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Shadows of Malboria (The Chronicle of Kurgish -updtd 11/09/05)
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<blockquote data-quote="Sir Brennen" data-source="post: 2033576" data-attributes="member: 553"><p><strong>April 13th, 998</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Wheat"><span style="font-size: 22px">I</span></span>n the morning we traveled on toward Stonehearth. It was a clear day and easy to find our way, even so far from the road. Eventually we came on a river, presumably the same one that the bridge on the fork crossed. Below us was a ford where the steep cliffs had crumbled somewhat into the water, and further down we could see signs of a village. Descending to the bank, we crossed the river and soon found ourselves in the sleepy human town of <strong>Ash Lane.</strong> </p><p></p><p>There was a church of Alioth, the new god, in the village, as well as a constable's station and an inn. I went to check the stables while the rest discussed what to do with our prisoner. I wanted to make sure our pursuers had not arrived in the town ahead of us. There was no sign of the black stallion, so I joined up with the others again at the inn. </p><p></p><p>Handel's body was at the church and the prisoner was in the jail. Word was to be sent if he woke. Barrick commented that we should remember Ash Lane as the "village of helpful people." What little other information gathered was that a <strong>Lord Dansforth</strong> lived in the manse above the village next to a ruined keep, and that the church was run by a Father<strong> Dornan</strong>.</p><p></p><p>We had also sold the prisoner's horse in exchange for a <strong>pack pony</strong>, with <strong>thirty gold</strong> to boot. The priest - "Al," as he liked to be called - engaged us in a game of cards for beer. The human brew was weak and watery, but it helped me relax a bit after our long day's walk. With our windfall of gold, we all rented private rooms when we were ready to retire. In the morning, we planned on checking the prisoner and seeing to the burial of Handel.</p><p></p><p>Sometime in the night, a sound from the far end of the hall woke me. I listened a moment, then heard Barrick shouting something. Grabbing my urgrosh, I threw open my door and jumped out into the narrow hallway. In hindsight I realized that the door should have still been locked.</p><p></p><p>Standing in the middle of the hall was the she-elf. She had already stabbed Barrick with a spear, and when he tried to maneuver past the deadly bladetip, she struck him with her bare hand hard enough that he flinched back in pain. </p><p></p><p>Coming up the stairs behind them, one of the gray men appeared, wielding a pistol. I shouted a warning to everyone as I rushed at the elf, who struck at both of we dwarves with lightning speed with her spear, barely missing us both. Barrick jumped back into his room to retrieve a better weapon. The elf turned and gave me a quick assessing look, then made a fluid retreat into the open doorway of Marcus and Charlotte’s room. Something about her dark, colorless features stirred something in my memory, stories from childhood. She was a <strong>Shadow Elf</strong>!</p><p></p><p>The whir of a lead ball spinning past my head broke my reverie. The gray man was still trying to judge the effectiveness of his shot through the smoky blastpowder cloud when I charged him. Just as I caught a glimpse of the priest peering from his room, the haft of the elf's spear struck me solidly from the next doorway. Stumbling, I still managed to get a glancing blow against the shootist. He pulled out a thin blade, a scoundrel's weapon, and we were engaged.</p><p></p><p>As we fought, loud sounds were coming from the siblings' room; the knock of wooded weapons, furniture crashing, glass breaking. Barrick appeared at the doorway, rejoining the fight.</p><p></p><p>Seeming to hear some silent command, the gray man broke off and ran down the stairs. I decided not to give chase, and moved to the room where the rest of the battle was taking place. Everyone had stopped fighting, staring out of an open window, with no sign of the Shadow Elf or her companions. She had indeed tried to take the clock, but Marcus had protected it with a quick bit of furniture re-arrangement.</p><p></p><p>We shared our observations from the encounter, and Marcus told us what he knew of the clock's maker. Even though the clock had been checked for magic, my suggestion of winding it to see if it did anything special was soundly rejected. Barrik even went as far as suggesting it might be easier to sell it for parts and scrap, making it useless to the shadow elf and her companions.</p><p></p><p>After Aleator tended to our wounds, we all retired to our beds.</p><p></p><p>Now as I sit here penning this new chapter in my quest, I am stuck by a sudden ill feeling. If all of our rooms were so easily unlocked, how difficult will it be for our gray captive to escape this hamlet's jail? Or for those that attacked us to break him out? </p><p></p><p>The sun is almost up. I will see who else of my fellow sojourners is an early riser and head down to the constable's (what was his name? <strong>Bergen</strong>?) and see if he still lives.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sir Brennen, post: 2033576, member: 553"] [b]April 13th, 998[/b] [color=Wheat][size=6]I[/size][/color]n the morning we traveled on toward Stonehearth. It was a clear day and easy to find our way, even so far from the road. Eventually we came on a river, presumably the same one that the bridge on the fork crossed. Below us was a ford where the steep cliffs had crumbled somewhat into the water, and further down we could see signs of a village. Descending to the bank, we crossed the river and soon found ourselves in the sleepy human town of [b]Ash Lane.[/b] There was a church of Alioth, the new god, in the village, as well as a constable's station and an inn. I went to check the stables while the rest discussed what to do with our prisoner. I wanted to make sure our pursuers had not arrived in the town ahead of us. There was no sign of the black stallion, so I joined up with the others again at the inn. Handel's body was at the church and the prisoner was in the jail. Word was to be sent if he woke. Barrick commented that we should remember Ash Lane as the "village of helpful people." What little other information gathered was that a [b]Lord Dansforth[/b] lived in the manse above the village next to a ruined keep, and that the church was run by a Father[b] Dornan[/b]. We had also sold the prisoner's horse in exchange for a [b]pack pony[/b], with [b]thirty gold[/b] to boot. The priest - "Al," as he liked to be called - engaged us in a game of cards for beer. The human brew was weak and watery, but it helped me relax a bit after our long day's walk. With our windfall of gold, we all rented private rooms when we were ready to retire. In the morning, we planned on checking the prisoner and seeing to the burial of Handel. Sometime in the night, a sound from the far end of the hall woke me. I listened a moment, then heard Barrick shouting something. Grabbing my urgrosh, I threw open my door and jumped out into the narrow hallway. In hindsight I realized that the door should have still been locked. Standing in the middle of the hall was the she-elf. She had already stabbed Barrick with a spear, and when he tried to maneuver past the deadly bladetip, she struck him with her bare hand hard enough that he flinched back in pain. Coming up the stairs behind them, one of the gray men appeared, wielding a pistol. I shouted a warning to everyone as I rushed at the elf, who struck at both of we dwarves with lightning speed with her spear, barely missing us both. Barrick jumped back into his room to retrieve a better weapon. The elf turned and gave me a quick assessing look, then made a fluid retreat into the open doorway of Marcus and Charlotte’s room. Something about her dark, colorless features stirred something in my memory, stories from childhood. She was a [b]Shadow Elf[/b]! The whir of a lead ball spinning past my head broke my reverie. The gray man was still trying to judge the effectiveness of his shot through the smoky blastpowder cloud when I charged him. Just as I caught a glimpse of the priest peering from his room, the haft of the elf's spear struck me solidly from the next doorway. Stumbling, I still managed to get a glancing blow against the shootist. He pulled out a thin blade, a scoundrel's weapon, and we were engaged. As we fought, loud sounds were coming from the siblings' room; the knock of wooded weapons, furniture crashing, glass breaking. Barrick appeared at the doorway, rejoining the fight. Seeming to hear some silent command, the gray man broke off and ran down the stairs. I decided not to give chase, and moved to the room where the rest of the battle was taking place. Everyone had stopped fighting, staring out of an open window, with no sign of the Shadow Elf or her companions. She had indeed tried to take the clock, but Marcus had protected it with a quick bit of furniture re-arrangement. We shared our observations from the encounter, and Marcus told us what he knew of the clock's maker. Even though the clock had been checked for magic, my suggestion of winding it to see if it did anything special was soundly rejected. Barrik even went as far as suggesting it might be easier to sell it for parts and scrap, making it useless to the shadow elf and her companions. After Aleator tended to our wounds, we all retired to our beds. Now as I sit here penning this new chapter in my quest, I am stuck by a sudden ill feeling. If all of our rooms were so easily unlocked, how difficult will it be for our gray captive to escape this hamlet's jail? Or for those that attacked us to break him out? The sun is almost up. I will see who else of my fellow sojourners is an early riser and head down to the constable's (what was his name? [b]Bergen[/b]?) and see if he still lives. [/QUOTE]
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