Session #73 (part ii)
“Don’t you think that’s enough, D’nar?” Kazrack asked, suppressing a smile.
Gunthar, on the other hand, was bent over double, guffawing and holding his sides.
Ratchis stood, dragon-hilted great sword in both his hands, in a tense combat ready pose. A huge welt was being to swell up on the side of his face near his left eye, and a light trickle of blood poured down his forearm from a wrist cut. Sweat streamed down his face, zig-zagging over the bumps and craters of his orcish features.
Logan stood five or six feet away, long sword held loosely in his hand before him and swaying back and forth slowly as if keeping time, his off-hand moving and back and forth from the hilt to stretched out to the right for balance. His eyes were narrow slits, and his legs were slightly bent, as he bounced a bit, ready for the half-orc to try and strike again.
Ratchis lowered his sword.
“He can handle himself,” the half-orc said with a sigh.
“Aw! I wanted to see Snuffles bleeding on the ground!” Gunthar grinned. He turned to Logan. “You did good, kid!”
“Why was this really necessary?” Logan asked.
“Because we go to face demons and other foul and powerful creatures, and we could not in good conscience allow you along without knowing if you could handle yourself in a fight,” Kazrack said.
“Can demons be killed?” Logan asked.
Kazrack nodded.
“Then there’s no problem,” Logan said, smirking. “I know how to kill things.”
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Just after dawn the Keepers of the Gate had left Nikar by the western road, and had turned northward with the town less than a half-mile behind them. They marched along narrow paths that wound between farmsteads; many atop carved plateaus draped with bright green. At first they passed locals with wagon and wheelbarrows bringing things to market in Nikar, or the occasional stray farm dog begging for treats, but by the end of the second day they walked through a thick forest wedged into foothills of the nearby mountains.
They marched from dawn to dusk, taking short breaks to eat and stretch. Gunthar led Fearless the llama for an hour or two a day, but usually the task fell to Martin the Green who had a way with animals no one had noticed before.
“It’s a pack animal. I grew up on a farm,” Martin shrugged.
“Just remember,” Gunthar said to everyone. “Try not to use any fire magics, or bring any kind of fire or heat near Fearless.”
“Why?” Ratchis asked, suspiciously.
“Uh… he doesn’t like it,” Gunthar replied lamely.
Ratchis opened his mouth to say something, but Martin interrupted. “He’s right, Ratchis. For once, take his word for it.”
The half-orc turned his suspicious eye to the watch-mage, but said nothing more.
The third night, the full moon allowed Ratchis to disappear into the woods and return dragging an elk into the camp. They decided to rest half the next day to allow him to butcher it.
They spent their evenings continuing Ratchis’ reading lessons with Martin by candlelight, and occasionally the two of them would spend an entire watch whispering in orcish.
Martin also spent some time to practice using some spells, surprising Kazrack one morning by altering himself to look a lot like Tanweil had when in his true draconic form.
Logan was quiet much of the time, save for when he and Dorn practiced saying the dwarven word for light with Kazrack in order to operate the brass medallions that the dwarf had crafted for the party, etched with the dwarven
rune of light. (1)
On the fifth day of marching, the forest suddenly dwindled out into nothing. A nasty blue-green blight was on all the trees on the north side and soon the Keepers of the Gate found themselves in a barren expanse of tall jagged rock cracked in many places by tiny streams coming from the northeast.
They cut east following the main stream back up into the mountains, hoping to avoid having to do any actual climbing for as long as possible and taking advantage of the clean cold water to bathe and refill their skins.
Isilem, the 16th of Quark – 565 H.E.
The light of Ra’s Glory beat down on the Keepers of the Gate as they marched single file through a narrow stream with broad sloping sides that turned more directly northward. Mid-day seemed to stretch out for hours, as they sucked down quart after quart of water from their skins. The stream they followed had become a narrow trickle of gritty stuff, and even though they had rested not long before to eat some lunch, exhaustion weighed down their legs.
Much earlier in the day they had noticed a column of smoke that emerged from the haze a mile or two to the east. They did not investigate, eager to avoid meeting up with anyone. Now the ravine cut three ways; the stream heading east, as the land before them in all directions rose up into barren bluffs. The center way broadened even as the walls became steeper, and the way to the west was the narrowest.
With an arcane word, Martin the Green shifted into his reptilian humanoid form modeled for Tanweil, and soon was breathing heavily as he flapped the small leathery wings with all his might; jerking back and forth awkwardly in the air when he tried to turn.
With another word he was invisible and gained a great deal of height to make slow wide circles and gauge the lay of the land.
Martin could see the narrow path to the east turned widely and then seemed to suddenly end at the foot of a craggy black hill. Clouds were rolling in from the west, obscurity visibility in that direction, but the broad ravine directly ahead made him gasp.
There was a collection of large stone houses atop the eastern bluff, and what looked like the remains of a curving wall, now only several huge stones here and there.
Smoke rose from a hole in the roof of one of the stone homes.
On the western bluff was some huge dug out area that seemed like it was once lined with a wall as well; though there were no intact buildings on that side. The west side of the ravine itself had large, once elaborate steps, now worn by years of weather. Halfway up the stair stood a giant pair of stone legs, the top of the statue apparently long gone.
Martin took an awkward swoop eastward to get a closer look at that avenue, and found the trickle of stream emerged from a cave that led beneath the black craggy hill.
He turned and gained some more height again to enjoy the quiet of the wind, and then returned to the others. He descended and then finally landed. And then re-appeared.
Fearless spat and then coughed out a “maaa!”, kicking a leg back angrily.
The watch-mage reached out and scratched the llama’s head and it calmed again. He told the others what he had seen.
“I don’t like it,” Ratchis said. “Someone or something could live in those houses or be in that pit or whatever. If we continue north they could ambush us. But I don’t think we should risk the cave. The western route is too narrow to be safe. What does everyone else think?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ask that,” Martin said, stunned.
“Ask what?” Ratchis said, confused.
“Asking what we all think,” Martin replied, with a smirk.
Ratchis snarled.
“I’m against going underground,” Logan said. “We have no idea where it comes out. It could be a dead end, for all we know.”
“A good point, but I am always a proponent for going underground,” Kazrack said.
“Dorn?” Ratchis turned to his henchman.
The shaggy-haired man rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.
“I think Martin should make me invisible and I should go scout ahead myself, on foot,” Ratchis said.
“If you feel we must…” Kazrack said.
“Just hurry your pig-ass up,” Gunthar said, putting an oat-bag around the llama’s head. “Unless you think this is a safe enough place to camp.”
“The loudmouth has a point,” Logan said.
“Yeah, and I keep it in my pants,” Gunthar laughed.
“I’ll be quick,” Ratchis said, as Martin cast the spell.
“How long will it last?” Ratchis asked.
“Nearly an hour and a half,” the mage said. (2)
Ratchis took off for the bluff and climbed up quickly, driving his big calloused hands into the earth when he could not find a rocky handhold. He rolled over atop the mossy bluff and let out a long low breath and stood. He reminded himself that he was invisible as he spotted the stone houses about a quarter mile ahead. But the site of them was quickly washed way by the westward clouds that had finally rolled in with cool showers.
The half-orc made a dash for the buildings and then slowed up when they came into sight again, creeping along with all the speed he dared, hoping between the
invisibility spell and the rain, he would not be noticed.
The stone houses were made of rounded slabs of sedimentary rock that was grayed and worn by centuries of weather. Ratchis could tell that the stones had been brought here from somewhere else. They did not match the scrabble earth and shattered rock of the bluffs. It appeared there had once been many more of these stone homes, but now they were just piled slabs of stone, and even the ones in the best conditions had sunk partially into the ground.
One tall house was over twenty feet high, and it seemed like a great deal of it had sunken into the bluff, meaning it had once been even taller. There was cracked window casement on floor level that made for a jagged twelve-foot tall entrance. Damp smoke rose from the crack and from unseen hole in the roof.
Ratchis made his way over there, and put his back to the right side of the crack. From within he heard what sounded like some kind of humming punctuated with grunts. He leaned over, still cautious of being seen out of instinct, despite his invisibility, and looked in. The floor of the stone house was sunken another twenty feet, and a small smoldering fire in one corner spat gray smoke. There was a large figure wrapped up in a tattered piece of hide. Ratchis guessed its height at about nine feet.
Suddenly it sat up, and looked to its right. Ratchis could see that what had once been the foundation of the house was cracked open to connect to some kind of huge caves or tunnels beneath the houses. In stepped a crouched figure that had to be at least 11 feet tall. It had stooped shoulders and a slopping forehead, and arms that seemed too long for its body and absently scratching its side. It was a female giant of some kind, wrapped in a tattered hide. She bellowed at the smaller figure, that Ratchis could now see had yellow skin and a large craggy head; an ogre.
The ogre threw off its blanket and with fear in its large yellow eyes began to climb up towards the crack. Ratchis quickly retreated.
The ogre ran to another of the houses and soon returned with an arm full of wood and a sack over its shoulder. Ratchis watched from a safe distance, and when it was back in the house, he crept over to check the other places. Most were empty. Some smelled strongly of feces and rot. Others seemed a place to store wood and ratty furs. The soft ground gave sign to his trained eye that at least half dozen ogres and a few giants walked back and forth here with some regularity.
He headed back southward and climbed down, and made his way to the steps on the other side of the ravine to check the great pit up on that bluff, before returning to the rest of the party.
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“The pit on the other bluff looks like it used to be some kind of forge or foundry,” Ratchis explained. “There are bits of raw ore here and there, scorch marks, rusted and worn bits of old tools and even a weathered anvil that is over six feet tall and must weigh thousands of pounds, bolted to a rock.”
“Giants…” Kazrack muttered.
“So what now? We go kill these giants and ogres, find what they have of value and move on?” Gunthar asked.
“No,” Ratchis spat.
“They’re giants!” Gunthar replied. “Evil, waylaying, baby-eating, stupid as a rock, giants! We’d be doing the world a favor!”
“I hate to say this, but I agree,” Kazrack said. “These are the ancient enemy of my people. It would be good to slay them all.”
“I think you are forgetting that
I am the ancient enemy of your people, too,” Ratchis said. “If are to go by tradition. These giants haven’t done anything to us, and we cannot risk being delayed. If we miss when the opening to Hurgun’s Maze is revealed, who knows if there will be another opportunity?”
“And we cannot know for certain how many there are,” Martin the Green added. “Remember how tough the fight against that one stone giant was.” (3)
“Okay, so we try to slip past,” Logan said. “But they will probably attack if they see us, and throw rocks from atop the bluffs; this is, if anything I have heard about giants is true. I’ve never encountered any before.”
“Don’t worry, kid,” Gunthar replied. “We’ll get Martin to hold your hand as we march if yer scared.”
Logan stared down the Neergaardian.
“Your face’ll get stuck that way if you are not careful,” Gunthar warned. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that? And trust me your mom knows about making faces; if you know what I mean…”
“I warned you about that…” Logan began, reaching for the hilt of his sword.
“Enough! Now is not the time for this,” Ratchis admonished them both. He turned to Martin the Green. “Martin, can you make us all invisible?”
The watch-mage shook his head. “I am limited in the amount of components I have. Even if I took the time to re-prepare some spells (4), I do not think it is worth it to spend all the Thrician gum at once.” (5)
“I guess we are going to have to go kill the giants, then,” Kazrack concluded. “Get them before they get us.”
“No, it means we’ll wait here and rest while we can and then move out just before dawn under cover of darkness,” Ratchis pointed. “The sun will come up over there casting shadows in that ravine that we can use to our advantage.”
“Maa!” Fearless the Llama said.
”And you will cast
silence on the llama,” Ratchis added, turning to Kazrack.
The dwarf nodded.
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Osilem, the 17th of Quark – 565 H.E.
It was still raining when they crept out just before dawn. The llama protested, as Martin pulled it along, but no sound emerged from its twisted mouth, as Kazrack’s spell had been cast on its harness. Gunthar lagged behind, sword in hand, but half asleep, while Ratchis and Logan took point.
As Ra’s Glory rose to their left, they found that the opposite end of the ravine ascended gently, giving way to a verdant slope awash with many shades of green and yellow, and glistening in the last rain being broken up by the arriving sun. Beyond it stood a black mountain that they would have to contend with in a few days time.
“This valley is so green and verdant,” Logan said. “I wonder why the giants choose to live in broken down old stone houses atop barren bluffs?”
“Exactly,” Kazrack replied. “Think of what must live here to keep them out.”
“Yeah, I have a bad feeling,” Ratchis said. “Let’s hurry past this place.”
They had not gone far when they saw what it was. A winged reptilian form cast its shadow across the thick trees. The Keepers of the Gate all looked up to see a purple and black monstrosity nearly thirty feet long with a long sinewy tale flapping around behind it. The tail ended in a black bony point. In the thing’s jaws was a large humanoid form, now looking ragged and frail, as its two halves bobbed with every flap of the thing’s black wings.
“Isis have mercy!” Martin hissed. “A wyvern!”
Without discussion, Ratchis cast
silence on the llama, as Kazrack’s casting had long expired, and Martin cast
levitate on Kazrack, so the now weightless dwarf could now be pulled along like a balloon by Ratchis, as he and the rest hustled past the woods.
They marched on through the rest of the day, reaching a long plain that ended in the dark horizon of the mountain they had seen a couple of days before. On the brink of exhaustion, they continued on into the night to put as much room as possible between them and the wyvern.
Ratchis finally relented of his impossible pace only after Logan, Gunthar and Dorn began to lag behind so often, even Kazrack was ahead of them; the
levitation spell had long expired.
The half-orc made a camp in a thicket, doing his best to camouflage it, as the others just passed out where they had thrown their bodies to the ground.
Ralem, the 22nd of Quark – 565 H.E.
Several days later, the Keepers of the Gate had made their way past the first of the mountains, led by Ratchis through deep undercuts made in them by cold streams. In this way they were able to avoid the worst of the climbing, and where they did have to climb some, they found the llama was deft and leaping up onto to rocks and from one to another, as long as they were not too high or too far apart.
Beyond this, was a world ringed by mountains. It was a grassy highland many miles across and marked with many streams and ponds, and littered with huge stones left behind by retreating glaciers thousands of years before. The high plain was broken up by great jagged ridges that rose and fell as if the hard earth had once been sand, and some colossus had dragged its feet walking back and forth.
As usual, Ratchis took point, leaving Logan to lead the rest of the group and he jogged ahead to each rise, squatting down and looking over to make sure nothing awaited them beyond. He would jog back and forth all day, seemingly tireless, reporting what he saw, and for two days it had always been ‘all clear’.
One hazy mid-morning, Ratchis made his way to the top of a ridge, expecting to see the rest of the plain beyond, but instead it was a ragged ravine that ran east from the mountains to a river the party had noticed at the western border of the plain. Movement on the opposite ridge caught his eye, and he lowered himself down even more. It was twelve, or perhaps sixteen, humanoid figures, picking their way up the opposite ridge and over it.
It was hard to tell what they were exactly, but something about their ragged line, and the spears or poles that some had over one shoulder, made him think they were high orcs. He waited until the last one went disappeared over the top, counted slowly to fifty, and then went after them to see where they were going.
As Ratchis climbed the next ridge, going very slowly because he was aware that he was kicking up small clouds of red and yellow clay dust, he heard a sound coming from the other side that for a second he thought was the ocean; but the ocean was several hundred miles away.
He poked his head over and gasped. In highland plain below that stretched out for miles amid the wide loops of a narrow river was an enormous camp. The roar of voices came up from amid the many tents, hasty lean-tos and various red and green banners. It was definitely orcs; scores and scores of them.
Ratchis hurried back to the others.
“Orcs,” Ratchis told them. “Scores, maybe two hundred, maybe more.”
“So we’re gonna go kill them?” Gunthar asked.
“Why don’t you go ahead and the rest of us will catch up? Logan shot at the Neergaardian.
“Aw, is itty bitty Logan scared of some orcs?” Gunthar teased.
“From the look of the camp they have their women and young with them, which means there are even more orcs around in hunting and scouting parties,” Ratchis continued, ignoring them. “We need to avoid them. We’ll go west and hope we can find a way to get across the river and travel around close to those western mountains, and avoid them all.”
“You hear that, Logan? They have their babies with them. I’m sure we can find some babies for you to kill,” Gunthar said. “We know all about killing orc babies. Right, Snuffles?” (6)
“Shut up!” Kazrack barked.
“Let’s go, and keep it down,” Ratchis said, and headed west.
End of Session #73
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Notes:
(1)
DM’s Note: For the stats for the Rune of Light spell, see the Aquerra Wiki, at:
http://aquerra.wikispaces.org/Spell+-+Rune+of+Light
(2)
DM’s Note: In Aquerra, the
invisibility spell lasts 10 minutes per level.
(3) See Sessions #51/#52
(4) Wizards can trade out spells already prepared for others by spending 15 minutes per spell level per spell.
(5) The material component for the
invisibility spell is an eyelash pressed into a bit of Thrician gum.
(6) See Session #65
