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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4278834" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Prologue, Part 2</p><p></p><p></p><p>Kevan grabbed Zelos before he could fall, dragging the crippled mage into the shelter of the rotted log on the side of the road. As both men all but fell into the shallow cover, Jayse could see that there was a bolt jutting from the cleric’s leg, a few inches above his left knee.</p><p></p><p>Another bolt thudded into the dirt between the halfling’s legs; that was enough to propel him into action. He leaped forward and dove forward, into the cover of the rotten log. A bolt narrowly missed him, its steel head slicing through his trousers and leaving a slight stinging sensation in its passage. Jayse risked a quick look out from behind the log, darting back into cover before his movements could draw another shot. </p><p></p><p>The sniping seemed to be coming from further up the hillside, where the archers were apparently quite well hidden, as he saw nothing other than bushes and trees. </p><p></p><p>He glanced up the road toward the warriors, and saw that the dwarf and dragonborn knight had their own problems. A small group of enemies had emerged from around the bend up ahead, and were coming steadily closer. The group included three humans and four goblins, all heavily armed and armored. The men were big, taller even than Zelos, but it was the smallest of the three that drew Jayse’s eyes. That one’s eyes were shaded within a helmet decorated to look like an animal’s skull, but somehow the halfling could feel the man’s stare brushing against his, and it sent a cold dagger of fear into his innards. K’thar had rushed to engage that one, but the other two men—each almost as large as the knight, and armed with huge axes—moved to block him. Marak had engaged the goblins, who were darting in and around him, trying to get in a hit through the protective scales of his armor. </p><p></p><p>A soft chanting from Kevan drew his attention back to their more immediate situation. The cleric had wrapped his hands around the unconscious wizard’s neck, and a blue glow was shining between his bloody fingers. Jayse remembered how the priest had healed the wound he’d taken in the fight with the kobolds, but he hadn’t been as critically hurt as the wizard had been. Ahlen Zelos’s eyes popped open, and he drew in a startled breath as the healing magic repaired the grievous injury to his throat. Another bolt thudded into the log, its head bursting through the rotten wood a foot from the cleric’s head, but the half-elf did not flinch. </p><p></p><p>“There’s a group of goblins and men, down the road,” Jayse told him. “Marak and K’thar are facing them, but there’s seven of them.” </p><p></p><p>The cleric nodded calmly. “I will be just a moment.” He closed his eyes for a second and touched his sigil, as if drawing upon some reserve of power. Jayse felt a sudden sense of well-being touch him through the fear that had come with the start of the ambush. Zelos, fully conscious now, started to get up, but Kevan held him by the shoulders, keeping him under the cover of the log. </p><p></p><p>“I guess I’d better see if I can distract those archers,” Jayse said, drawing one of his daggers. His leg barely hurt any more, but he wasn’t looking forward to stepping out from the shelter of the log. He rose to a crouch, preparing to dart out of cover, already thinking of the best way to get up the hill without getting shot full of bolts. </p><p></p><p>As he did, he caught sight of what was coming up the road behind them. He hissed a warning.</p><p></p><p>Kevan heard and turned his head. Five more goblin warriors were closing in, almost casual in their advance. Their leader was a fat brute, his gut bulging out from under his armor, but he looked no less dangerous for it as he lifted a big club and pointed it at the three of them in their tenuous cover. </p><p></p><p>“I will teach them the folly of their actions,” Zelos said, his voice still rasping painfully in his throat. He lifted a hand and summoned his magic. A burst of fire erupted from his fingertips, which he launched at the onrushing goblins. The <em>scorching burst</em> would have hurt several had it connected, but the two goblins in the front rank dodged nimbly aside, and the flames shot harmlessly between them. They lifted their javelins, chattering excitedly in their raucus language, but it was clear that facing a mage gave them pause. </p><p></p><p>Jayse lifted a dagger to throw, but Kevan stopped him, putting a hand on his. “You have to get back to Winterhaven, warn them about what’s here,” the cleric said. Kevan had pulled out the other bolt from the wizard's shoulder during the healing, and still held it, the red fletchings catching Jayse’s eye. The snipers up the hill to their left had stopped shooting, perhaps wary of risking hitting their allies, but Jayse could hear the sounds of battle from up the road, indicating that Marak and K’thar had joined battle. He didn’t have to look to know that the odds there were as bad as they were up here. </p><p></p><p>Kevan still held him with his eyes; the cleric even managed to smile slightly. “Go.” He said. “We all have our duty.” He dropped the bloody bolt and hefted his mace as the goblins hurled their missiles and charged toward their position. He deflected a javelin with his shield, and several others shot past them, quivering as they stuck in the rotten log or flew overhead to shatter on the rocks of the hillside beyond. The goblin leader lifted a crossbow and shot Zelos in the side, the impact of the bolt knocking the mage hard back against the log. The goblin warriors lifted their spears and charged in the wake of their attack, and Kevan rose to meet them, springing to his feet with a roar that invoked his patron god. He flinched as a bolt streaked down and caught him in the back, piercing him through his armor, but he still met the first goblin with an invocation of power, knocking the foe back a step, clutching his eyes against the power of the half-elf’s <em>healing strike</em>. Kevan channeled the backlash of that release of power into Zelos, easing the hurt of his latest wound, but it was clear that the mage’s grasp on consciousness was tenuous at best. </p><p></p><p>Jayse did not hesitate any more, although his heart pounded as he leapt up and ran across the road. One of the goblin warriors tried to cut him off, but as the creature lunged he abruptly spun and shot out his leg. The goblin, unable to change its momentum, stumbled and flew headlong into the tangled brush at the side of the road, cursing in its guttural language as it fought to extricate itself. Another bolt whizzed past, but Jayse was already running again, darting into the cover of the trees. He heard a sound of exploding flames behind him, accompanied by goblin screams, but his full attention was on dodging the low-hanging branches and gnarled roots that filled the forest around him. </p><p></p><p>He only paused once, at the top of a low rise that gave him a chance to look back at the road. Leaning against a tree, his view partially obscured by the trunks between him and the road, what he saw caused his gut to clench. K’thar was lying in a pool of slowly spreading blood in the middle of the road. Both of the human berserkers were crouched nearby, obviously wounded but in far better shape than the fallen paladin. Marak lay against the bole of a tree at the side of the road, wounded but conscious, disarmed and guarded by a pair of goblin warriors. A goblin lay on his back near the rotting log, but Jayse saw Kevan, on his knees, securely held in the grasp of several other goblins. Blood covered the half-elf’s face from a wound to his scalp, but he was able to look up as the enemy priest, the one who’d caused Jayse such a thrill of fear when they’d locked eyes, approached. He didn’t see any sign of Zelos. </p><p></p><p>Jayse knew that his position was precarious, but he felt bound to the tree, as though it was the only thing keeping him from falling over. He could only watch helplessly as the two men exchanged words. He was too far away to hear what was being said, but he clearly saw the evil cleric make a slight motion with his hand, and just as clearly saw the fat goblin smash his club into the back of Kevan’s neck. The cleric’s body went limp, and the goblin kicked the priest in the back, knocking him forward to lay sprawled out upon the road. </p><p></p><p>The halfling heard the warning hiss too late as a crossbow bolt slammed into the tree trunk, its steel head pinching the flesh of his elbow against the wood. It penetrated through the arm of his coat, pinning him to the tree. Jayse barely felt the pain as he struggled to free himself. His efforts gained urgency as he caught sight of several small, dark forms moving through the undergrowth toward his position, closing in from the left and the right. Finally he gave up and slid out of the coat, tearing his skin more as he pulled free, and ran. He clutched his wounded arm to his side, feeling sticky blood running down to his wrist, over his fingers, finally dropping onto the forest floor to mark his path.</p><p></p><p>Naught to be done for it now; he grimaced and kept on running. He wove between the trunks, taking a roundabout route that would eventually lead him back to the road. Goblins were tough little bastards, and could keep after him for quite some time, but he knew these woods, and he and his brother had hunted in them almost since they’d been old enough to hold a bow. </p><p></p><p>He glanced back now and again, but did not see further signs of pursuit. He did not stop again, but pulled out his kerchief as he ran, tucking it up his sleeve to slow the bleeding of his injured arm. No sense in making it <em>too</em> easy for them. </p><p></p><p>He reached the top of a steep incline that was negotiable by a wide culvert filled with weathered stones, the course of one of the many seasonal and temporary streams fed by the spring rains. It offered the best route down, and he made it quickly, jumping from rock to rock with ease despite his throbbing arm. He was getting his second wind, but it was a long way to go to Winterhaven, especially with goblins on his trail. </p><p></p><p>At the bottom of the culvert, he came up short as a figure appeared suddenly in front of him. His eyes widened at the sight of her. “What are <em>you</em> doing here?” he blurted out.</p><p></p><p>“I thought you and your friends might have a bit of trouble,” she said. Her eyes lifted above him, back up toward the top of the culvert, sharpening. “Look out!” she warned, lifting her bow and drawing the readied arrow back to her cheek in a smooth, practiced motion. </p><p></p><p>Jayse spun, looking for goblins. He saw nothing, and realized his mistake too late as a terrible pain blossomed in his back. He staggered forward, a dagger fumbling from his fingers, and fell to his knees. His last thought was that he’d never get to pay his brother back for the pony he’d borrowed from him, and then he was falling forward, and then... nothing.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4278834, member: 143"] Prologue, Part 2 Kevan grabbed Zelos before he could fall, dragging the crippled mage into the shelter of the rotted log on the side of the road. As both men all but fell into the shallow cover, Jayse could see that there was a bolt jutting from the cleric’s leg, a few inches above his left knee. Another bolt thudded into the dirt between the halfling’s legs; that was enough to propel him into action. He leaped forward and dove forward, into the cover of the rotten log. A bolt narrowly missed him, its steel head slicing through his trousers and leaving a slight stinging sensation in its passage. Jayse risked a quick look out from behind the log, darting back into cover before his movements could draw another shot. The sniping seemed to be coming from further up the hillside, where the archers were apparently quite well hidden, as he saw nothing other than bushes and trees. He glanced up the road toward the warriors, and saw that the dwarf and dragonborn knight had their own problems. A small group of enemies had emerged from around the bend up ahead, and were coming steadily closer. The group included three humans and four goblins, all heavily armed and armored. The men were big, taller even than Zelos, but it was the smallest of the three that drew Jayse’s eyes. That one’s eyes were shaded within a helmet decorated to look like an animal’s skull, but somehow the halfling could feel the man’s stare brushing against his, and it sent a cold dagger of fear into his innards. K’thar had rushed to engage that one, but the other two men—each almost as large as the knight, and armed with huge axes—moved to block him. Marak had engaged the goblins, who were darting in and around him, trying to get in a hit through the protective scales of his armor. A soft chanting from Kevan drew his attention back to their more immediate situation. The cleric had wrapped his hands around the unconscious wizard’s neck, and a blue glow was shining between his bloody fingers. Jayse remembered how the priest had healed the wound he’d taken in the fight with the kobolds, but he hadn’t been as critically hurt as the wizard had been. Ahlen Zelos’s eyes popped open, and he drew in a startled breath as the healing magic repaired the grievous injury to his throat. Another bolt thudded into the log, its head bursting through the rotten wood a foot from the cleric’s head, but the half-elf did not flinch. “There’s a group of goblins and men, down the road,” Jayse told him. “Marak and K’thar are facing them, but there’s seven of them.” The cleric nodded calmly. “I will be just a moment.” He closed his eyes for a second and touched his sigil, as if drawing upon some reserve of power. Jayse felt a sudden sense of well-being touch him through the fear that had come with the start of the ambush. Zelos, fully conscious now, started to get up, but Kevan held him by the shoulders, keeping him under the cover of the log. “I guess I’d better see if I can distract those archers,” Jayse said, drawing one of his daggers. His leg barely hurt any more, but he wasn’t looking forward to stepping out from the shelter of the log. He rose to a crouch, preparing to dart out of cover, already thinking of the best way to get up the hill without getting shot full of bolts. As he did, he caught sight of what was coming up the road behind them. He hissed a warning. Kevan heard and turned his head. Five more goblin warriors were closing in, almost casual in their advance. Their leader was a fat brute, his gut bulging out from under his armor, but he looked no less dangerous for it as he lifted a big club and pointed it at the three of them in their tenuous cover. “I will teach them the folly of their actions,” Zelos said, his voice still rasping painfully in his throat. He lifted a hand and summoned his magic. A burst of fire erupted from his fingertips, which he launched at the onrushing goblins. The [i]scorching burst[/i] would have hurt several had it connected, but the two goblins in the front rank dodged nimbly aside, and the flames shot harmlessly between them. They lifted their javelins, chattering excitedly in their raucus language, but it was clear that facing a mage gave them pause. Jayse lifted a dagger to throw, but Kevan stopped him, putting a hand on his. “You have to get back to Winterhaven, warn them about what’s here,” the cleric said. Kevan had pulled out the other bolt from the wizard's shoulder during the healing, and still held it, the red fletchings catching Jayse’s eye. The snipers up the hill to their left had stopped shooting, perhaps wary of risking hitting their allies, but Jayse could hear the sounds of battle from up the road, indicating that Marak and K’thar had joined battle. He didn’t have to look to know that the odds there were as bad as they were up here. Kevan still held him with his eyes; the cleric even managed to smile slightly. “Go.” He said. “We all have our duty.” He dropped the bloody bolt and hefted his mace as the goblins hurled their missiles and charged toward their position. He deflected a javelin with his shield, and several others shot past them, quivering as they stuck in the rotten log or flew overhead to shatter on the rocks of the hillside beyond. The goblin leader lifted a crossbow and shot Zelos in the side, the impact of the bolt knocking the mage hard back against the log. The goblin warriors lifted their spears and charged in the wake of their attack, and Kevan rose to meet them, springing to his feet with a roar that invoked his patron god. He flinched as a bolt streaked down and caught him in the back, piercing him through his armor, but he still met the first goblin with an invocation of power, knocking the foe back a step, clutching his eyes against the power of the half-elf’s [i]healing strike[/i]. Kevan channeled the backlash of that release of power into Zelos, easing the hurt of his latest wound, but it was clear that the mage’s grasp on consciousness was tenuous at best. Jayse did not hesitate any more, although his heart pounded as he leapt up and ran across the road. One of the goblin warriors tried to cut him off, but as the creature lunged he abruptly spun and shot out his leg. The goblin, unable to change its momentum, stumbled and flew headlong into the tangled brush at the side of the road, cursing in its guttural language as it fought to extricate itself. Another bolt whizzed past, but Jayse was already running again, darting into the cover of the trees. He heard a sound of exploding flames behind him, accompanied by goblin screams, but his full attention was on dodging the low-hanging branches and gnarled roots that filled the forest around him. He only paused once, at the top of a low rise that gave him a chance to look back at the road. Leaning against a tree, his view partially obscured by the trunks between him and the road, what he saw caused his gut to clench. K’thar was lying in a pool of slowly spreading blood in the middle of the road. Both of the human berserkers were crouched nearby, obviously wounded but in far better shape than the fallen paladin. Marak lay against the bole of a tree at the side of the road, wounded but conscious, disarmed and guarded by a pair of goblin warriors. A goblin lay on his back near the rotting log, but Jayse saw Kevan, on his knees, securely held in the grasp of several other goblins. Blood covered the half-elf’s face from a wound to his scalp, but he was able to look up as the enemy priest, the one who’d caused Jayse such a thrill of fear when they’d locked eyes, approached. He didn’t see any sign of Zelos. Jayse knew that his position was precarious, but he felt bound to the tree, as though it was the only thing keeping him from falling over. He could only watch helplessly as the two men exchanged words. He was too far away to hear what was being said, but he clearly saw the evil cleric make a slight motion with his hand, and just as clearly saw the fat goblin smash his club into the back of Kevan’s neck. The cleric’s body went limp, and the goblin kicked the priest in the back, knocking him forward to lay sprawled out upon the road. The halfling heard the warning hiss too late as a crossbow bolt slammed into the tree trunk, its steel head pinching the flesh of his elbow against the wood. It penetrated through the arm of his coat, pinning him to the tree. Jayse barely felt the pain as he struggled to free himself. His efforts gained urgency as he caught sight of several small, dark forms moving through the undergrowth toward his position, closing in from the left and the right. Finally he gave up and slid out of the coat, tearing his skin more as he pulled free, and ran. He clutched his wounded arm to his side, feeling sticky blood running down to his wrist, over his fingers, finally dropping onto the forest floor to mark his path. Naught to be done for it now; he grimaced and kept on running. He wove between the trunks, taking a roundabout route that would eventually lead him back to the road. Goblins were tough little bastards, and could keep after him for quite some time, but he knew these woods, and he and his brother had hunted in them almost since they’d been old enough to hold a bow. He glanced back now and again, but did not see further signs of pursuit. He did not stop again, but pulled out his kerchief as he ran, tucking it up his sleeve to slow the bleeding of his injured arm. No sense in making it [i]too[/i] easy for them. He reached the top of a steep incline that was negotiable by a wide culvert filled with weathered stones, the course of one of the many seasonal and temporary streams fed by the spring rains. It offered the best route down, and he made it quickly, jumping from rock to rock with ease despite his throbbing arm. He was getting his second wind, but it was a long way to go to Winterhaven, especially with goblins on his trail. At the bottom of the culvert, he came up short as a figure appeared suddenly in front of him. His eyes widened at the sight of her. “What are [i]you[/i] doing here?” he blurted out. “I thought you and your friends might have a bit of trouble,” she said. Her eyes lifted above him, back up toward the top of the culvert, sharpening. “Look out!” she warned, lifting her bow and drawing the readied arrow back to her cheek in a smooth, practiced motion. Jayse spun, looking for goblins. He saw nothing, and realized his mistake too late as a terrible pain blossomed in his back. He staggered forward, a dagger fumbling from his fingers, and fell to his knees. His last thought was that he’d never get to pay his brother back for the pony he’d borrowed from him, and then he was falling forward, and then... nothing. [/QUOTE]
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