carborundum
Adventurer
Whoooo!!!
How did CoT work out? Did you pump up the bad guy as usual? Did he kick serious bottom again? ;-)
How did CoT work out? Did you pump up the bad guy as usual? Did he kick serious bottom again? ;-)
JollyDoc's Kingmaker-Updated 7/4/2011
JollyDoc
Explorer
Not exactly...
We use the critical fumble deck, and so...Eccardian sort of fumbled on his first salvo of attacks. The result was called Fling, in which the recipient flings his weapon 1d6 squares in a random direction. So...on huge, summoned earth elemental later, and the weapon, Eccardian's ONLY weapon, I might add, was no longer in play.
JollyDoc
Explorer
The return of the...
Sunday Night Teaser!
1) A truly motley assortment of pioneers finds themselves as strange travelling companions into the unknown wilds of the Stolen Lands.
2) Arriving at a remote trading post, they stumble into a case of mistaken identity, and find themselves thrown into action before they have time to settle in.
3) Their first foray into battle sees them successfully bust up and extortion racket, and the beginnings of a profitable friendship.
4) The exploration of the Green Belt begins in earnest, with many tasks already set out before the band. But when they decide to take out the bandits behind the extortion ring, they find themselves in over their heads!!
Sunday Night Teaser!
1) A truly motley assortment of pioneers finds themselves as strange travelling companions into the unknown wilds of the Stolen Lands.
2) Arriving at a remote trading post, they stumble into a case of mistaken identity, and find themselves thrown into action before they have time to settle in.
3) Their first foray into battle sees them successfully bust up and extortion racket, and the beginnings of a profitable friendship.
4) The exploration of the Green Belt begins in earnest, with many tasks already set out before the band. But when they decide to take out the bandits behind the extortion ring, they find themselves in over their heads!!
R-Hero
Explorer
Thats about the cheeziest, hokey, corny bit of.. I ever...er uhm...
"whispers" (Wish I would have thought of that first!)
Paitently awaiting the return to the story. (Looks at watch, calander etc.)
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carborundum
Adventurer
The Sunday Night Teaser is back!
...and all is right with the world
...and all is right with the world
JollyDoc
Explorer
Never fear...this week's update should be complete by this weekend. I also plan on posting some "action" photos of our NEW EMISSARY GAMING TABLE!!! It is 7 feet of pure Awesome!!
JollyDoc
Explorer
WHENCE KINGS ARE MADE
“Be it known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west, and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Talistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.”
____________________________________________________________
Oleg’s trading post was located at the southern edge of Rostland (and thus Brevoy), and further south, the green line of the Narlmarches loomed only a few miles away. The post’s remote location and inconvenient distance from a major river ultimately kept it from realizing significant financial success. That suited Oleg just fine. The trader decided to move himself and his wife, Svetlana, to precisely such an isolated locale to get away from the constant machinations and political maneuverings that seemed to dominate urban life in Restov. All he ever truly wanted was a place for the two of them to live far enough from the sins of civilization without living so far that they couldn’t enjoy all of its benefits. Accepting a charter from Restov to rebuild an abandoned border fort into a trading post seemed like the perfect solution.
Oleg and Svetlana spent several months renovating the old fort, their customers few and far between, consisting mostly of trappers, hunters and an eccentric hermit named Bokken, whose occasional potions helped keep the post in business when the fur trade was inconsistent. Things were good for awhile…until word of the trading post caught the attention of the local bandits who infested the Greenbelt to the south. They first appeared at his gate three months past, and were it not for the fact that he feared for what might happen to Svetlana, Oleg would have no doubt sacrificed his life in some foolish attempt to defend his stock. Instead, he’d been forced to turn over each month’s revenue to the brigands when they appeared to collect their “tithe.”
Svetlana knew her husband better than he knew himself, and she was well aware how much pain the situation caused him, and that she was the reason he hadn’t stood up to the bandits. That act of humility was crushing his soul. She’d pleaded with him on more than one occasion to abandon the trading post and return to Restov, but Oleg had stubbornly refused to give in completely. His only concession to her wishes had been to send several requests to the city for reinforcements whenever a trapper or hunter stopped by on their way back to civilization. In fact, he’d recently received word back with a promise that a group of guards would soon be sent, but so far, he’d seen no sign of such protection. Little did he know that his request would be answered sooner than expected…or how his life would be irrevocably changed from that point on…
______________________________________________________________
“Do you see something that disturbs you?” Velox asked as he glanced aside at the burly half-breed that strode beside him. The big man had been darting furtive looks in his direction ever since the six unlikely companions had set out from Restov.
“That mark on your face…,” Davrim replied.
“Ah,” Velox nodded. “It is the mark of my Lady.”
“Is the Lady you speak of called Iomedae?” Davrim asked thoughtfully.
“You know of her?” the young man exclaimed.
“Indeed I do,” the half-orc smiled, “for she is my Lady as well. I am an inquisitor in Her service.”
Velox’s blank expression puzzled Davrim.
“Are you new to the church?” he asked. “Are you unfamiliar with the hierarchy?”
Velox dropped his gaze to his boots. “I am not a part of your church. I was…called. The Lady spoke to me and revealed to me that She had a purpose for me, and that it would be revealed in time.”
Davrim’s eyes widened. “You’re an oracle? I never dreamed I would actually meet one!”
“I am not familiar with the term,” Velox said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “As I said, I am not a part of your church.”
The half-orc shook his head in disbelief. “You really don’t know what you are, do you? You are unique, my young friend. You are a gift! Truly if the two of us have found ourselves upon this same road, then it is a sign that this is where the Lady wants us to be, and that our mission is just!”
Further behind the two warriors, a pair of women also walked side-by-side, but as anyone could tell easily just by looking at them, the few feet of distance between them wasn’t all that separated them.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Selena said at length, “you don’t seem exactly…suited… to this sort of journey.”
The other woman looked at her coolly from beneath thick lashes and heavily applied mascara. As she reached up to push her carefully coiffed hair from her face, heavy gold bracelets jangled against her wrist.
“Oh?” she asked as she quirked one carefully plucked eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, do you think I’m ‘suited’ to be doing?”
Selena smirked. “Adorning the arm of some nobleman would be my guess. Did your husband send you along to pick out land for your summer estate?” She laughed harshly as she lifted the black viper coiled around her forearm to her lips for a quick kiss.
The other woman’s face wrinkled in disgust.
“Well, snake handling and fetishes aren’t my forte, to be sure,” she sneered as her eyes traveled over the eclectic garb of the witch, “but don’t underestimate me, sweetheart. My name’s Mox, by the way, and you’d do well to keep your opinions to yourself and stay out of my way.”
The oddest pair of the company brought up the rear. The dwarf was a sight in-and-of-himself. He wore rough, tanned animal skins, and his hair and beard were wild and unkempt, with bits of dirt and twigs caught up in the twisted mass. He carried a simple wooden cudgel belted at his waist. His companion was rustic as well, but carried himself with a calm that came from a lifetime of familiarity with his surroundings. He wore forest colors and a mottled cloak, a hunter’s bow slung over his back, and a sword at his hip. His face was weathered and tanned, but his youth showed through when he smiled as he glanced askance at the belching dwarf beside him.
“Tungdill, is it?” the ranger asked.
“Aye,” the dwarf grunted. “I’ll answer to it. What was yours again? I ain’t too good with names. People neither for that matter.”
“Stevhan,” the ranger replied, and extended his hand.
Tungdill grunted again as he shook it awkwardly.
“What do ya make of the rest of this crew?” he asked. “Look like a bunch of soft, city dwellers to me.” He spat a wad of gooey phlegm at his feet.
“I suppose,” Stevhan nodded, “but I’ve found that looks can be deceiving. For example, I would be inclined to think that most folk would underestimate you at first glance, but what I see is three-feet and a couple of hundred pounds of barely caged fury.”
Tungdill bellowed with laughter and slapped the ranger across the back with a meaty hand.
“I like you, boy!” he roared. “You and me is gonna get along just fine!”
_____________________________________________________________
Oleg’s Trading Post wasn’t much to look at. The old fort was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and at each corner stood an old watch tower, each armed with a decrepit and obviously non-functioning catapult. The double gates stood open, revealing an open yard surrounded by a stable, a guesthouse, and the main hall. The sound of hammering could be heard coming from the roof of the hall, and as the six companions entered the compound, a rosy-cheeked woman came bustling from the guest house, her broad smile beaming.
“You’ve come!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
Velox stepped forward and presented the charter to her.
“We’re here on the authority of the Swordlords, good lady,” he said, bowing.
“Oh yes,” she nodded, still smiling, “we’ve been expecting you! I’m Svetlana, and that’s my husband, Oleg.” She gestured towards the man up on the roof, who seemed to be taking his time putting away his tools and coming down the ladder. “They sent you to take care of our bandit problem!”
“Well…,” Stevhan hesitated, “our charter does give us authority to deal with banditry. Are you saying that you’ve had dealings with some?”
By that time, Oleg had joined them. He was a big, swarthy man with permanent frown lines etched between his brows. He took the charter from Svetlana and quickly scanned it, his scowl deepening, and his face reddening as he did so.
“Oh for the love of Erastil!” he shouted, tossing the parchment to the ground. “They aren’t the ones we asked for! They’re just a bunch of prospectors!”
He threw his hands in the air and stormed off.
“Forgive him,” Svetlana said quietly as she bent to retrieve the charter and perused it. “We have indeed been having bandit problems, and we sent word to Restov weeks ago requesting soldiers to help us. When we saw you coming, we thought our prayers had been answered.”
“Well, as my friend said,” Velox replied, “we have been granted authority to deal with bandits, and if you will pardon my bravado, it may be that we are better equipped to do so than the militia. Can you give us the details of your situation?”
Svetlana invited them inside the main hall, and sat with them around a long table while Oleg made himself busy behind the bar, studiously trying not to look like he was listening in.
“They first came three months ago, and threatened to burn down the post,” she began. “They also said that they would…take me…if we didn’t agree to hand over all of the furs and goods we’d accumulated over the previous month. Since then, they’ve returned twice more…each time at sunrise on the first day of the month…which is tomorrow.”
“How many of them are there?” Davrim asked.
“The first time they came,” Svetlana replied, “there were a dozen of them. Ten of them seemed like your typical riff-raff, but there was also a cloaked man who carried a longbow, and a woman who wore two small axes. It was she who did most of the talking.” Svetlana’s voice lowered. “The way she smiled when she said what would happen to me if we didn’t pay them…She seemed smarter than the cloaked man…and more dangerous. I think she was their leader. On the later visits, though, only the hooded man came. He had six men with him on the second trip, and only four on the last one. I guess they think they have us cowed. Maybe when they come tomorrow, there will be even fewer. Will you help us?”
“You needn’t ask,” Velox replied. “Do I speak for us all?” he looked around the table. One by one, his companions nodded.
From behind the counter, Oleg grunted. “We’ll see.”
______________________________________________________________
At dawn the next morning, four horsemen rode into the yard of the trading post. Their leader wore a hooded, grey cloak and carried a longbow over his shoulders.
“You’d best get your arses out here!” he shouted, rising in his stirrups. “I don’t like waiting, and if you make me, I’ll start tossing some fire in to speed you up!”
His three thuggish companions laughed coarsely, but Happs didn’t. Happs Bydon was a cruel man who’d turned to banditry after he was caught running a protection racket in Restov while also, at least in theory, serving as a soldier in the city guard. He fled the city when he learned the law was coming for him, abandoning a wife and two children to suffer the shame of his crimes. Absent of morals and conscience though he was, he was no fool, and he sensed immediately that something wasn’t right. His head whipped to the left as he caught a furtive movement in the stable from the corner of his eye.
“It’s a trap!” he screamed.
An arrow hissed through the air as the bunkhouse door behind the bandits slammed open. It sank into the flank of the rear rider. As he screamed and slipped from his horse, Davrim was already upon him, sweeping his greatsword from his back sheath as he came. The half-orc’s heavy blade never stopped, its deadly arc continuing down as it severed the brigand’s head from his shoulders. Happs turned in confusion and rage, sawing at the reins of his own mount as he fought to control it. A sudden flash of light from above and behind him caused him to spin reflexively in the opposite direction. He caught a brief glance of a tall woman dressed like a noble standing atop one of the watchtowers just as a bolt of blue fire struck him in the chest, and flung him from the saddle. He just managed to climb to his hands and knees when he saw the odd sight of a wild-eyed dwarf emerging from the stables. The little troll was chanting something and waving his hands about like some sort of witch-doctor. Before Happs knew whether to laugh or shout in rage, a small, black storm cloud appeared directly over his head, and a small bolt of lightning and tiny hail stones struck him about the head. He collapsed in a heap, unconscious.
The remaining bandits panicked. Their mounts tangled as they struggled to turn them towards the gate. Before they could get them disentangled, Velox had emerged from the stables behind Tungdill.
“Forgive them, father,” he muttered as he drove his blade through one man’s chest.
The last brigand dug his heels into his horse’s ribs, spurring it into a gallop. Just as he reached the gate, however, Stevhan knocked a second arrow and loosed in one smooth motion. The shaft took the fleeing man in the throat, and he was dead before he hit the ground.
____________________________________________________________
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!” Oleg laughed as he surveyed the carnage. “When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, and I’m not too proud to admit it.”
He stuck out one, meaty paw and Velox gripped it, nodding silently.
“You can consider my home yours now,” the trader said. “You’ll need a base camp if you’re dead set on exploring the Green Belt.”
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Velox replied. “I’m sure we’ll need all the help we can get in this wilderness, but aren’t you concerned that the friends of this rabble will come for revenge?”
“Maybe,” Oleg shrugged, “eventually, but they’re a bunch of cowards at heart. I think it’ll be awhile before they try anything. Maybe by that time the guards from Restov will be here. Besides, I plan on stringing up the bodies outside my wall. Let that be a warning to any other troublemakers that come sniffing around.”
“Is that really necessary?” Davrim growled.
“Justice has already been served,” Velox added. “Let the dead lie in peace.”
“Bah!” Oleg waved them off. “You’re not in Restov anymore. Your urban sensibilities will get you killed quick out here. You’ll learn in time, I suppose. Anyway, what’re you going to do with that one?”
Happs, bound hand-and-foot, was just coming around. The others stood around him in a menacing circle.
“You rubes don’t know what you’ve gotten yourselves into!” he spat. “When Kressle finds out about this, you’re all dead! And you two…” he grinned evilly at Oleg and Svetlana, “you’ll only wish you were dead by the time she gets through with you!”
“You need to calm down, little man,” Mox said smiling as she crouched down next to the bandit, “or I’ll have to have my less lady-like friend here,” she jerked her head towards Selena, “introduce you to her pet.”
Selena smiled wickedly as Sinister slithered out of her sleeve and onto Happs’s leg.
“No!” he screamed. “Not snakes! Anything but snakes! What!? What do you want from me!?”
“We want to know where your camp is,” Stevhan answered. “We want to know about this Kressle, and how many men she has there. Oh, and we also want to know about this stag head necklace you were wearing.”
“Alright! Alright!” Happs cried. “Just keep that snake away from me! The camp’s about thirty miles southwest of here, on the Thorn River! Kressle’s our leader, and she’s got about six or eight other guys still with her! She gave me the necklace, told me it meant I was her second. That’s all I know! I swear!”
“So he’s spilled his guts,” Oleg snorted. “Now what?”
“We were given the authority to deal out justice as we see fit,” Velox said, “but I’m not a murderer. You say the Restov soldiers should be arriving soon? Would you mind keeping an eye on our friend there until they arrive?”
Oleg’s toothy grin was positively wolf-like.
“It’d be my pleasure!”
_____________________________________________________________
WANTED!
Bandits, dead or alive!
By order of the Swordlords
For six or more bandits
Living or dead,
A reward of 400 gold crowns is offered!
WANTED!
The Sootscale kobolds are in turmoil!
They pose a threat to any civilized undertakings in the Green Belt!
Slay them all, or make peace with them!
The Swordlords offer a reward of 800 gold crowns!
WANTED!
One Tatzylwyrm head!
See Oleg for details.
Reward of 600 gold crowns is offered!
WANTED!
Tuskgutter!
Bring the great boar’s head to Vekkel Benzen!
Excellent bow with six magic arrows offered,
As well as a share in some wonderful head cheese!
The bounty board inside Oleg’s post looked to offer plenty of opportunities for a group of intrepid explorers. Stevhan carefully detached and folded each of the flyers before tucking them neatly into his cloak. You never knew when a few extra coins in your pocket might make the difference between life and death. The ranger then wandered back over to where his companions were discussing their next course of action.
“So it’s decided then?” Velox was saying. “We head for the Thorn River and try to find the bandits’ camp?”
“It’s part of our charter,” Davrim shrugged. “We kill two birds with one stone by exploring the territory between here and there, and then ridding the area of those murderers.”
“Suits me,” Tungdill nodded, food from his beard spilling on the table as he did so. “They’re a blight, and the only way to get rid of a blight is to pull it out by the roots.”
Selena stroked her snake absently. “The dwarf is right,” she said. “Personally, I don’t particularly care if the brigands are a threat to the so-called civilized folk, but they’re poison to the land itself.”
“Your compassion is beyond touching,” Mox smirked. “Count me in.”
“So be it,” Velox finished. “We’ll set out in the morning then.”
“If you’re hells-bent on taking them on,” Oleg interrupted, “might I ask one more favor of you lads and ladies? The first time the bums came here, that bitch who was leading them took Svetlana’s wedding ring. She acts like it’s no big deal, but I know how much it meant to her. If you happen to come across it in their camp, I’d be grateful if you could return it to her.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Velox replied. “If it’s there, we’ll find it.”
______________________________________________________________
The following morning, as the companions packed up their gear on the four horses they’d taken from Happs and his boys, Svetlana approached them with her own request.
“You might not have noticed,” she smiled demurely, “but Oleg’s been under quite a bit of stress lately.”
“You don’t say,” Tungdill snorted.
“Well,” she continued, “I’d love nothing more than to be able to cheer him up by making him his favorite meal…moon radish soup! The problem is, though, moon radishes are pretty scarce in these parts. I do know of a patch that grows a day’s ride south of here. If you’re heading for the Thorn River, it would be on your way. If you find some, could you gather a basket for me?”
Selena rolled her eyes, but Velox nodded politely.
“It would be our pleasure, my lady,” he said.
They set out before the sun was fully above the horizon. Tungdill and Selena rode double, as did Mox and Stevhan, while Davrim and Velox, being the largest, each had their own mount. The first day’s travel out of Oleg’s was a largely uneventful trek across the verdant grasslands of the Green Belt. By the next morning, however, they had reached the edge of the Narlmarches, the vast forest that stretched south and west across the Stolen Lands. The trees were dense, and consisted of oaks, beech and rushleaf, but they were crisscrossed with game trails and clearings which made the going somewhat easier. As the group approached one such clearing, they began to hear odd, moaning sounds coming from directly ahead. Quietly, they dismounted and crept as stealthily as they could through the undergrowth. Stevhan carefully parted the branches and peered through. What he saw struck him as simultaneously surreal and comical. Four, small reptilian creatures lay sprawled on their backs, their bellies round and bloated. Scattered about them lay dozens of half-eaten radishes.
“I think we found Svetlana’s radish patch,” he whispered to his companions, “but it looks like somebody else got here first.”
The others snickered as they saw the odd sight.
“Kobolds,” Selena said. “Weak, cowardly. They’ll probably flee at the sight of us.”
The six of them stepped into the clearing, Stevhan clearing his throat as they did so. The kobolds squeaked and scrambled to their feet, grabbing their spears that lay beside them.
“Can you speak to them?” Stevhan turned to Selena and asked.
“Watch out!” she shouted in warning.
The ranger spun, crouching low and drawing his sword reflexively as he did so. The kobolds were charging. Cursing, he lunged forward and drove his blade through the belly of the first one. The twang of Davrim’s bow sounded from behind him as an arrow embedded itself in the eye of the second. Stevhan was up and moving before the first two bodies hit the ground. He swept his blade wide in front of him and disemboweled the third, but before he could turn his attention to the last kobold, a small clap of thunder pealed above him. When he looked up, he saw the same miniature thunderhead Tungdill had summoned against the bandits. A small lightning bolt forked out and struck the kobold in the chest. It grunted weakly as its eyes rolled back into its head, and it crumpled.
_____________________________________________________________
“It’s a shame we had to kill most of them,” Stevhan said as he showed the others the flyer he’d taken from Oleg. “They might have been able to tell us something about their tribe.”
“This one’s waking up,” Tungdill said, nudging the groaning kobold with the toe of his boot. “Maybe the witch’s snake can loosen his tongue.”
Selena shrugged. “How about I just ask him first?”
She knelt down next to the wide-eyed creature, and thought she spoke in a soft voice, the language she used was harsh and sibilant.
“Are you of the Sootscale tribe?” she asked.
“Sootscale’s are mighty!” the little reptile shrieked. “Not afraid of big folk!”
“I’m sure,” Selena smiled. “How many of you are there?”
The kobold wrinkled his forehead. “More than two,” he replied, nodding defiantly.
“Tell him we’ll let him go,” Velox said. “Tell him we want to make peace with his people, and to tell them we were merciful.”
Selena relayed the message, and the kobold leaped to his feet and darted for the trees, casting a fearful glance back over his shoulder as he ran.
______________________________________________________________
“Here,” Stevhan said from where he crouched by the banks of a swift flowing river. “There are hoof prints in the mud. They’re several days old, but I can still track them.”
He mounted up again, and the companions continued along the forest trail, albeit at a stealthier pace. A short time later, Stevhan held up a hand silently, bringing them to a halt. He pointed ahead to where the trees thinned into a small clearing. At the far side stood a wagon, a metallic glint shining from its bed. The ranger’s eyes began flickering through the trees until they finally settled on a fallen log about fifty paces away. He was just opening his mouth to warn his companions when he heard a sharp, whistling sound as something small and round landed in their midst…a stone of some sort. A moment later it exploded with a deafening thunderclap of sound.
Chaos broke loose around the group. Stevhan and Tungdill’s ears rang with a dull roar in the wake of the explosion. The horse that the dwarf and Selena were riding reared and bolted, throwing the pair from the saddle. Davrim’s horse lunged away as well, but the half-orc was able to land on his feet as he hastily dismounted the panicked animal. Stevhan and Velox spurred their own mounts forward, towards the brigand who was now fleeing from behind the log towards the shelter of the trees. Velox reached him first, his horse leaping the log easily. The young oracle heard his father’s voice fill his ears as the spirit of the Lady overwhelmed him. He cut down the running man, then whirled his mount round as he heard a chorus of hoarse shouts from the trees to his left. There, a half-dozen more bandits appeared, bows in their hands and arrows knocked. Behind them, a woman dressed in leathers and carrying a gleaming axe in each hand barked orders in their ears. In an instant, the brigands let fly with a volley. One of them struck Mox, but she rolled with the impact, dismounting her horse as if she were born to the saddle and landing deftly on her feet in a crouch, clutching at the shaft protruding from her shoulder. Her face clenched in pain, she paid no attention to the ravening group of bandits. Instead, she scanned the trees nearby. That’s where the thunderstone had come from. Then she saw him, hunkered down on a small platform amid the thick branches of an oak.
Tungdill and Selena climbed to their feet, bruised, but no worse for wear. In fact, their prone positions were probably all that had saved them from being impaled by stray arrows. When the dwarf saw the clustered bandits, a broad smile split his scraggly face.
“Gotcha just where I want ya!” he crowed.
He pulled what looked like a chicken’s foot from his pocket and began muttering under his breath as he scratched at the ground with it.
“I don’t believe what I’m seeing!” Selena exclaimed in disbelief as she saw the results of the druid’s casting.
The vines, grass, and underbrush around the bandits suddenly came to writhing life, wrapping around their feet and legs with grasping tendrils. They cursed roundly as they struggled to free themselves, but unfortunately for Tungdill, his actions had also caught the attention of the bandits’ leader.
“Kill the dwarf!” she shouted.
Momentarily ignoring their entanglement, her men turned towards the druid and let fly with another salvo. Three arrows struck Tungdill, two in the chest, and the third in his thigh. With a grunt, he fell heavily into the brush.
Kressle was having a grand time! The leader of the brigands had banditry in her blood. Born in the River Kingdoms, throughout her life she had never spent more than a week in one spot. Even as a child she was already helping her parents rob travelers and rough up pilgrims for some quick cash. When her parents were killed after an ambush, she headed north to seek her fortune, only to end up being captured by a group of bandits herself. When two of them lost hands and fingers to her axes, however, their thoughts turned from rape to escape. Kressle followed the wounded ruffians back to their fort. Their leader, impressed by her skill and bravery, slew her attackers and recruited her on the spot. She moved up the ranks in a matter of months, until the boss sent her to run the Thorn River camp. She knew when that idiot Happs failed to return from the trading post, that it would only be a matter of time before she’d have to deal with whomever’d done him in. She was just glad they’d saved her the trouble of hunting them down.
“Let’s take it to’em, boys!” she hooted as she tore her feet free of the writhing undergrowth.
Davrim turned towards the approaching bandits, swinging his sword in broad loops as he waited for them to reach the edge of the spell Tungdill had cast. He quickly realized his mistake as he saw one of the bandits come to a halt not ten paces away as he drew a bead on the big half-orc with his bow. Davrim tried to duck, but he was too slow, and the arrow smacked meatily into his backside. Stevhan moved to go to Davrim’s side, but when he looked back at Tungdill, he was torn. He didn’t know if the dwarf was dead or alive, and before he could make up his mind, two of the outlaws had freed themselves from the entanglement and stood between him and Davrim. The ranger slid from his horse, for he was not accustomed to fighting from a saddle. As he did so, however, the two men rushed him. He spun like a snake and parried the first blow, but the second slipped beneath his blade and gouged across his ribs. Hissing in pain, he swung his sword backhanded and slashed the throat of the nearest brigand.
Mox still played cat-and-mouse with the brigand crouched in the tree. She darted quickly among the tree trunks as arrows thunked into the boles around her. Finally, she reached a spot where she had a clear view of the brigand. He turned as he saw her, pulling his bowstring all the way back to his jaw. Mox quickly brought her hands up and spoke a word. A streaking blue projectile flew from her fingers and struck the bandit in the forehead just as his fingers prepared to release his arrow. He tumbled from the tree as if pole-axed, and struck the ground fifteen-feet below with a sickening crunch.
Davrim was surrounded. Four of the brigands had freed themselves and flanked him on all sides, jabbing and feinting with their swords. As he turned this way and that, trying to deflect the blows, one penetrated his defenses, stabbing into his knee. His leg began to buckle, yet he struck out with a cry of rage, disemboweling his nearest assailant. He brought his sword up defensively, trying to ward off what he knew was his eminent death, and then he heard her cry. Kressle rushed at him, her axes crossed over her chest. She swung one with deadly efficiency, slicing the half-orc’s hamstring and sweeping him completely off his feet. As she stood over him, poised for the kill, Davrim heard thundering hooves approaching. He and the bandit leader turned at the same time to see Velox bearing down on them. The oracle leaped from the saddle at the last minute, driving his sword into the chest of one of the brigands as he landed. As he rolled to his feet, however, Kressle was on him. He caught one of her descending axes on the guard of his blade, but the other hacked into his shoulder.
“Still alive, I see,” Selena smiled down at Tungdill.
“I’m tougher than I look,” the dwarf wheezed.
“Looks like our friends may be in some trouble,” the witch observed. “Will you be ok if I leave you?”
“I’ve done pretty good on my own for a long time,” Tungdill chuckled weakly. “I s’pose I’ll make it a few minutes longer.”
Selena nodded and ghosted away through the trees. As she departed, the injured druid began another chant, and as he did so, a dense mist rose from the ground around him, enveloping him in its concealing layers.
Selena moved quickly, passing Stevhan just as he dispatched his last opponent. She approached the spot where Velox and Davrim still fought for their lives, and saw it was only a matter of time before they were overpowered. Velox had drawn blood on the female bandit, but she still fought like a dervish. Her last two surviving men both looked hale and hearty. Selena stopped several paces away and drew a strand of beads and feathers from her bodice. She focused her thoughts and raised both hands, her fingers forked in the sign of the Eye. The two bandits turned towards her, their gazes unfocusing. In unison, they swooned and fell to the ground, sound asleep and snoring. Kressle gaped in rage and surprise, and in that moment when she dropped her defenses, Velox struck, burying his sword to the hilt in her chest.
Sometime later, when the sleeping bandits awoke and found Kressle dead, and themselves surrounded by six very unhappy looking characters, they immediately, and wisely, surrendered.
“Be it known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west, and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Talistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.”
____________________________________________________________
Oleg’s trading post was located at the southern edge of Rostland (and thus Brevoy), and further south, the green line of the Narlmarches loomed only a few miles away. The post’s remote location and inconvenient distance from a major river ultimately kept it from realizing significant financial success. That suited Oleg just fine. The trader decided to move himself and his wife, Svetlana, to precisely such an isolated locale to get away from the constant machinations and political maneuverings that seemed to dominate urban life in Restov. All he ever truly wanted was a place for the two of them to live far enough from the sins of civilization without living so far that they couldn’t enjoy all of its benefits. Accepting a charter from Restov to rebuild an abandoned border fort into a trading post seemed like the perfect solution.
Oleg and Svetlana spent several months renovating the old fort, their customers few and far between, consisting mostly of trappers, hunters and an eccentric hermit named Bokken, whose occasional potions helped keep the post in business when the fur trade was inconsistent. Things were good for awhile…until word of the trading post caught the attention of the local bandits who infested the Greenbelt to the south. They first appeared at his gate three months past, and were it not for the fact that he feared for what might happen to Svetlana, Oleg would have no doubt sacrificed his life in some foolish attempt to defend his stock. Instead, he’d been forced to turn over each month’s revenue to the brigands when they appeared to collect their “tithe.”
Svetlana knew her husband better than he knew himself, and she was well aware how much pain the situation caused him, and that she was the reason he hadn’t stood up to the bandits. That act of humility was crushing his soul. She’d pleaded with him on more than one occasion to abandon the trading post and return to Restov, but Oleg had stubbornly refused to give in completely. His only concession to her wishes had been to send several requests to the city for reinforcements whenever a trapper or hunter stopped by on their way back to civilization. In fact, he’d recently received word back with a promise that a group of guards would soon be sent, but so far, he’d seen no sign of such protection. Little did he know that his request would be answered sooner than expected…or how his life would be irrevocably changed from that point on…
______________________________________________________________
“Do you see something that disturbs you?” Velox asked as he glanced aside at the burly half-breed that strode beside him. The big man had been darting furtive looks in his direction ever since the six unlikely companions had set out from Restov.
“That mark on your face…,” Davrim replied.
“Ah,” Velox nodded. “It is the mark of my Lady.”
“Is the Lady you speak of called Iomedae?” Davrim asked thoughtfully.
“You know of her?” the young man exclaimed.
“Indeed I do,” the half-orc smiled, “for she is my Lady as well. I am an inquisitor in Her service.”
Velox’s blank expression puzzled Davrim.
“Are you new to the church?” he asked. “Are you unfamiliar with the hierarchy?”
Velox dropped his gaze to his boots. “I am not a part of your church. I was…called. The Lady spoke to me and revealed to me that She had a purpose for me, and that it would be revealed in time.”
Davrim’s eyes widened. “You’re an oracle? I never dreamed I would actually meet one!”
“I am not familiar with the term,” Velox said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “As I said, I am not a part of your church.”
The half-orc shook his head in disbelief. “You really don’t know what you are, do you? You are unique, my young friend. You are a gift! Truly if the two of us have found ourselves upon this same road, then it is a sign that this is where the Lady wants us to be, and that our mission is just!”
Further behind the two warriors, a pair of women also walked side-by-side, but as anyone could tell easily just by looking at them, the few feet of distance between them wasn’t all that separated them.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Selena said at length, “you don’t seem exactly…suited… to this sort of journey.”
The other woman looked at her coolly from beneath thick lashes and heavily applied mascara. As she reached up to push her carefully coiffed hair from her face, heavy gold bracelets jangled against her wrist.
“Oh?” she asked as she quirked one carefully plucked eyebrow. “And what, pray tell, do you think I’m ‘suited’ to be doing?”
Selena smirked. “Adorning the arm of some nobleman would be my guess. Did your husband send you along to pick out land for your summer estate?” She laughed harshly as she lifted the black viper coiled around her forearm to her lips for a quick kiss.
The other woman’s face wrinkled in disgust.
“Well, snake handling and fetishes aren’t my forte, to be sure,” she sneered as her eyes traveled over the eclectic garb of the witch, “but don’t underestimate me, sweetheart. My name’s Mox, by the way, and you’d do well to keep your opinions to yourself and stay out of my way.”
The oddest pair of the company brought up the rear. The dwarf was a sight in-and-of-himself. He wore rough, tanned animal skins, and his hair and beard were wild and unkempt, with bits of dirt and twigs caught up in the twisted mass. He carried a simple wooden cudgel belted at his waist. His companion was rustic as well, but carried himself with a calm that came from a lifetime of familiarity with his surroundings. He wore forest colors and a mottled cloak, a hunter’s bow slung over his back, and a sword at his hip. His face was weathered and tanned, but his youth showed through when he smiled as he glanced askance at the belching dwarf beside him.
“Tungdill, is it?” the ranger asked.
“Aye,” the dwarf grunted. “I’ll answer to it. What was yours again? I ain’t too good with names. People neither for that matter.”
“Stevhan,” the ranger replied, and extended his hand.
Tungdill grunted again as he shook it awkwardly.
“What do ya make of the rest of this crew?” he asked. “Look like a bunch of soft, city dwellers to me.” He spat a wad of gooey phlegm at his feet.
“I suppose,” Stevhan nodded, “but I’ve found that looks can be deceiving. For example, I would be inclined to think that most folk would underestimate you at first glance, but what I see is three-feet and a couple of hundred pounds of barely caged fury.”
Tungdill bellowed with laughter and slapped the ranger across the back with a meaty hand.
“I like you, boy!” he roared. “You and me is gonna get along just fine!”
_____________________________________________________________
Oleg’s Trading Post wasn’t much to look at. The old fort was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and at each corner stood an old watch tower, each armed with a decrepit and obviously non-functioning catapult. The double gates stood open, revealing an open yard surrounded by a stable, a guesthouse, and the main hall. The sound of hammering could be heard coming from the roof of the hall, and as the six companions entered the compound, a rosy-cheeked woman came bustling from the guest house, her broad smile beaming.
“You’ve come!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
Velox stepped forward and presented the charter to her.
“We’re here on the authority of the Swordlords, good lady,” he said, bowing.
“Oh yes,” she nodded, still smiling, “we’ve been expecting you! I’m Svetlana, and that’s my husband, Oleg.” She gestured towards the man up on the roof, who seemed to be taking his time putting away his tools and coming down the ladder. “They sent you to take care of our bandit problem!”
“Well…,” Stevhan hesitated, “our charter does give us authority to deal with banditry. Are you saying that you’ve had dealings with some?”
By that time, Oleg had joined them. He was a big, swarthy man with permanent frown lines etched between his brows. He took the charter from Svetlana and quickly scanned it, his scowl deepening, and his face reddening as he did so.
“Oh for the love of Erastil!” he shouted, tossing the parchment to the ground. “They aren’t the ones we asked for! They’re just a bunch of prospectors!”
He threw his hands in the air and stormed off.
“Forgive him,” Svetlana said quietly as she bent to retrieve the charter and perused it. “We have indeed been having bandit problems, and we sent word to Restov weeks ago requesting soldiers to help us. When we saw you coming, we thought our prayers had been answered.”
“Well, as my friend said,” Velox replied, “we have been granted authority to deal with bandits, and if you will pardon my bravado, it may be that we are better equipped to do so than the militia. Can you give us the details of your situation?”
Svetlana invited them inside the main hall, and sat with them around a long table while Oleg made himself busy behind the bar, studiously trying not to look like he was listening in.
“They first came three months ago, and threatened to burn down the post,” she began. “They also said that they would…take me…if we didn’t agree to hand over all of the furs and goods we’d accumulated over the previous month. Since then, they’ve returned twice more…each time at sunrise on the first day of the month…which is tomorrow.”
“How many of them are there?” Davrim asked.
“The first time they came,” Svetlana replied, “there were a dozen of them. Ten of them seemed like your typical riff-raff, but there was also a cloaked man who carried a longbow, and a woman who wore two small axes. It was she who did most of the talking.” Svetlana’s voice lowered. “The way she smiled when she said what would happen to me if we didn’t pay them…She seemed smarter than the cloaked man…and more dangerous. I think she was their leader. On the later visits, though, only the hooded man came. He had six men with him on the second trip, and only four on the last one. I guess they think they have us cowed. Maybe when they come tomorrow, there will be even fewer. Will you help us?”
“You needn’t ask,” Velox replied. “Do I speak for us all?” he looked around the table. One by one, his companions nodded.
From behind the counter, Oleg grunted. “We’ll see.”
______________________________________________________________
At dawn the next morning, four horsemen rode into the yard of the trading post. Their leader wore a hooded, grey cloak and carried a longbow over his shoulders.
“You’d best get your arses out here!” he shouted, rising in his stirrups. “I don’t like waiting, and if you make me, I’ll start tossing some fire in to speed you up!”
His three thuggish companions laughed coarsely, but Happs didn’t. Happs Bydon was a cruel man who’d turned to banditry after he was caught running a protection racket in Restov while also, at least in theory, serving as a soldier in the city guard. He fled the city when he learned the law was coming for him, abandoning a wife and two children to suffer the shame of his crimes. Absent of morals and conscience though he was, he was no fool, and he sensed immediately that something wasn’t right. His head whipped to the left as he caught a furtive movement in the stable from the corner of his eye.
“It’s a trap!” he screamed.
An arrow hissed through the air as the bunkhouse door behind the bandits slammed open. It sank into the flank of the rear rider. As he screamed and slipped from his horse, Davrim was already upon him, sweeping his greatsword from his back sheath as he came. The half-orc’s heavy blade never stopped, its deadly arc continuing down as it severed the brigand’s head from his shoulders. Happs turned in confusion and rage, sawing at the reins of his own mount as he fought to control it. A sudden flash of light from above and behind him caused him to spin reflexively in the opposite direction. He caught a brief glance of a tall woman dressed like a noble standing atop one of the watchtowers just as a bolt of blue fire struck him in the chest, and flung him from the saddle. He just managed to climb to his hands and knees when he saw the odd sight of a wild-eyed dwarf emerging from the stables. The little troll was chanting something and waving his hands about like some sort of witch-doctor. Before Happs knew whether to laugh or shout in rage, a small, black storm cloud appeared directly over his head, and a small bolt of lightning and tiny hail stones struck him about the head. He collapsed in a heap, unconscious.
The remaining bandits panicked. Their mounts tangled as they struggled to turn them towards the gate. Before they could get them disentangled, Velox had emerged from the stables behind Tungdill.
“Forgive them, father,” he muttered as he drove his blade through one man’s chest.
The last brigand dug his heels into his horse’s ribs, spurring it into a gallop. Just as he reached the gate, however, Stevhan knocked a second arrow and loosed in one smooth motion. The shaft took the fleeing man in the throat, and he was dead before he hit the ground.
____________________________________________________________
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!” Oleg laughed as he surveyed the carnage. “When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, and I’m not too proud to admit it.”
He stuck out one, meaty paw and Velox gripped it, nodding silently.
“You can consider my home yours now,” the trader said. “You’ll need a base camp if you’re dead set on exploring the Green Belt.”
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Velox replied. “I’m sure we’ll need all the help we can get in this wilderness, but aren’t you concerned that the friends of this rabble will come for revenge?”
“Maybe,” Oleg shrugged, “eventually, but they’re a bunch of cowards at heart. I think it’ll be awhile before they try anything. Maybe by that time the guards from Restov will be here. Besides, I plan on stringing up the bodies outside my wall. Let that be a warning to any other troublemakers that come sniffing around.”
“Is that really necessary?” Davrim growled.
“Justice has already been served,” Velox added. “Let the dead lie in peace.”
“Bah!” Oleg waved them off. “You’re not in Restov anymore. Your urban sensibilities will get you killed quick out here. You’ll learn in time, I suppose. Anyway, what’re you going to do with that one?”
Happs, bound hand-and-foot, was just coming around. The others stood around him in a menacing circle.
“You rubes don’t know what you’ve gotten yourselves into!” he spat. “When Kressle finds out about this, you’re all dead! And you two…” he grinned evilly at Oleg and Svetlana, “you’ll only wish you were dead by the time she gets through with you!”
“You need to calm down, little man,” Mox said smiling as she crouched down next to the bandit, “or I’ll have to have my less lady-like friend here,” she jerked her head towards Selena, “introduce you to her pet.”
Selena smiled wickedly as Sinister slithered out of her sleeve and onto Happs’s leg.
“No!” he screamed. “Not snakes! Anything but snakes! What!? What do you want from me!?”
“We want to know where your camp is,” Stevhan answered. “We want to know about this Kressle, and how many men she has there. Oh, and we also want to know about this stag head necklace you were wearing.”
“Alright! Alright!” Happs cried. “Just keep that snake away from me! The camp’s about thirty miles southwest of here, on the Thorn River! Kressle’s our leader, and she’s got about six or eight other guys still with her! She gave me the necklace, told me it meant I was her second. That’s all I know! I swear!”
“So he’s spilled his guts,” Oleg snorted. “Now what?”
“We were given the authority to deal out justice as we see fit,” Velox said, “but I’m not a murderer. You say the Restov soldiers should be arriving soon? Would you mind keeping an eye on our friend there until they arrive?”
Oleg’s toothy grin was positively wolf-like.
“It’d be my pleasure!”
_____________________________________________________________
WANTED!
Bandits, dead or alive!
By order of the Swordlords
For six or more bandits
Living or dead,
A reward of 400 gold crowns is offered!
WANTED!
The Sootscale kobolds are in turmoil!
They pose a threat to any civilized undertakings in the Green Belt!
Slay them all, or make peace with them!
The Swordlords offer a reward of 800 gold crowns!
WANTED!
One Tatzylwyrm head!
See Oleg for details.
Reward of 600 gold crowns is offered!
WANTED!
Tuskgutter!
Bring the great boar’s head to Vekkel Benzen!
Excellent bow with six magic arrows offered,
As well as a share in some wonderful head cheese!
The bounty board inside Oleg’s post looked to offer plenty of opportunities for a group of intrepid explorers. Stevhan carefully detached and folded each of the flyers before tucking them neatly into his cloak. You never knew when a few extra coins in your pocket might make the difference between life and death. The ranger then wandered back over to where his companions were discussing their next course of action.
“So it’s decided then?” Velox was saying. “We head for the Thorn River and try to find the bandits’ camp?”
“It’s part of our charter,” Davrim shrugged. “We kill two birds with one stone by exploring the territory between here and there, and then ridding the area of those murderers.”
“Suits me,” Tungdill nodded, food from his beard spilling on the table as he did so. “They’re a blight, and the only way to get rid of a blight is to pull it out by the roots.”
Selena stroked her snake absently. “The dwarf is right,” she said. “Personally, I don’t particularly care if the brigands are a threat to the so-called civilized folk, but they’re poison to the land itself.”
“Your compassion is beyond touching,” Mox smirked. “Count me in.”
“So be it,” Velox finished. “We’ll set out in the morning then.”
“If you’re hells-bent on taking them on,” Oleg interrupted, “might I ask one more favor of you lads and ladies? The first time the bums came here, that bitch who was leading them took Svetlana’s wedding ring. She acts like it’s no big deal, but I know how much it meant to her. If you happen to come across it in their camp, I’d be grateful if you could return it to her.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Velox replied. “If it’s there, we’ll find it.”
______________________________________________________________
The following morning, as the companions packed up their gear on the four horses they’d taken from Happs and his boys, Svetlana approached them with her own request.
“You might not have noticed,” she smiled demurely, “but Oleg’s been under quite a bit of stress lately.”
“You don’t say,” Tungdill snorted.
“Well,” she continued, “I’d love nothing more than to be able to cheer him up by making him his favorite meal…moon radish soup! The problem is, though, moon radishes are pretty scarce in these parts. I do know of a patch that grows a day’s ride south of here. If you’re heading for the Thorn River, it would be on your way. If you find some, could you gather a basket for me?”
Selena rolled her eyes, but Velox nodded politely.
“It would be our pleasure, my lady,” he said.
They set out before the sun was fully above the horizon. Tungdill and Selena rode double, as did Mox and Stevhan, while Davrim and Velox, being the largest, each had their own mount. The first day’s travel out of Oleg’s was a largely uneventful trek across the verdant grasslands of the Green Belt. By the next morning, however, they had reached the edge of the Narlmarches, the vast forest that stretched south and west across the Stolen Lands. The trees were dense, and consisted of oaks, beech and rushleaf, but they were crisscrossed with game trails and clearings which made the going somewhat easier. As the group approached one such clearing, they began to hear odd, moaning sounds coming from directly ahead. Quietly, they dismounted and crept as stealthily as they could through the undergrowth. Stevhan carefully parted the branches and peered through. What he saw struck him as simultaneously surreal and comical. Four, small reptilian creatures lay sprawled on their backs, their bellies round and bloated. Scattered about them lay dozens of half-eaten radishes.
“I think we found Svetlana’s radish patch,” he whispered to his companions, “but it looks like somebody else got here first.”
The others snickered as they saw the odd sight.
“Kobolds,” Selena said. “Weak, cowardly. They’ll probably flee at the sight of us.”
The six of them stepped into the clearing, Stevhan clearing his throat as they did so. The kobolds squeaked and scrambled to their feet, grabbing their spears that lay beside them.
“Can you speak to them?” Stevhan turned to Selena and asked.
“Watch out!” she shouted in warning.
The ranger spun, crouching low and drawing his sword reflexively as he did so. The kobolds were charging. Cursing, he lunged forward and drove his blade through the belly of the first one. The twang of Davrim’s bow sounded from behind him as an arrow embedded itself in the eye of the second. Stevhan was up and moving before the first two bodies hit the ground. He swept his blade wide in front of him and disemboweled the third, but before he could turn his attention to the last kobold, a small clap of thunder pealed above him. When he looked up, he saw the same miniature thunderhead Tungdill had summoned against the bandits. A small lightning bolt forked out and struck the kobold in the chest. It grunted weakly as its eyes rolled back into its head, and it crumpled.
_____________________________________________________________
“It’s a shame we had to kill most of them,” Stevhan said as he showed the others the flyer he’d taken from Oleg. “They might have been able to tell us something about their tribe.”
“This one’s waking up,” Tungdill said, nudging the groaning kobold with the toe of his boot. “Maybe the witch’s snake can loosen his tongue.”
Selena shrugged. “How about I just ask him first?”
She knelt down next to the wide-eyed creature, and thought she spoke in a soft voice, the language she used was harsh and sibilant.
“Are you of the Sootscale tribe?” she asked.
“Sootscale’s are mighty!” the little reptile shrieked. “Not afraid of big folk!”
“I’m sure,” Selena smiled. “How many of you are there?”
The kobold wrinkled his forehead. “More than two,” he replied, nodding defiantly.
“Tell him we’ll let him go,” Velox said. “Tell him we want to make peace with his people, and to tell them we were merciful.”
Selena relayed the message, and the kobold leaped to his feet and darted for the trees, casting a fearful glance back over his shoulder as he ran.
______________________________________________________________
“Here,” Stevhan said from where he crouched by the banks of a swift flowing river. “There are hoof prints in the mud. They’re several days old, but I can still track them.”
He mounted up again, and the companions continued along the forest trail, albeit at a stealthier pace. A short time later, Stevhan held up a hand silently, bringing them to a halt. He pointed ahead to where the trees thinned into a small clearing. At the far side stood a wagon, a metallic glint shining from its bed. The ranger’s eyes began flickering through the trees until they finally settled on a fallen log about fifty paces away. He was just opening his mouth to warn his companions when he heard a sharp, whistling sound as something small and round landed in their midst…a stone of some sort. A moment later it exploded with a deafening thunderclap of sound.
Chaos broke loose around the group. Stevhan and Tungdill’s ears rang with a dull roar in the wake of the explosion. The horse that the dwarf and Selena were riding reared and bolted, throwing the pair from the saddle. Davrim’s horse lunged away as well, but the half-orc was able to land on his feet as he hastily dismounted the panicked animal. Stevhan and Velox spurred their own mounts forward, towards the brigand who was now fleeing from behind the log towards the shelter of the trees. Velox reached him first, his horse leaping the log easily. The young oracle heard his father’s voice fill his ears as the spirit of the Lady overwhelmed him. He cut down the running man, then whirled his mount round as he heard a chorus of hoarse shouts from the trees to his left. There, a half-dozen more bandits appeared, bows in their hands and arrows knocked. Behind them, a woman dressed in leathers and carrying a gleaming axe in each hand barked orders in their ears. In an instant, the brigands let fly with a volley. One of them struck Mox, but she rolled with the impact, dismounting her horse as if she were born to the saddle and landing deftly on her feet in a crouch, clutching at the shaft protruding from her shoulder. Her face clenched in pain, she paid no attention to the ravening group of bandits. Instead, she scanned the trees nearby. That’s where the thunderstone had come from. Then she saw him, hunkered down on a small platform amid the thick branches of an oak.
Tungdill and Selena climbed to their feet, bruised, but no worse for wear. In fact, their prone positions were probably all that had saved them from being impaled by stray arrows. When the dwarf saw the clustered bandits, a broad smile split his scraggly face.
“Gotcha just where I want ya!” he crowed.
He pulled what looked like a chicken’s foot from his pocket and began muttering under his breath as he scratched at the ground with it.
“I don’t believe what I’m seeing!” Selena exclaimed in disbelief as she saw the results of the druid’s casting.
The vines, grass, and underbrush around the bandits suddenly came to writhing life, wrapping around their feet and legs with grasping tendrils. They cursed roundly as they struggled to free themselves, but unfortunately for Tungdill, his actions had also caught the attention of the bandits’ leader.
“Kill the dwarf!” she shouted.
Momentarily ignoring their entanglement, her men turned towards the druid and let fly with another salvo. Three arrows struck Tungdill, two in the chest, and the third in his thigh. With a grunt, he fell heavily into the brush.
Kressle was having a grand time! The leader of the brigands had banditry in her blood. Born in the River Kingdoms, throughout her life she had never spent more than a week in one spot. Even as a child she was already helping her parents rob travelers and rough up pilgrims for some quick cash. When her parents were killed after an ambush, she headed north to seek her fortune, only to end up being captured by a group of bandits herself. When two of them lost hands and fingers to her axes, however, their thoughts turned from rape to escape. Kressle followed the wounded ruffians back to their fort. Their leader, impressed by her skill and bravery, slew her attackers and recruited her on the spot. She moved up the ranks in a matter of months, until the boss sent her to run the Thorn River camp. She knew when that idiot Happs failed to return from the trading post, that it would only be a matter of time before she’d have to deal with whomever’d done him in. She was just glad they’d saved her the trouble of hunting them down.
“Let’s take it to’em, boys!” she hooted as she tore her feet free of the writhing undergrowth.
Davrim turned towards the approaching bandits, swinging his sword in broad loops as he waited for them to reach the edge of the spell Tungdill had cast. He quickly realized his mistake as he saw one of the bandits come to a halt not ten paces away as he drew a bead on the big half-orc with his bow. Davrim tried to duck, but he was too slow, and the arrow smacked meatily into his backside. Stevhan moved to go to Davrim’s side, but when he looked back at Tungdill, he was torn. He didn’t know if the dwarf was dead or alive, and before he could make up his mind, two of the outlaws had freed themselves from the entanglement and stood between him and Davrim. The ranger slid from his horse, for he was not accustomed to fighting from a saddle. As he did so, however, the two men rushed him. He spun like a snake and parried the first blow, but the second slipped beneath his blade and gouged across his ribs. Hissing in pain, he swung his sword backhanded and slashed the throat of the nearest brigand.
Mox still played cat-and-mouse with the brigand crouched in the tree. She darted quickly among the tree trunks as arrows thunked into the boles around her. Finally, she reached a spot where she had a clear view of the brigand. He turned as he saw her, pulling his bowstring all the way back to his jaw. Mox quickly brought her hands up and spoke a word. A streaking blue projectile flew from her fingers and struck the bandit in the forehead just as his fingers prepared to release his arrow. He tumbled from the tree as if pole-axed, and struck the ground fifteen-feet below with a sickening crunch.
Davrim was surrounded. Four of the brigands had freed themselves and flanked him on all sides, jabbing and feinting with their swords. As he turned this way and that, trying to deflect the blows, one penetrated his defenses, stabbing into his knee. His leg began to buckle, yet he struck out with a cry of rage, disemboweling his nearest assailant. He brought his sword up defensively, trying to ward off what he knew was his eminent death, and then he heard her cry. Kressle rushed at him, her axes crossed over her chest. She swung one with deadly efficiency, slicing the half-orc’s hamstring and sweeping him completely off his feet. As she stood over him, poised for the kill, Davrim heard thundering hooves approaching. He and the bandit leader turned at the same time to see Velox bearing down on them. The oracle leaped from the saddle at the last minute, driving his sword into the chest of one of the brigands as he landed. As he rolled to his feet, however, Kressle was on him. He caught one of her descending axes on the guard of his blade, but the other hacked into his shoulder.
“Still alive, I see,” Selena smiled down at Tungdill.
“I’m tougher than I look,” the dwarf wheezed.
“Looks like our friends may be in some trouble,” the witch observed. “Will you be ok if I leave you?”
“I’ve done pretty good on my own for a long time,” Tungdill chuckled weakly. “I s’pose I’ll make it a few minutes longer.”
Selena nodded and ghosted away through the trees. As she departed, the injured druid began another chant, and as he did so, a dense mist rose from the ground around him, enveloping him in its concealing layers.
Selena moved quickly, passing Stevhan just as he dispatched his last opponent. She approached the spot where Velox and Davrim still fought for their lives, and saw it was only a matter of time before they were overpowered. Velox had drawn blood on the female bandit, but she still fought like a dervish. Her last two surviving men both looked hale and hearty. Selena stopped several paces away and drew a strand of beads and feathers from her bodice. She focused her thoughts and raised both hands, her fingers forked in the sign of the Eye. The two bandits turned towards her, their gazes unfocusing. In unison, they swooned and fell to the ground, sound asleep and snoring. Kressle gaped in rage and surprise, and in that moment when she dropped her defenses, Velox struck, burying his sword to the hilt in her chest.
Sometime later, when the sleeping bandits awoke and found Kressle dead, and themselves surrounded by six very unhappy looking characters, they immediately, and wisely, surrendered.
JollyDoc
Explorer
SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER (on Monday)
1) Sometimes bandits are more valuable alive than dead, as the explorers learn when they question their captives about their boss...someone the group feels they are some time away from being capable of facing.
2) A long forgotten temple is discovered...along with its very strange guardian
3) The dangers of the Green Belt don't just lie in bandits. Sometimes the occasional, hungry predator wanders into camp. Tungdill plays hero as he faces off against an owlbear with nothing more than a stick...
4) Playful faeries aren't on the list of potential allies.
5) Someon's killing trappers...and some disreputable trapper is laying some very deadly traps
6) A return to Oleg's finds new visitors, and new quests offered.
1) Sometimes bandits are more valuable alive than dead, as the explorers learn when they question their captives about their boss...someone the group feels they are some time away from being capable of facing.
2) A long forgotten temple is discovered...along with its very strange guardian
3) The dangers of the Green Belt don't just lie in bandits. Sometimes the occasional, hungry predator wanders into camp. Tungdill plays hero as he faces off against an owlbear with nothing more than a stick...
4) Playful faeries aren't on the list of potential allies.
5) Someon's killing trappers...and some disreputable trapper is laying some very deadly traps
6) A return to Oleg's finds new visitors, and new quests offered.
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