their trail led into that hole. Second, that the others were going to go in. Third, that they might not force her to join them: they might give her a choice.
And fourth, that she already knew what the right choice was.
She laid her hand on the mule's halter and muttered something to the Blessed Daughter about tethering him nearby. She led the mule into the trees and tied him to a sturdy spruce, barely remembering to poke at the tree first to make sure it didn't poke back.
Then she knelt down and prayed, long and hard. By the time she opened her eyes, she had been gone many minutes, and no one had come to find her. They're distracted – I could run, she thought. She smiled, nearly laughing, her amusement sincere, though as dark as the night. Gods, I could run.
She stood, patted the mule, and walked back to the group. In the back of her mind, the song resumed keeping time with her footsteps.
I still pray to the holy four,
But I am young and free no more.
Oh friend, if spirits visit, hide,
For since that day, my hope has died.
The group had all drawn their weapons; they were just waiting for her. "Are you all right?" whispered Savina. The compassion in the girl's voice was startling and painful, a whipstrike. "I will be," Arden muttered, looking away.
The Justicar caught her eye and jerked his head, indicating that she should join him.
Arden nodded agreement. Her heart racing, she forced herself to take her place by Kormick at the front.
Thanks, WisdomLikeSilence! I had way too much fun writing the song -- with help from ellinor as well as commentary from Fajitas on its theological underpinnings. Thanks to said commentary, my grasp of orthodox Halmae religion is now much stronger, which I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief about.
Kormick crept down the tunnel, glad that his eyes were already adjusted to the darkness from the night outside. He kept one hand on the wall for guidance. The other held his crossbow. Beside him, Arden moved like a shadow, but a shadow that was breathing a little too hard, a little too fast. She was frightened. He wasn't exactly feeling relaxed, himself, but he was looking forward to unburdening his jitters against multiple derro kneecaps very, very soon.
Faint scuffles and footsteps came from behind him, farther up the tunnel, as the rest of the group felt their way through the darkness. By the time they're close enough for the derro to hear, he hoped, the derro will be screaming too loud to notice.
The tunnel acquired a faint green cast, and shapes began to stand out more clearly.
He heard Arden take a final deep breath, and then silence. He wasn't sure if she'd seized control of herself and begun breathing soundlessly or if she'd stopped breathing altogether.
Pausing in the tunnel's last pool of darkness, Kormick could see the scene just as the mouse had described. Freaky moss. Check. Four derro. Check. Four foolish, foolish derro who have not drawn their weapons and who will soon be filled with profound regret on that particular score. Checkmate.
He raised his crossbow and saw Arden ready her sling. Her hands were shaking.
Kormick's weren't. His crossbow bolt buried itself in one derro's shoulder and the creature yelled in surprise and pain. The others stared around in confusion, not noticing as the rock from Arden's sling flew wide and bounced off the wall.
Red flame erupted in the center of the room, blazing out in a blinding rush before cohering into a flaming sphere. Twiggy had joined them in spectacular fashion. Kormick and Arden moved aside, staring in awe, as Twiggy took a single step into the room, concentrating fiercely on her creation. The derro – one injured, the others flabbergasted, and all squinting madly in the sudden light – dodged away as the sphere moved into position to block their retreat through the door opposite the entrance. Their movement drove them right into the arms of Mena and Tavi, who charged into the room next. Green flames licked up and down Tavi's blade as he and his tutor struck their targets.
Kormick traded his crossbow for his warhammers, ran toward the fight, swung at an unoccupied derro – and missed. Note to self, he thought. Derro kneecaps are somewhat lower than I'm used to. But before the derro could react, Arden appeared out of nowhere and sank her dagger into its side. The derro howled in outrage. Arden wrenched the dagger out, the light from Twiggy's sphere flickering in her eyes, and Kormick felt fleetingly smug: Good. Whatever scared her so much at the entrance, I knew she was still a murderous little sneak.
Then the derro finally drew their swords, and there was no more time for smugness.
The two facing Tavi and Mena formed up back-to-back and began trading vicious blows with their opponents while a third – the one Kormick had initially shot – ran toward the green moss along the walls. Kormick, suspicious, followed it, dodging past the swordfight in the center of the room just as Tavi took a tremendous blow to his arm from a blade that was black with poison. Kormick felt drops of the boy's blood spatter his cheek, but Tavi’s sword flashed as he retaliated instantly, not missing a beat.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kormick glimpsed the pregnant Corani waddle into the room with what seemed – in the midst of the whirling action – to be excruciating slowness, her battleaxes ready. Savina followed, trying in vain to stop her. For a split second, Kormick could only stare in horror at the sight – Back in that parlor, did I not predict horrible, horrible deaths? And by horrible did I not mean something exactly like a pregnant lady dwarf and a girl of impossible sweetness getting hacked to pieces by derro? – and yet he couldn't help admiring their nerve. There was no sign of Rose, sensibly waiting farther up the tunnel.
Ahead of Kormick, the derro reached the moss and gave it a good, hard stomp. A bolt of lightning burst out of the moss next to the stomper, shooting across the room. It barely missed Tavi and Mena.
Kormick strode up to the stomper, whirled the warhammer in his left hand in a flashy circle and then, with the derro distracted, swung low and fierce with the warhammer in his right. The resulting crack was music to his ears – ah, the national anthem of Dar Und. The former stomper was now favoring his knee.
The moss along the wall erupted again from several paces farther away, the beam of electricity stabbing all the way to the opposite wall. It struck Arden a glancing blow as she dodged just slightly too late. Her body convulsed at the jolt and she staggered. Kormick guessed that the bolts were going to continue marching across the room – and possibly back again – gradually putting everyone at risk.
The derro Arden had stabbed saw its chance and closed in on her, its poisoned sword ready. Arden, fighting off the shock she'd taken, raised her dagger and watched it come. Kormick didn't give the derro great odds against the slave, but this wasn't going to be pretty.
Then, suddenly, a ray of holy light blazed down from overhead, encompassing the derro. It keeled over, dead. Savina stood behind it, her hands still outstretched in prayer.
"And that," Kormick shouted to the girl, "would be Alirria's wrath!"
Savina's eyes were very, very wide.
Another shot of electricity from the moss lanced across the room, this time near the door where they'd entered, missing Savina by inches. Savina didn't even notice. She seemed to be in shock.
In the room's center, green flame still rippled along Tavi’s sword as he and Mena battled the three remaining derro. But as Kormick had feared, the moss’s electrical arcs had covered the room and were now on their way back. Tavi and Mena would soon be in trouble.
The flaming sphere slid into motion as Twiggy, a look of intense focus on her face, manuvered it delicately toward two derro. It engulfed them. One of them fell, charred and dead. The other didn't escape for long, because it staggered toward Corani. Her axe felled it with a single stroke.
The last remaining derro, still reeling from Kormick’s hammer blow, turned and limped as fast as it could toward the door opposite the entrance. Mena, with a swing of her flail so well-practiced that it looked casual, killed it.
In the sudden silence, the warning sound of the moss crackling carried across the room.
"Watch out," shouted Kormick. The lightening shot forth. Tavi and Mena jumped apart as it passed between them.
"Stay out of its range," Kormick ordered, and everyone retreated to the corners. The moss offered up one final strike, in the spot where it had first erupted, and then ceased its activity. Kormick, his eyes watering at the stench of burnt derro flesh, surveyed the room.
Twiggy's concentration was still bent on the flaming sphere. Her brow was furrowed and her cheeks were flushed. She seemed barely aware of anything else.
"They're dead now," Kormick told her. "One of them is in fact crispy, thanks to you. You can put away the flaming death-ball."
"No. There . . . might be more . . . " said Twiggy, with immense effort.
"Wise," agreed Mena, as she strode from derro to derro, making sure they were dead. Tavi still had his sword raised; both he and the hummingbird looked like they were disappointed that the fight was over.
Corani was leaning on her ax.
Arden was watching Savina.
And Savina's eyes were still very, very wide. "T – Tavi?" she asked. "Do you need me to heal you?"
"Feelin' fine," said Tavi, and he clearly meant it, despite the human and derro blood streaking his armor.
"Do you – " Savina tried again. She stopped, and swallowed. "Tavi, what was it like the first time you killed some – somebody? A person?"
"I haven't – yet," said Tavi. Savina wilted. Behind her, the slave opened her mouth as if to say something to her mistress, then clenched her jaw shut and looked away, rubbing her arm where the original derro scout had shot it that morning.
I know what to say to a member of my crew who's just made his first hit, thought Kormick. But I'm not sure what to say to the sweetest Alirrian in all the Halmae when she's just killed her first "somebody."
In the end, Mena walked over to Savina. "I would tell you it gets easier," she said, "but it doesn't. Nor should it. The only thing to do is know that by taking a life, you are saving others."
Savina hesitated, then nodded. Mena rested her hand on the girl's shoulder for a moment. Then she turned to the group.
"There are three closed doors," Mena said. "We must determine which way to go."
So, I'm curious... is Corani a normal NPC? I'm asking because she kinda has that PC sheen, although starting pregnant would certainly be unusual, and I know that at least Spyscribe joined late.
So, I'm curious... is Corani a normal NPC? I'm asking because she kinda has that PC sheen, although starting pregnant would certainly be unusual, and I know that at least Spyscribe joined late.
Nope--Corani's sheen is Plot Hook sheen, not PC sheen. We're still a couple of sessions away from Spyscribe's entrance.
By the way, for anyone curious, what you're about to see is "Rescue at Rivenroar", the first adventure in the Scales of War Adventure Path, done Halmae style...
Thanks very much, HalfOrc HalfBiscuit! We're enjoying ourselves immensely. Credit where credit is due: the story hour is co-written, 50-50, by me and ellinor both, so I will share your kudos with her (but grudgingly, reserving a few extra secretly for me, good rogue that I am).
Quote:
Originally Posted by Fajitas
By the way, for anyone curious, what you're about to see is "Rescue at Rivenroar", the first adventure in the Scales of War Adventure Path, done Halmae style...
Since I'm new to all this, I naturally had no choice but to google what Fajitas meant by this "Rescue at Rivenroar" business. To my untrained eye, skimming the flavor text of the adventure, the best I can do is glimpse a few similarities here and there. Fajitas definitely made this his own in some creative ways.
And then there's this: "Rescuing the prisoners amounts to a major quest, but it’s likely the PCs rescue some captives, return them to civilization, then come back for the rest" (page 6).
"Okay," said Kormick, turning to Arden. "Time for some breaking and entering."
"Justicar, I wouldn't know how – "
"Slave, slave, slave. I see with the gaze of Kettenek. Do you see any point in denying to my face that you're skilled at murderous sneakiness?"
Arden opened her mouth as if to do just that, and then apparently thought better of it. She met his gaze for a moment, then turned and stalked toward the door to the left of the entrance.
Kormick followed her, satisfied. He still half expected her to stab him in his sleep, but otherwise, they seemed to understand each other.
Arden laid her fingers on the door's handle and, vindicating Kormick's words, bore down with the light touch of someone with a lot of practice opening doors silently. This one was easy: it wasn't locked, and it swung open smoothly.
Arden and Kormick slipped through into a short corridor that turned sharply several feet ahead. With a glance at Kormick for permission, Arden tiptoed forward and glanced around the corner. Then she gestured for Kormick to join her. He did, and carefully, they crept down to the next corner and peered around it. Through a doorway, two derro were rummaging in what appeared to be a storeroom.
Kormick considered killing them. But there was another door at the far end of the storeroom, just the sort of door that reinforcements could come pouring through at any moment. He gestured to Arden to retreat.
They returned to the entry hall. Twiggy was trembling from continuing to maintain the flaming sphere, so they wasted no time approaching the second door, to the right of the entrance. Kormick stood by as Arden laid her fingers on the handle. Almost before he'd blinked, the door had been soundlessly cracked open and Arden had vanished through it.
Kormick slipped through the door. Arden was waiting for him on the other side.
"No wonder you were able to escape," he whispered.
She smiled with faint humor and held up her cuffed wrist. "I wasn't," she reminded him.
They could see a glimmer of torchlight and hear the clamor of many voices from around a bend up ahead.
This time, Kormick gestured Arden forward alone, and she obeyed. Soon, she vanished out of sight around the corridor. Kormick waited tensely, listening for any change in the sound of the voices.
###
Arden sneaked down the shadowy corridor toward the torchlight. There was a smell in the air that had been present since they'd entered and was growing more and more overpowering with every step: a ripe, musty smell. She supposed it was a relief from the smell of burned derro flesh in the entry hall, but she hated it. It was the smell of many unwashed bodies living together underground. It wasn't so long ago that she had smelled like that.
She edged toward a doorway that led into a larger chamber, stopping far enough back that she was still cloaked in shadows. The noise was loud now, because the chamber ahead was full of derro. They were sitting at rough tables and lounging on bunks, laughing and talking. Arden started to count them – one, two – seven – and gave up. There were a lot of them, jostling each other and miming violence. She saw no sign of the captured dwarves, just a very messy, very crowded barracks room. She turned and crept back down the corridor, collecting Kormick before sneaking back into the entrance hall and closing the door behind her.
"There are many derro that way, gentlefolk," she said, and recounted what she'd seen. The group stirred uneasily. Then it was time to open the third door, the one opposite the entrance. Like the others, it was unlocked. Unlike the others, it didn't lead to a corridor but to a tunnel, roughly cut, descending steeply into darkness. Arden stifled a shudder.
"If we go that way, we – we might not have to fight anyone," proposed Savina. Oh, thanks for that, Blessed Daughter, Arden thought, bracing herself for the order to explore the tunnel.
"But if we go that way, we could be cut off by enemies behind us," answered Tavi.
"I agree, unfortunately," said Mena. "We should deal with the derro in the barracks before going farther."
"All right." Tavi straightened up and raised his sword eagerly. "I'll go first."
Kormick glanced at Twiggy. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," he said, "but I suggest that the little lady-in-waiting with no prior combat experience should go first . . . with her flaming sphere of death, of course." Beads of sweat were standing out on Twiggy's forehead as she continued to maintain the sphere, but she managed a nod to show that she'd understood.
"Very well," said Mena. "There is no use delaying."
Arden walked back to the second door and laid her fingers on the handle, feeling the heat of Twiggy's magic at her back.
This time, by some inexplicable malice of Sedellus, the door gave an almighty squeak as she opened it, and it must have coincided with a lull in the merrymaking of the derro, because suddenly she heard only dead silence down the corridor, followed by orders barked out in a firm voice.
I hate this place, Arden thought.
"Damn," said Kormick. "Hurry."
Twiggy and Tavi pushed into the corridor, Tavi guiding Twiggy with a courtly hand on her arm as she hurried toward the torchlight.
The others followed, leaving Rose at the entrance to the corridor.
###
Tavi and Twiggy burst around the corner, and Twiggy immediately directed the flaming sphere straight into the crowd of derro. They screamed, and Tavi felt Twiggy wince beside him. Several of them dropped dead at once, burnt to a crisp.
"Nice. Keep it up," he told Twiggy, stepping past her as his remaining enemies pulled themselves into a ragged battle line. He strode toward them, his sword burning with green fire, and released a flame cyclone. Fire fanned out from his blade as if swept by a whirlwind and blazed among the derro. They burned. One burned to death. Now, Tavi thought, grinning with fierce satisfaction, there's my first kill, Savina.
Mena arrived at Tavi's side as Twiggy adjusted the sphere and set two more derro ablaze. Those two attempted to stab Tavi and Mena, but missed – distracted, understandably, by being on fire. Tavi and Mena dispatched them quickly.
Too easy, gloated Phoebe from a safe spot near the ceiling, just before another derro engaged Tavi. This creature had a little more skill with the blade, and they traded blows for a moment. Then a short sword burst out of his opponent's chest, stopping just shy of Tavi's own body and spraying a new layer of derro blood onto his armor. The derro sagged to the ground, dead, and revealed Arden behind him, grim-faced. That was it for this room; too easy indeed.
But Tavi's flash of annoyance at Arden for stealing his next kill was forgotten as the door ahead flew open and three more derro rushed in, crossbows raised.
Their bolts flew as one, and Mena cried out as one of them buried itself in her thigh. "It burns," she announced as she wrenched the bolt from her leg. "They're poisoned."
Mena raised her flail, and Tavi's heart skipped a beat as his tutor staggered, unnaturally weakened. "Savina!” he yelled, “Mena is—" and Savina interrupted him, praying for Mena’s health and then, almost in the same breath, blasting one of the archers with a lance of faith.
Arden ran past the flaming sphere and along the wall, aiming to slip in close to the archers, but they were too quick for her: one shot her at close range, the poisoned arrow burying itself between her ribs. Like Mena, Arden staggered, leaning against the wall near the room's open rear door, losing the battle against the poison. She was dangerously close to the bad guys – right where Tavi wanted to be, in fact.
Let's make this more interesting, he thought. About time! cheered Phoebe. He muttered an incantation and stabbed his sword into the bunk beside him. A vortex appeared where the sword had hit, and in a flash he and Arden were both pulled into it, switching places. He laughed at the slave's astonishment, turned, and drove his burning blade deep into the nearest archer, killing him.
Kormick dove in with his warhammers, swinging at both the remaining archers in quick succession. The two derro withdrew into the hallway, dropped their crossbows, and drew short swords as Tavi and Kormick's pressure forced them into close-quarters combat. One of them scored a vicious hit on the Justicar, driving his blade into Kormick's side. Kormick yelled in pain, nearly falling.
Then Tavi glimpsed a pit in the hallway, just a few steps behind the derro. "Come on," he called. "Drive them back!"
Corani responded to his exhortation with typical overzealousness, waddling too close to Twiggy's still-flaming sphere and burning herself. Arden, keeping her distance, whirled her sling and sent a rock flying straight through the sphere. Trailing sparks like a shooting star, it plowed into the face of one derro, who stumbled backward – farther backward – and plunged into the pit.
Kormick, with a mighty effort, rushed the final derro. "This" – he grunted – "is justice" – and, in a single strong motion despite his bleeding side, he kicked the derro in the chest, sending him flying over the pit's edge.
Kormick peered over the edge. Tavi joined him, but saw only darkness below. "I can't tell if they're dead," he said.
"I – can help – " gasped Twiggy. With a final exhausted effort, she gestured the flaming sphere forward until it plummeted between Tavi and Kormick down into the pit after the two derro.
As the sphere lit up a cavernous space, Tavi saw the second derro lying prone far below. It opened its eyes . . . just in time to be engulfed by flame. The light flared up, and then flickered out.
Twiggy steadied herself against the passage wall and let out her breath in a long, long sigh, almost a groan, almost a wail. She slid down the wall into a lump and held her head in her hands.
Everyone was still. The barracks were silent, filled with corpses.
The smell of burning flesh hung heavy in the air, inescapable.
)
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