The War of the Burning Sky
Introduction
Castle Korstull, Exarchate of Sindaire
November 17th
Once again, the world has ended.
Coaltongue is dead. The wily and charismatic half orc, who carved an empire out of the heart of the continent of Sarlonna, has met his doom on a foreign field, and his body has not been recovered. And when the tiger dies, the jackals start to fight over his remains …
The Scouring of Gate Pass
Prologue
Council Chamber, Free City of Gate Pass
December 31st, 5 pm
It’s New Year’s Eve, but the councillors are in no mood for celebration. The Ragesian 2nd army, under General Danava, is camped outside the city’s western gate. Gate Pass is the only territory ever to regain its independence after being absorbed into the Ragesian Empire, and its current councillors are acutely aware this legacy hangs by a thread.
Governor Merrick Hurt has the floor.
“Councillors, I have made no secret of my admiration for the late Emperor Coaltongue, and my belief that good relations with the Empire are in the city’s best interests. Also, I’m sure you know how I feel about our other neighbours, those treacherous Elven scum to the east.”
A few chuckles from the audience help to relieve some of the tension.
“Having said that, I don’t want to give in to that scheming bitch Leska, and let her cursed inquisitors loose in our own city, dragging off any of our citizens that take their fancy, never to be seen again.
“But what choice to we have? Danava’s army would be a tough enough challenge on its own, and with Leska’s inquisitors on hand to counter Gabal’s mages, we’ve no chance.
“So, I’m open to suggestions.”
Master wizard Gabal was the first to respond. “Let the inquisitors in.”
The evoker grinned at his colleagues’ reaction. “Surprised, are you? Don’t worry, I have no desire to end up as another victim of Leska’s Scourge of magic users. What I do have is a plan. Its risky. But we’re in a sticky situation here and I don’t see any other options. Let me explain …..”
After the meeting broke up, councillor Erdan Menesh headed back outside. Waiting for him was a tall, tanned woman with short white hair.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked.
“As well as could be expected. We are going with Gabal’s plan. I just wish I shared Gabal’s confidence in his own abilities.”
“So do we still relocate the Resistance to Seaquen? I’ve arranged the meeting with the potential recruits at the Apple at midnight, and we’ll rendezvous with Badgerface at the depository some time after that.”
“Yep, we proceed as planned – but with one minor alteration. Hurt wants to defy Ragesia for a bit, claims it’ll look more plausible. I reckon he’s worried Leska will think he’s a wimp if the city capitulates too soon. Anyway, things could get a bit hairy later if Danava decides to make a point. For the time being, the best position for you and your healing magic is by the West Gate, to deal with any casualties.
“Let Caryk handle the meeting. He’s anxious to prove himself to the Resistance, and it’s a straightforward enough task.”
Act 1 – The Secret Meeting
The Poison Apple Pub, Free City of Gate Pass
December 31st, 11.45 pm
Normally, the city’s street are thronged with revellers on New Year’s Eve. This year, with the Ragesian 2nd army on the city’s doorstep “securing the Empire’s borders in these uncertain times”, and rumours that bounty hunters, inquisitors, elven spies and worse were roaming the city’s streets, most people have chosen to spend the night indoors.
Thus the three strangers walking purposefully through the city’s westernmost district were painfully aware of one another. As is usual in such circumstances, they were a disparate bunch.
The first was dressed as a scholar, and had a thoughtful, almost abstracted expression on his face. He was obviously taking the rumours seriously, because in addition to his staff he had a crossbow slung across his back. There was also something odd about his appearance, but none of the rare passers-by could quite identify what it was. Some of them speculated that it was the newness of all his possessions. All he owned seemed to have been purchased recently, and by some strange trick of the flickering street lights even his body somehow seemed recently acquired.
Close on his heels clanked a woman dressed in an ancient chain shirt. She too had a crossbow, but it was clearly just for show- the amount of rust on its firing mechanism made it dangerous to its wielder as well as its target.
Bringing up the rear was a non-descript man wearing studded leather armour. Of the three, he alone seemed at home roaming the city streets after dark, and he was the only one to spot two men and a mangy dog loitering down a nearby alley next to a small hand cart loaded with junk. However, concerned with reaching his destination, he paid them no mind.
Once the unlikely trio had passed down the street, one of the loiterers turned to his companion.
“Are you sure those were magic users? Don’t look like any magic users I’ve ever seen.”
His companion shrugged. “Who cares? Kathor reckons they’re worth a hundred each, plus another hundred for that priest woman Torrent, and that’s good enough for me. Let’s go; it’s your turn to pull the cart.”
Nobody noticed the disgruntled eagle, trailing down the street after the three mages and wishing it was safely tucked up in its nest for the night.
********
Three strangers arrived outside the Poison Apple Pub, and finally ruefully acknowledged that they were all headed for the same destination.
The front door was boarded up. The notice on the door read :-
“Trehan Finner, owner of the Poison Apple
Pub, has been taken into temporary custody
under the protection of the city guard, until such
time that he can be questioned by representatives
of the Ragesian Empire, and found innocent of
hostile collusion. The Poison Apple Pub is hereby
closed until further notice.”
The scholar shrugged, headed around the building to the side door, and knocked gently. There was the brief sound of someone moving around inside, the clink of a heavy key turning in the lock, and then the door opened. The three were greeted with the bizarre sight of a creature which seemed to combine the ugliest features of humans and turtles. It was naked apart from bandoliers bristling with axes, daggers and javelins.
“Um, eh, hi. Do come in,” mumbled the creature, eyes downcast.
The party trooped into the tavern’s tap room, which currently consisted of an empty bar and one table on which stood a barrel of beer and three tankards.
As the creature moved to relock the door, the scholar had the brief sensation of wings flapping past his ears. Seeing nothing, he moved to examine the beer barrel.
“I am, um, Caryk,” said the creature. “Please drink some beer as a celebration of the new year.”
“Drinking? Of course! Now I understand,” replied the scholar, making no attempt to pour himself some beer. “I am Jonathan Farrier. I am a scholar.”
Caryk and Jonathan turned to look at the woman in the chain shirt, which seemed to disconcert her. She looked around the room, as if seeking inspiration, and then said unconvincingly, “My name is … Deirdre.”
The other visitor, the male in studded leather, said confidently, “My name is Gribron”.
“What?” replied the rest, pretty much in unison.
“Gr-ib-ron.”
Everybody studied the beer barrel, and ‘Deirdre’ went so far as to pour herself a drink.
Maybe I should change my alias, thought ‘Gribron’. Everybody always has trouble pronouncing it.
“And my name is Solsus”, said a disembodied voice from the corner. Slowly a figure appeared, resembling a very short Elf with gossamer wings. “Sorry for intruding, but I had a feeling this would be an interesting meeting. Could someone please open the door and let in my eagle.”
Caryk sighed, trudged back to the door and laboriously unlocked it. A vicious looking raptor, with a three foot wingspan, burst into the room and (with some difficulty) perched next to Solsus. It seemed to be in a very bad mood. Caryk shrugged, closed the door and locked it.
Once Caryk had returned to the middle of the room he looked through his various scabbards and bandoliers for his prepared speech. This took several minutes, but eventually he was forced to accept he’d forgotten to bring it with him. He’d have to ad lib.
“Um, would anyone like a drink?”
“Yes please,” replied Gribron, who proceeded to help himself to a beer.
“No thank you!” said Solsus. “I don’t touch alcohol. It has all sorts of unforeseen consequences. Far too frivolous. I strongly urge you all to abstain.”
Caryk tried to remember everything Torrent had told him to say, and began to speak.
“Um, thank you three for coming; I mean thank you four, or five if you count the eagle. We need to head for the repository, and take a case from Rivereye Badgerwhotsit to Seaquen. All hail the Resistance!”
The response was mixed.
“Do you mean the depository?” asked Gribron..
“How are you planning to get out of the city, given that the Council has sealed the gates?” enquired Jonathan. “And how are you going to avoid all the Ragesian patrols between here and there?”
Caryk seemed to warm to his task. “The Badger has obtained vital information from Ragos, the very capital of the Empire. The Resistance is an extremely powerful body, and normally such key documents would be teleported to their destination. Normally getting out of the city would be easy.”
“I couldn’t help noticing you mentioned the word “normally” a few times,” commented Jonathan.
“Ah,” replied Caryk. “Unfortunately we can’t teleport at the moment because ever since the Emperor died people who teleport long distances have arrived at their destination burnt to a crisp. Instead the plan is to head for Seaquen via the Fire Forest. The Ragesians won’t patrol the Fire Forest because ever since it started burning forty years ago everyone who has entered has been burnt to a crisp.”
The response from his audience was less than positive.
“Did I mention Torrent has given me a load of fire resistance potions? I’m sure I must have. Anyway …”
It is now midnight. All the bells in the city ring out in celebration of the new year. Whatever else Caryk says is drowned out by the noise.
Abruptly the bells cease, and Gribron hears the floorboards creak upstairs, as if someone was walking on them. He points this out to the rest. Caryk is puzzled. He confirmed earlier that the pub was empty, so how can someone be moving around upstairs?
And now everyone can hear dull muted thumps coming from outside, as if ripe fruit was falling onto the rooftops.
Caryk snatches up his backpack, and heads for the side door, key in hand. Solsus pulls out his sling, and slowly fades from sight.
From outside comes the cry, “Front door, go!” and something heavy smashes into the main door. It rattles on its hinges, but still holds. The need for stealth over, a group of men, armed with morning stars, stomp down the stairs.
No one is expecting what happens next.
There is a dull thud, as something strikes the roof, followed almost immediately by a deafening boom. The whole inn shakes. Screams of agony come from the men on the stairs – only the bottom two escape the carnage. Then the ceiling boards start to crack and buckle, whole sections then give way and a fiery rain leaks down into the room. Fortunately, none of the group are standing in the affected areas.
Caryk unlocks the side door, and heads out into the alley. He immediately realises that to his left the narrow passage has now been deliberately blocked by a new pile of rubble, and to his right stand a pair of humans, equipped with saps and shields. Alongside them is a mangy dog, which snaps and snarls.
“Drop your weapons and come quietly,” says the larger of the two men. “We don’t want to break your valuable little heads.”
Unable to think of a pithy response, Caryk steps forward and swings a punch at the speaker. The man easily blocks the blow on his shield, and sneers contemptuously. “You’ll have to do better than that, you ugly beggar.”
Jonathan is hard on Caryk’s heels. Spotting the men, he pulls back the hood of his scholar’s robe and fixes them with an icy stare. “Tremble before me, mortals!” he booms. The two thugs seem visibly shaken by his actions.
Inside the building, the invisible Solsus looses a sling bullet at one of the two survivors of the ill fated indoor ambush party. However, all the confusion affects his aim, and the shot is well wide. He too then heads out the door and, not liking conditions on the ground, flies straight up in the air.
His eagle however, has one thought on its mind. It flies out of the building and heads off down the alleyway. It lacks Solsus’s grace in the air, so wouldn’t be able to replicate his flight path even if it was able to see him.
Gribron and Deirdre, now alone in the pub with two thugs, react in different ways. Gribron starts chanting a spell. Deirdre simply points at the nearest opponent, and a blast of eldritch energy shoots from her hand. Its hard to target in all the smoke and rubble, and her victim is able to dodge her attack.
Out in the alleyway, the two thugs swing at Caryk with their saps. He’s a nimble opponent, and they are suffering the effects of what Jonathan did to them. When their blows land, he’s no longer in the way.
“Go on Sauce, get the bleeder!” orders one of the thugs. Reluctantly the dog complies, but its bite cannot penetrate Caryk’s tough skin.
“They are in the alley. Drop the ram and use your crossbows,” says a crisp voice. The street’s flickering torch light makes identifying enemies difficult, but Caryk’s eyesight is better than a human’s in such low light conditions. He spots a man on horseback, some distance from the pub, who seems to be co-ordinating the thugs’ efforts.
There’s the sound of a heavy object – presumably the battering ram – hitting the ground, and two more thugs come into view. They move opposite the alley entrance, and take careful aim with their crossbows.
After missing with his first punch, Caryk tries a different approach. He snatches out his hatchet from its holster, and brings it down in a vicious overhead blow. The thug’s sneer slowly fades as he realises the axe is buried in his head. He drops to the ground.
Jonathan fixes his gaze on the second thug, but nothing happens.
Solsus heads towards the crossbowmen, and looses off another sling bullet. He misses again. As he does so, he lets off a piercing whistle. His loyal eagle, having recovered from its initial panic, swoops around and heads for the source of the noise.
Inside the pub, the two intruders pick their way cautiously through the burning rubble, and manage to reach Gribron just as his spell takes effect. Despite the gravity of the situation, they both decide to take a nap.
Since the situation inside now seems to be under control, Deirdre heads out into the alleyway. It seems very crowded here, so she walks up the wall of the neighbouring building and surveys the scene from its roof. Calmly, she lets off a blast of energy at the remaining thug fighting Caryk. It strikes him a glancing blow, but he stays on his feet.
Gritting his teeth, the thug drops his sap and pulls out his shortsword. Bounty or no bounty, all thoughts of subduing their quarry seem to have fled. Unfortunately for him, he still can’t manage to hit the elusive Caryk, and neither can Sauce.
The other two thugs fire their crossbows at Caryk. It’s a very tricky shot, with their comrade in the way, but more by luck than judgement one bolt strikes home. Caryk chokes back a cry of pain, and does his best to ignore the wound, but he looks in very bad shape. He slashes his opponent with his axe, but doesn’t come close to hitting.
The eagle swoops down on one of the crossbowmen, but misses. Gribron, alone in the pub, takes the opportunity to snatch the belt pouches from the sleeping intruders. He has a deft touch, and neither one stirs.
The dog, seeing the eagle so close to the ground, runs over and tries to grasp it in his mouth. The alert eagle is too quick for him, and all Sauce gains is a couple of tail feathers.
Gribron steps into the alley and starts to cast a repeat of his sleep spell on the crossbowmen. They too are unable to resist his sorcery, and decide to have a snooze.
Solsus, anxious to protect the eagle, hits the dog with a sling stone. The eagle, however, needs no such assistance. In a whirlwind of beak and claws it kills the hapless mongrel.
The mounted man orders his last remaining thug to surrender. Then he canters off down the street.
The thug, finding himself alone, throws down his sword. Caryk leads him away from the pub, so he can question him. He learns that the thug belongs to an organisation known as the Black Horse, but the thug does not know how they found out about the meeting. Only the mounted man, Kathor, knows that. The thug is then sent on his way, and the party set off for the meeting in the depository.
Solsus, seeing Caryk’s injured condition, is able to provide him with a little magical healing, which eases some of the pain.
They have only gone a short distance when Caryk remembers that two intruders are still asleep in the burning building.
“We’ll have to go back!”
“You can if you want,” replies Solsus. “No doubt you can catch us up.”
Heading back on his own, Caryk tries to drag one of the intruders out of the building. The man wakes up in the process, and helps Caryk with the second man. Once safely outside, they start to rouse the crossbowmen. The four look appraisingly at Caryk for a second, but there’s no bounty for him so they decide to head off down the street.
Caryk soon catches up with the others, whose progress has been slowed by panicking crowds who are fleeing burning buildings. There are dark shapes flitting overhead, dropping bombs on the city.
The party encounters a family huddled outside what’s left of their house. They are badly burned. Jonathan turns out to have some skill at mundane healing, and is able to ease their condition somewhat. As they leave, Caryk gives them some of the money Gribron looted from the intruders in the inn.
There is another short delay when the party encounters a crowd gathered around a four storey building. The house is on fire, and there is a woman trapped at an upper window. Deirdre walks up the side of the house with a rope, followed by a flying Solsus. The two of them tie the rope to a piece of furniture, and do their best to take the strain themselves, and the woman climbs down without mishap.
They are heading for the gate into the next district when a massive shadow passes overhead. A wave of fear passes over everybody, and the party are lucky to avoid being crushed in the ensuing panic.
Introduction
Castle Korstull, Exarchate of Sindaire
November 17th
Once again, the world has ended.
Coaltongue is dead. The wily and charismatic half orc, who carved an empire out of the heart of the continent of Sarlonna, has met his doom on a foreign field, and his body has not been recovered. And when the tiger dies, the jackals start to fight over his remains …
The Scouring of Gate Pass
Prologue
Council Chamber, Free City of Gate Pass
December 31st, 5 pm
It’s New Year’s Eve, but the councillors are in no mood for celebration. The Ragesian 2nd army, under General Danava, is camped outside the city’s western gate. Gate Pass is the only territory ever to regain its independence after being absorbed into the Ragesian Empire, and its current councillors are acutely aware this legacy hangs by a thread.
Governor Merrick Hurt has the floor.
“Councillors, I have made no secret of my admiration for the late Emperor Coaltongue, and my belief that good relations with the Empire are in the city’s best interests. Also, I’m sure you know how I feel about our other neighbours, those treacherous Elven scum to the east.”
A few chuckles from the audience help to relieve some of the tension.
“Having said that, I don’t want to give in to that scheming bitch Leska, and let her cursed inquisitors loose in our own city, dragging off any of our citizens that take their fancy, never to be seen again.
“But what choice to we have? Danava’s army would be a tough enough challenge on its own, and with Leska’s inquisitors on hand to counter Gabal’s mages, we’ve no chance.
“So, I’m open to suggestions.”
Master wizard Gabal was the first to respond. “Let the inquisitors in.”
The evoker grinned at his colleagues’ reaction. “Surprised, are you? Don’t worry, I have no desire to end up as another victim of Leska’s Scourge of magic users. What I do have is a plan. Its risky. But we’re in a sticky situation here and I don’t see any other options. Let me explain …..”
After the meeting broke up, councillor Erdan Menesh headed back outside. Waiting for him was a tall, tanned woman with short white hair.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked.
“As well as could be expected. We are going with Gabal’s plan. I just wish I shared Gabal’s confidence in his own abilities.”
“So do we still relocate the Resistance to Seaquen? I’ve arranged the meeting with the potential recruits at the Apple at midnight, and we’ll rendezvous with Badgerface at the depository some time after that.”
“Yep, we proceed as planned – but with one minor alteration. Hurt wants to defy Ragesia for a bit, claims it’ll look more plausible. I reckon he’s worried Leska will think he’s a wimp if the city capitulates too soon. Anyway, things could get a bit hairy later if Danava decides to make a point. For the time being, the best position for you and your healing magic is by the West Gate, to deal with any casualties.
“Let Caryk handle the meeting. He’s anxious to prove himself to the Resistance, and it’s a straightforward enough task.”
Act 1 – The Secret Meeting
The Poison Apple Pub, Free City of Gate Pass
December 31st, 11.45 pm
Normally, the city’s street are thronged with revellers on New Year’s Eve. This year, with the Ragesian 2nd army on the city’s doorstep “securing the Empire’s borders in these uncertain times”, and rumours that bounty hunters, inquisitors, elven spies and worse were roaming the city’s streets, most people have chosen to spend the night indoors.
Thus the three strangers walking purposefully through the city’s westernmost district were painfully aware of one another. As is usual in such circumstances, they were a disparate bunch.
The first was dressed as a scholar, and had a thoughtful, almost abstracted expression on his face. He was obviously taking the rumours seriously, because in addition to his staff he had a crossbow slung across his back. There was also something odd about his appearance, but none of the rare passers-by could quite identify what it was. Some of them speculated that it was the newness of all his possessions. All he owned seemed to have been purchased recently, and by some strange trick of the flickering street lights even his body somehow seemed recently acquired.
Close on his heels clanked a woman dressed in an ancient chain shirt. She too had a crossbow, but it was clearly just for show- the amount of rust on its firing mechanism made it dangerous to its wielder as well as its target.
Bringing up the rear was a non-descript man wearing studded leather armour. Of the three, he alone seemed at home roaming the city streets after dark, and he was the only one to spot two men and a mangy dog loitering down a nearby alley next to a small hand cart loaded with junk. However, concerned with reaching his destination, he paid them no mind.
Once the unlikely trio had passed down the street, one of the loiterers turned to his companion.
“Are you sure those were magic users? Don’t look like any magic users I’ve ever seen.”
His companion shrugged. “Who cares? Kathor reckons they’re worth a hundred each, plus another hundred for that priest woman Torrent, and that’s good enough for me. Let’s go; it’s your turn to pull the cart.”
Nobody noticed the disgruntled eagle, trailing down the street after the three mages and wishing it was safely tucked up in its nest for the night.
********
Three strangers arrived outside the Poison Apple Pub, and finally ruefully acknowledged that they were all headed for the same destination.
The front door was boarded up. The notice on the door read :-
“Trehan Finner, owner of the Poison Apple
Pub, has been taken into temporary custody
under the protection of the city guard, until such
time that he can be questioned by representatives
of the Ragesian Empire, and found innocent of
hostile collusion. The Poison Apple Pub is hereby
closed until further notice.”
The scholar shrugged, headed around the building to the side door, and knocked gently. There was the brief sound of someone moving around inside, the clink of a heavy key turning in the lock, and then the door opened. The three were greeted with the bizarre sight of a creature which seemed to combine the ugliest features of humans and turtles. It was naked apart from bandoliers bristling with axes, daggers and javelins.
“Um, eh, hi. Do come in,” mumbled the creature, eyes downcast.
The party trooped into the tavern’s tap room, which currently consisted of an empty bar and one table on which stood a barrel of beer and three tankards.
As the creature moved to relock the door, the scholar had the brief sensation of wings flapping past his ears. Seeing nothing, he moved to examine the beer barrel.
“I am, um, Caryk,” said the creature. “Please drink some beer as a celebration of the new year.”
“Drinking? Of course! Now I understand,” replied the scholar, making no attempt to pour himself some beer. “I am Jonathan Farrier. I am a scholar.”
Caryk and Jonathan turned to look at the woman in the chain shirt, which seemed to disconcert her. She looked around the room, as if seeking inspiration, and then said unconvincingly, “My name is … Deirdre.”
The other visitor, the male in studded leather, said confidently, “My name is Gribron”.
“What?” replied the rest, pretty much in unison.
“Gr-ib-ron.”
Everybody studied the beer barrel, and ‘Deirdre’ went so far as to pour herself a drink.
Maybe I should change my alias, thought ‘Gribron’. Everybody always has trouble pronouncing it.
“And my name is Solsus”, said a disembodied voice from the corner. Slowly a figure appeared, resembling a very short Elf with gossamer wings. “Sorry for intruding, but I had a feeling this would be an interesting meeting. Could someone please open the door and let in my eagle.”
Caryk sighed, trudged back to the door and laboriously unlocked it. A vicious looking raptor, with a three foot wingspan, burst into the room and (with some difficulty) perched next to Solsus. It seemed to be in a very bad mood. Caryk shrugged, closed the door and locked it.
Once Caryk had returned to the middle of the room he looked through his various scabbards and bandoliers for his prepared speech. This took several minutes, but eventually he was forced to accept he’d forgotten to bring it with him. He’d have to ad lib.
“Um, would anyone like a drink?”
“Yes please,” replied Gribron, who proceeded to help himself to a beer.
“No thank you!” said Solsus. “I don’t touch alcohol. It has all sorts of unforeseen consequences. Far too frivolous. I strongly urge you all to abstain.”
Caryk tried to remember everything Torrent had told him to say, and began to speak.
“Um, thank you three for coming; I mean thank you four, or five if you count the eagle. We need to head for the repository, and take a case from Rivereye Badgerwhotsit to Seaquen. All hail the Resistance!”
The response was mixed.
“Do you mean the depository?” asked Gribron..
“How are you planning to get out of the city, given that the Council has sealed the gates?” enquired Jonathan. “And how are you going to avoid all the Ragesian patrols between here and there?”
Caryk seemed to warm to his task. “The Badger has obtained vital information from Ragos, the very capital of the Empire. The Resistance is an extremely powerful body, and normally such key documents would be teleported to their destination. Normally getting out of the city would be easy.”
“I couldn’t help noticing you mentioned the word “normally” a few times,” commented Jonathan.
“Ah,” replied Caryk. “Unfortunately we can’t teleport at the moment because ever since the Emperor died people who teleport long distances have arrived at their destination burnt to a crisp. Instead the plan is to head for Seaquen via the Fire Forest. The Ragesians won’t patrol the Fire Forest because ever since it started burning forty years ago everyone who has entered has been burnt to a crisp.”
The response from his audience was less than positive.
“Did I mention Torrent has given me a load of fire resistance potions? I’m sure I must have. Anyway …”
It is now midnight. All the bells in the city ring out in celebration of the new year. Whatever else Caryk says is drowned out by the noise.
Abruptly the bells cease, and Gribron hears the floorboards creak upstairs, as if someone was walking on them. He points this out to the rest. Caryk is puzzled. He confirmed earlier that the pub was empty, so how can someone be moving around upstairs?
And now everyone can hear dull muted thumps coming from outside, as if ripe fruit was falling onto the rooftops.
Caryk snatches up his backpack, and heads for the side door, key in hand. Solsus pulls out his sling, and slowly fades from sight.
From outside comes the cry, “Front door, go!” and something heavy smashes into the main door. It rattles on its hinges, but still holds. The need for stealth over, a group of men, armed with morning stars, stomp down the stairs.
No one is expecting what happens next.
There is a dull thud, as something strikes the roof, followed almost immediately by a deafening boom. The whole inn shakes. Screams of agony come from the men on the stairs – only the bottom two escape the carnage. Then the ceiling boards start to crack and buckle, whole sections then give way and a fiery rain leaks down into the room. Fortunately, none of the group are standing in the affected areas.
Caryk unlocks the side door, and heads out into the alley. He immediately realises that to his left the narrow passage has now been deliberately blocked by a new pile of rubble, and to his right stand a pair of humans, equipped with saps and shields. Alongside them is a mangy dog, which snaps and snarls.
“Drop your weapons and come quietly,” says the larger of the two men. “We don’t want to break your valuable little heads.”
Unable to think of a pithy response, Caryk steps forward and swings a punch at the speaker. The man easily blocks the blow on his shield, and sneers contemptuously. “You’ll have to do better than that, you ugly beggar.”
Jonathan is hard on Caryk’s heels. Spotting the men, he pulls back the hood of his scholar’s robe and fixes them with an icy stare. “Tremble before me, mortals!” he booms. The two thugs seem visibly shaken by his actions.
Inside the building, the invisible Solsus looses a sling bullet at one of the two survivors of the ill fated indoor ambush party. However, all the confusion affects his aim, and the shot is well wide. He too then heads out the door and, not liking conditions on the ground, flies straight up in the air.
His eagle however, has one thought on its mind. It flies out of the building and heads off down the alleyway. It lacks Solsus’s grace in the air, so wouldn’t be able to replicate his flight path even if it was able to see him.
Gribron and Deirdre, now alone in the pub with two thugs, react in different ways. Gribron starts chanting a spell. Deirdre simply points at the nearest opponent, and a blast of eldritch energy shoots from her hand. Its hard to target in all the smoke and rubble, and her victim is able to dodge her attack.
Out in the alleyway, the two thugs swing at Caryk with their saps. He’s a nimble opponent, and they are suffering the effects of what Jonathan did to them. When their blows land, he’s no longer in the way.
“Go on Sauce, get the bleeder!” orders one of the thugs. Reluctantly the dog complies, but its bite cannot penetrate Caryk’s tough skin.
“They are in the alley. Drop the ram and use your crossbows,” says a crisp voice. The street’s flickering torch light makes identifying enemies difficult, but Caryk’s eyesight is better than a human’s in such low light conditions. He spots a man on horseback, some distance from the pub, who seems to be co-ordinating the thugs’ efforts.
There’s the sound of a heavy object – presumably the battering ram – hitting the ground, and two more thugs come into view. They move opposite the alley entrance, and take careful aim with their crossbows.
After missing with his first punch, Caryk tries a different approach. He snatches out his hatchet from its holster, and brings it down in a vicious overhead blow. The thug’s sneer slowly fades as he realises the axe is buried in his head. He drops to the ground.
Jonathan fixes his gaze on the second thug, but nothing happens.
Solsus heads towards the crossbowmen, and looses off another sling bullet. He misses again. As he does so, he lets off a piercing whistle. His loyal eagle, having recovered from its initial panic, swoops around and heads for the source of the noise.
Inside the pub, the two intruders pick their way cautiously through the burning rubble, and manage to reach Gribron just as his spell takes effect. Despite the gravity of the situation, they both decide to take a nap.
Since the situation inside now seems to be under control, Deirdre heads out into the alleyway. It seems very crowded here, so she walks up the wall of the neighbouring building and surveys the scene from its roof. Calmly, she lets off a blast of energy at the remaining thug fighting Caryk. It strikes him a glancing blow, but he stays on his feet.
Gritting his teeth, the thug drops his sap and pulls out his shortsword. Bounty or no bounty, all thoughts of subduing their quarry seem to have fled. Unfortunately for him, he still can’t manage to hit the elusive Caryk, and neither can Sauce.
The other two thugs fire their crossbows at Caryk. It’s a very tricky shot, with their comrade in the way, but more by luck than judgement one bolt strikes home. Caryk chokes back a cry of pain, and does his best to ignore the wound, but he looks in very bad shape. He slashes his opponent with his axe, but doesn’t come close to hitting.
The eagle swoops down on one of the crossbowmen, but misses. Gribron, alone in the pub, takes the opportunity to snatch the belt pouches from the sleeping intruders. He has a deft touch, and neither one stirs.
The dog, seeing the eagle so close to the ground, runs over and tries to grasp it in his mouth. The alert eagle is too quick for him, and all Sauce gains is a couple of tail feathers.
Gribron steps into the alley and starts to cast a repeat of his sleep spell on the crossbowmen. They too are unable to resist his sorcery, and decide to have a snooze.
Solsus, anxious to protect the eagle, hits the dog with a sling stone. The eagle, however, needs no such assistance. In a whirlwind of beak and claws it kills the hapless mongrel.
The mounted man orders his last remaining thug to surrender. Then he canters off down the street.
The thug, finding himself alone, throws down his sword. Caryk leads him away from the pub, so he can question him. He learns that the thug belongs to an organisation known as the Black Horse, but the thug does not know how they found out about the meeting. Only the mounted man, Kathor, knows that. The thug is then sent on his way, and the party set off for the meeting in the depository.
Solsus, seeing Caryk’s injured condition, is able to provide him with a little magical healing, which eases some of the pain.
They have only gone a short distance when Caryk remembers that two intruders are still asleep in the burning building.
“We’ll have to go back!”
“You can if you want,” replies Solsus. “No doubt you can catch us up.”
Heading back on his own, Caryk tries to drag one of the intruders out of the building. The man wakes up in the process, and helps Caryk with the second man. Once safely outside, they start to rouse the crossbowmen. The four look appraisingly at Caryk for a second, but there’s no bounty for him so they decide to head off down the street.
Caryk soon catches up with the others, whose progress has been slowed by panicking crowds who are fleeing burning buildings. There are dark shapes flitting overhead, dropping bombs on the city.
The party encounters a family huddled outside what’s left of their house. They are badly burned. Jonathan turns out to have some skill at mundane healing, and is able to ease their condition somewhat. As they leave, Caryk gives them some of the money Gribron looted from the intruders in the inn.
There is another short delay when the party encounters a crowd gathered around a four storey building. The house is on fire, and there is a woman trapped at an upper window. Deirdre walks up the side of the house with a rope, followed by a flying Solsus. The two of them tie the rope to a piece of furniture, and do their best to take the strain themselves, and the woman climbs down without mishap.
They are heading for the gate into the next district when a massive shadow passes overhead. A wave of fear passes over everybody, and the party are lucky to avoid being crushed in the ensuing panic.
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