Softwind's Tale: Companions of the Valley (upd 04/01/04) - REALLY!

[Softwind]

Root and loot

Session 35 (Nov 03) [part three of three]

“Come again?” Tombit asks.

“Drylle apparently set up a deadfall, with the trigger right here.” Brynn points, first at a patch of ground, and then follows a barely seen cord from that spot up into the trees, where a log is precariously perched. Kneeling, Brynn cuts the line, disabling the trigger. “Good job Genoa.”

Cautiously, the trio works their way to the lean-to, and steps inside, although Karazak declines to enter the small structure. Inside, Brynn pokes at the pile of leaves, straw, and cloth bedding on the ground, using the sheathed end of his long sword. When no plagues occur, or traps are sprung, he becomes bolder. Pulling back the blanket off the rough wood frame bed, he spies a small satchel and some relatively fresh dirt. While Tombit jumps at the chance to rummage through the sack, Brynn uncovers a wooden box in the newly dug floor, and takes the box out of the lean-to. Setting it on the ground, he opens it. And then realizes that opening it without checking it over could be a mistake.

Nothing untoward occurs, however, and he bends to the task of investigating the contents. Two items are found within – a light shirt apparently made from leaves, made to go under other clothing, and a rod of some sort. He looks up from his find to see Tombit chuckling as small gemstones run through his fingers and back into the small bag he holds. Brynn watches for a moment, before commenting, “You know, that’s not ours. All we came here for was tae determine if this hermit Drylle is a druid, one able tae change the weather an all. You’d best put that back. This too…” He hands Tombit the box, causing him to drop the sack. Coins and gems scatter across the grass. As Tombit and Brynn put the contents back into the sack, there is a disturbance from the edge of the woods. In the next moment, they are startled by a small reptilian shape ducking between them, grasping the sack in its claws, and flying up and over the trees.

“Dal! Where’s Cobalt going with that?” Tombit shouts to the mage, whose familiar has just taken the loot *he* was going to take.

“Best guess? Back to our cell at the Wizards Guild. I do believe he’s got quite the stash.”

“What? Call him back…” Tombit’s words trail off as he sees the mage slowly shaking his head.

“He’s got a mind of his own. One of the agreements I made with him was to allow him a certain amount of my funds for his own. Being a student mage, I didn’t earn much. I guess he’s decided now is a good time to collect. Sorry.”

Brynn is disgruntled. “I didnae come here tae steal. For all we know, Drylle will return shortly…”

Genoa begins shaking her head, as she walks towards the monk and ranger. “No, I don’t believe he will be returning…”

“Why’s that?”

“One, his grove is returning back to the Green. No will shapes it. So he’s either released his influence voluntarily, or he’s died. Two, I found this,” she holds up parts of a wooden stave, carved with a leaf motif, but broken, or rather*bitten*, in two, “near that turnip-thing we killed yesterday.” She tosses them to the ground. “It was a druid’s staff. I can tell. A bit of Drylle’s essence suffuses it. Or did. It’s fading now, almost gone.” She looks up at Brynn, catching his eye. “He’s gone, returned to the Green.”

“Well, perhaps he has relatives…” Brynn protests.

“If he did, how would we find them? Do we know Drylle is his real name? Is he from here? No, Brynn, I say this time, we claim his belongings. If someone asks for them later, we turn them over. Until then, we use them. Especially *that*,” she says, pointing to the garment in the now-open box in Tombit’s hands. “I’ve really hoped I’d find one of these on our travels. My father spoke of one often.”

“That frail thing? It’s a tunic of leaves. What good is it?”

“This is called druid’s vestments. It’s a magical item that allows a druids’ wildshaping ability to be extended.” She pulls on the tunic, and twirls around for effect. Brynn begrudgingly admits it looks somehow *right* when worn by the druid.

Daladariel spots the other item left in the box, a rod or wand of some sort. He casts Detect Magic, and determines that it is magical in nature. “And I, I will study this item. Perhaps it can be put to good use…” His smile does not waver as Brynn sighs heavily, throws up his hands, and walks away.

“Let’s head to town, and then Karazak and I will forage, for us, and for the town. There has to be something here, somewhere. When we left some days ago, they were near to starving.”

“Oooh, can you look for berries? It’s been days since I’ve had pie…” Tombit looks wistful.

Genoa lays a hand on Tombit’s shoulder. “If I can find any berries, ripe or past season, I should be able to craft something with my magic.”

“Berry pie?” The Halfling’s furry face looks hopeful.

Genoa laughs, and then sobers. “Tombit, if you could eat a pie of Goodberries, I’ll eat my new vest. Each berry should be as a full meal.”

“Full meal for *you*, maybe. It would probably be just a snack for me…”

“We shall see…”

***

The Companions travel back to Sumpter, like returning champions, albeit dirty, scarred, battered and bruised ones. They find that conditions have not improved in the few days they have been gone, save for the absence of attacks from plant creatures.

Many of the villagers are too weak to do more than smile when the news is told of the clearing of the threat from the surrounding woods. The smiles get broader as Brynn and Karazak, returning from foraging, bring several messes of fish. The stew prepared from the fish, while not a gourmet meal, helps revive flagging spirits and strengthen limbs. The party stays a few days to make sure everyone at the village will recover. Before they leave, the thankful village elders gift the party with some of the little they have to give.

The handful of coins are refused, but the party does agree to take some of the woolen garments and locally brewed ale, one for the recently denuded to wear, the other to make the miles back to Everlund pass quickly. When they are once more on the Everlund Pass road, they consider themselves fortunate to catch a ride on a passing wagon. The wagon driver, at first suspicious of their motives, quickly warms to them as they agree to buy some of his goods destined for Bell Market in Everlund.

Brynn stares at the bar in his hands. “What do I need with *soap*? Especially *scented* soap?!?”

Tombit sniffs delicately. “Because, friend dwarf, you, I and all our party smell of rotting vegetables, dirt, acid, and mold. We call *al* use a bath, and this is just the thing for it!” He tosses the bar into the air, catches it, and scampers off before the ranger can take a swing at him.

“I’ll show you smelly… *sniff* Hmm, he might have a point there…”

 

[Softwind]

Clean, and work

Session 36 (Nov 03) [Part one]

With a final creak and bump, the farmer’s wagon pulls into the large square that makes up the Everlund Bell Market. From there, it is a short walk for the party to return to their rooms at the Scowling Orc. Baths are called for, and the inn staff is kept busy running for hot water, towels, and scouring rushes.

“Aaaah,” Brynn sighs as he sinks a little further into his tub. “Now that’s nice.” He looks over at Tombit. “C’mon in, cat.”

Tombit eyes the tub warily, his whiskers twitching as he watches the steam gently rising from the hot water within. He moves closer, and dips a hand it, pulling it out quickly. “Hot!” he scowls at Brynn.

“Nae more so than a few steps back from a dwarven forge. Jus’ jump right in…” Brynn leans back, then sits bolt upright as a wave of water from the other tub splashes over him. Glowering, he looks at the Halfling, who, upon taking his advice, had done just that. Looking like a drowned rat, his cap still firmly on his head, Tombit splashes about in the tub, deciding that the hot water is indeed nice, and the scented soap from the merchant is *just* the thing to ease his acid-burned skin.

“Foolish Halfling,” Brynn grumbles, but the hot water soon eases his irritation at Tombit, and he sinks back into the tub. Idly he sniffs the bar of soap, then checking to see if the Halfling is watching, proceeds to scrub with it. “Ah, that is nice,” he thinks, just before he hears snickering from the other tub. Glancing over, he sees Tombit amusedly watching him, water dripping from whiskers raised in a smile. “Bah, I were just testin’ it tae see if it’s good enough tae use. It’s too flower-y, and not strong enough.” As Tombit chuckles, Brynn chucks the soap at him, which the monk easily dodges.

They concentrate on finishing their baths as the water cools, and are toweling off as a knock is heard at their door. In the hall outside, Genoa and Athena wait for the men to open the door. Athena wrings a few stray drops of water from her hair absently as they listen to the tumult inside. “They must have spent more time in the tubs than we did. I didn’t think either Brynn or Tombit would even take a bath, to be honest.”

Genoa giggles. “Brynn is more comfortable in a mountain spring with a tree limb, and I think Tombit, uh, licks himself clean?” She looks over to Athena quizzically, and they both chuckle. When the door opens, the ladies look at the still-dripping ranger and monk, and burst out laughing. Brynn’s puzzled, “What?” just adds fuel to the flame as the two ladies lean against each other for support, gales of laughter weakening their knees.

“Gah, women,” mutters Brynn as he and Tombit wait for the two to catch their breath. When the laughter subsides, Athena and Genoa wipe tears from their eyes and stand up straight, facing the men. Between giggles, Genoa asks, “I’m returning to the Green Hall for awhile, and Athena has it in mind to pick up Ogre as a language. We were wondering what activity you two would be putting yourselves towards?”

Tombit points back in the room, towards the patch of sunlight beneath the window. Brynn chuckles, and tells Genoa, “I’ll join ye, lass. I’ve got much to talk to the Druidess about, methinks. Those… creatures… disturbed me. I’d like to learn more about ‘em if’n I could, in case we go against them agin.” He reaches back into the room, and belts his swords about his waist. “Asides, Karazak n I need some time tagether that don’ involve fightin’. Perhaps we’ll head outa town, and grab us some prey out in the fields.”

Brynn finishes getting ready, and joins the ladies as they head downstairs. “Where’s Skylar?” Brynn asks as they cross the common room. “Wasn’t she with you?”

Genoa waves her hand in dismissal. “Last we saw, she and Gotien had their heads together discussing some spell or another that she wants to learn. She stopped in the room only for a quick clean up, and rushed out the door. Down to the Mages Guildhall, most likely.”

Athena agreed. “Ever since she’s discovered the Art runs in her blood, she’s become more torn with the direction she wants to take. She is a doughty fighter, very good with that bow she uses. The addition of Grimnyr’s Beard to her arsenal made me think she was going to be concentrating on her melee abilities. Then she picks up a smattering of spells. *Sigh* Poor woman. Still, she seems happy enough. Perhaps her desire to adventure really is her calling. I don’t think the life of a merchant would have suited her, after all,” Athena tapers off, recalling the first time the party met the archer. Sole survivor of a caravan bound for the tri-cities, Skylar seemed to have taken her survival as a challenge to constantly increase her abilities in all ways related to combat.

Outside the Scowling Orc, Athena parts ways with Genoa and Brynn, as she heads towards one of the guard barracks. “If anyone here would know the language of the Ogres, it would be the town militia,” she reasons. After asking around, she finds a few guards just going off duty that know a smattering of the language. For the price of a few ales to wet their throats, and the company of the lovely gnome (Athena blushes), they will teach her as much as they can.

Outside Everlund, amidst the tall trees of the Green Hall, Genoa and Brynn, with their companions Timber and Karazak, allow the peace of the grove to lift their concerns from their shoulders. Sighing contentedly, they follow the game trails to the Hall in the midst of the copse.
Several people wander about in the open air, talking in quiet tones or just resting in contemplation. After a quick scan reveals that the druidess is not present, Brynn and Genoa wander over to join conversations already in progress. Timber and Karazak, with their friend’s blessings, pad over to the small pond to the side of the Hall, and drink their fill. The two lay down for a rest, idly watching the goings on. Taking advantage of the calm, they nod off into naps, assured that if anything untoward occurs, their friends will awaken them.

The quiet is shattered sometime later by the ringing of the Bell Market’s namesake. Timber and Karazak return to their friend’s sides as Brynn and Genoa try to ascertain why the alarm is sounding. Assured that the druids and rangers in the Grove will be able to handle whatever comes their way, the two rush back to the town, looking for their Companions, leaving their animals at the Hall.

At a local bar, Athena’s lessons are disrupted as the bell rings out. Her teachers abruptly stand up, buckling on weapons, asking Athena to return to her inn room. “It’ll be too dangerous for you, citizen,” they state. Athena remains seated as they leave the tavern, then stands up and scurries after them, intent on not loosing them in the sudden commotion on the streets. Vendors are hurriedly closing shops as townsfolk rush back home, or other locations.

Within the Guild Hall, Skylar looks up from the book she was intently studying. Her head cocked to one side, she strains to hear sounds from outside the quiet hall. Daladariel, sensing her break in studies, looks up inquiringly. “Skylar, you must concentrate or you will not be able to master this spell…” he begins to admonish, before her body language stops him. He too listens, his face hardening in disquiet as he recognizes the sound that so captured Skylar’s attention. “Oh dear,” he murmers.

Skylar turns to him, questions plainly visible in her face. Daladariel turns to her, and without preamble, explains. “We are under attack. The Bell Market warning bell is only used when all of the cities’ forces need to defend the walls. All citizens are advised to clear the streets, or take up arms if part of the volunteer militia. We shall wait it out here, in the safety of the Guild hall.” He turns back to his book, but hearing Skylar getting up, glances over to her, “Skylar, what are you doing?”

Skylar stops rebuckling her weapon belts for a moment, looking at the mage. “My friends are out there. I do not believe they will sit idly by, whether they are militia or no. I’ve got to join them. Will you come, new to our Company as you are?” She holds out a hand to him.

Daladariel sighs, and looks longingly in the direction of his cell, and that of the Guildmaster Gotien’s. After a pause, and a deep breath, grasps the offered hand and pulls himself up with her assistance. “I will join you shortly. For a century, Everlund has been my home. I believe it to be my duty now to assist in its defense. First though, I need to speak with Gotien.” Her eyes dancing at the thought of the upcoming combat, Skylar implores the mage to hurry, crowing “We’re gonna go Keel stuff!” Daladariel just rolls his eyes, and sighs.

Skylar emerges onto the street just as Athena is passing by. “Ho, Athena,” Skylar calls out, stopping the cleric in her tracks. Athena walks over, but her gaze stays facing the backs of the departing guards. Without turning her head, she asks “Are you also heading for the wall?”

Following her gaze, seeing the militia moving towards the north of town, Skylar confirms her friend’s question with a grin. “New friends,” she asks, pointing with her thumb towards the guards. “Uh huh. Those nice men were teaching me Ogre. We were just getting past ‘Me want food’ and ‘Me want bash’ and learning about names for stuff. *Sigh* I want to make sure those guys are okay…”

Skylar nods. “I’ll join you. That way, I can help you, and keel stuff at the same time!” Athena flashes her a quick smile, then half-pleading, asks “Can we then hurry? I don’t want to lose them.”

“Yes! Come!” The two hustle after the backs of the guardsmen as they disappear around a shop corner. Despite her shorter legs, Athena keeps up with her elven friend’s longer strides. Crossing a main street, they see Brynn and Genoa coming up the road from the west gate, and wave to get their attention. While Athena watches nervously and shuffles from foot to foot with the delay, Skylar updates the new-comers on the plan. The druid and ranger agree, and the Companions are once more on the move, heading to the North wall. Behind them, the alarm bell continues to ring out a warning.

 

[Softwind]

Upon the wall

Session 36 (Nov 03) [Part two]

“Master Gotien?” Daladariel raps again on the Guildmaster’s door. “Are you within?”
“Yes, Dal, come in.” The mage enters the nicely appointed room, and takes a seat before the large desk. Gotien looks up from his reading, eyes looking over the glass ovals perched on his nose. “What can I do for you, my student?”

“I have questions and concerns. I have recently returned from a task set the Companions. I believe I have conducted myself well, yet I have doubts about how I applied the teachings you have given me. From what my new friends found in the High Forest and near Sumpter, I know there to be greater powers at work in current and not so current events. So I look for guidance.”

Gotien puts down his book and with slow careful motions, removes his glasses and places them on the closed volume. He looks at Daladariel for a moment without speaking, studying the still-young elf’s face. When the Guildmaster begins speaking, it is in a firm, low tone. “When you first came into our Halls, orphaned by violence, withdrawn into yourself, I had great worry for you. In this century past, you have shown great promise. An intellect that rivals many of the mages’ here. Your grasp of subtle concepts is phenomenal.”

The older gentleman leans back, his breath loosed slowly in a sigh. “Yet you lack the one thing we cannot give you here. Experience.” He leans forward again, his eyes focusing on distant things. “And if I am not mistaken, such a thing is happening right now.” His eyes focusing on Daladariel perched on the edge of his seat like an errant schoolboy, he continues, “The town that has housed you all these years is under attack. Your friends most likely have rushed to its aid, if I’m no mistaker of character. You have journeyed with them a short while. Will you now continue that journey? Let me reassure you, my door shall remain ever open to you. We will speak more, after.” Gotien waits, expectantly.

Daladariel stands up, hesitation plain on his face. “Good master…” he begins, but is interrupted by Gotien. “Go, my child. Learn, and grow. Come back to me, and we will talk again.” Daladariel gulps, then quickly turns and hurries out the office, through the Guild Hall, and out onto the street. He pauses only a moment before rushing northward to rejoin his companions. Within the Hall, Gotien stares at the empty chair unseeing. Shaking his head, with a sad smile on his face, he picks up his glasses, and with them firmly seated on his nose once more, begins to read.

***

Brynn, Athena, Skylar, and Genoa slow their hurried pace as they near the wall surrounding the city. Atop it already are man guardsmen and women, staring out past the crenulations to the fields beyond. Dull thumps are heard repeating beyond, with the ground trembling in counterpoint beneath armored feet. Shouts and grunts can be heard in the distance, as can commands shouted by militia officers. A shout from behind them reveals its source as Tombit, running to join up with them. The monk pants lightly as he draws close, and says “It was a choice between a nap in the sun, and some action. Since we have plenty of daylight, I figured I’d work on my moves. Hiyah!” The Companions exclaim their appreciation of his choice, then face towards the wall again.

Brynn spares his friends a glance before setting foot on a ramp leading to the catwalk inside the wall. His progress, and that of the Companions behind him, is halted by a guardsmen with lowered spear. “No citizens are allowed on the wall,” the guard intones. “It’s for your safety. The guards will take care of the threat.”

Brynn smiles in a grim fashion, as he pulls his swords out and displays them to the young guard baring the way. As the sun glints from the blades, the guard cannot help but notice the battlescars upon them. The young guard looks past the dwarf at the rest of the party behind him. Seeing that he faces none not used to battle, his spear raises, and he steps to the side. “My apologies, citizen. You seem very familiar with those weapons, and frankly, we can use all the help we can get.” The guard jerks a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the half score of guardsmen on the wall. Each of the men, although looking ready for the oncoming threat, also look very young, and somewhat unsure of themselves. Brynn watches as one individual wipes sweat from his brow, and swallows heavily, even though the day is mild.

He turns to the guard on the ramp. “Tell us where you hae need of us, and we’ll do it.” Brynn waves his group forward, and they gather around the guard.

“The ballistae are undermanned, and we are short some archers. I see bows on some of you, so I take it you are familiar with their use? Great! Based on what we face, the bows will need be dropped afore too long, and melee weapons pulled. Even with your help, we have small hope of holding off the horde that draws near.” The man swallows heavy, as the thought works past his hard-won bravado.
Brynn begins to ask what manner of foe they face, but stops as he sees the creatures come shuffling out of the forest some three hundred yards from the walls. His voice is low and full of danger. “Giants.” He squints, trying to make out more detail. The tall humanoids look about 15 feet tall, but walk with such a gait as to indicate they travel hunched over. “They’d be over twenty feet if they stood up all the way,” he mutters.

“What manner of giant are they, Brynn?” Genoa asks, as she mentally reviews the spells Silvanus has bestowed on her. She selects several, before noticing Brynn has not responded. “Brynn?”

The ranger says nothing for a moment, before shaking his head in confusion. “Me da told me ov several different breeds, but these are like none I’ve heard ov nor seen. I know not, and it bothers me.”

The guard interrupts. “I don’t know or care what they’re called. But I do know, they’re not from around here, even with the movement of the various tribes from the mountains. And they don’t look friendly…”

The party jumps to action then, as Brynn rushes to help man a ballista, Skylar stands by a basket of arrows (filling her quiver while she has the opportunity) and Athena and Genoa pull their slings. The healers, knowing their weapons to be of limited use at such distances, also keep their eyes out for need of their healing talents. Tombit carries his light crossbow to another basket filled with bolts, and takes up position there, watching the giants advance in a chaotic mob as he loads a bolt into it.

“Ready… aiiiiiim….. FIRE!” shouts the guard responsible for aiming the ballista Brynn assists with. With a shudder as the weapon’s limbs straighten, the large missile is launched at the oncoming forces, and lodges in the chest of an oncoming giant. “Hah!” shouts Brynn in triumph, “First blood!” Then the ranger is forced to return attention to the weapon, helping crank it for another shot.

“Don’t you mean second blood?” Skylar calls out, sweetly, as she reloads her bow. “Huh?” comes the reply, to which she just points out. Following the finger, Brynn spies a giant staggering with several arrow shafts protruding from its head and neck. “Bah,” is his only comment as he puts his back into cranking his weapon again. Skylar smirks before launching more arrows.

Deciding her weapon just won’t reach, Genoa instead concentrates on the words of a spell to summon forth a Briar Web in the midst of a grouping of giants. Even with their great strength, four giants are unable to break free of the stinging plants that so suddenly surround them. Their cries of pain and anger drift over the battlefield, but Genoa does not smile as she looks for new targets close together.

She is momentarily distracted by Daladariel running up the ramp behind her, panting from the run. “Found… hoo hah.. you…hoh ha.” The mage staggers past. “You okay, Dal?” the druid asks, half in concern, but with a smile in her voice.

“Yeah, just.. huff… out of breath. I’ll be fine.” The mage straightens up, and looks across the battlements. “By Mystra! There are so many of them!”

“Aye. So whatever you can do to help would be appreciated!” a guardsmen shouts.

“I can accommodate that, I believe!” The pea-sized projectile streaks from his outstretched finger to impact amidst a group of giants running forward almost shoulder to shoulder. Upon reaching its target, the Fireball erupts, searing flesh from bones. Several giants stumble, severely injured, as others shrug off the injury, yelling in pain and anger.

“Slow em down, mage!” Brynn shouts at Daladariel, as the dwarf struggles to crank the ballistae into firing position and load it again. “We need more time!”

“Can do!” Daladariel casts again, this time causing black tendrils to rise from the ground and wrap themselves about several giants. Believing themselves strong enough to break through any impediment, the giants’ faces show their confusion as they find the tendril material impervious to their struggles to free themselves. Even so, some of the shadowstuff conjured up shows the strain.

“That’ll do!” This from Skylar’s direction, although Daladariel is unable to determine if it was his fellow elf’s throat, or the axe upon her back, that shouted the words. The elven archer quickly fires a quarter-score of arrows at the captured giants. Her small shafts are soon joined by the larger bolt from the ballistae, which skewers a giant, felling it to dangle lifeless in the tendrils.

“Great shots all! But our needs are more towards those that still advance! Focus the attacks on them while the rest are slowed.” The guardsmen shouts. The man’s shouts are drowned out by sudden sounds of stone against stone, as the closer giants begin to hurl great boulders at the wall, and also at those who stand watch upon it. With painful screams, some of the guards are struck, knocked from their feet. A few are unfortunate enough to be knocked from the wall, landing on the ground below with a sickening crunch.

“Nooooo!” groans Athena, as she recognizes some of the guards that had been teaching her just minutes before. She takes a few steps before realizing that nothing could be done for them with the powers granted her. A quick prayer is intoned, before she turns back to guardsmen that were injured in the initial salvo. The treated men give her hurried but heartfelt thanks, as they feel their wounds healing in mere seconds.

 

[Softwind]

Session 36 (Nov 03) [Part three]

Out on the field, several giants lay unmoving, even as their fellows trample their bodies underfoot. A second Briar Web is erected by Genoa, slowing but not halting the main force’s advance. Even under the hail of arrows, bolts, and sling stones, the giants advance steadily, reaching the walls quickly. Several more town guards are knocked from the wall, or crushed where they stand by the flung stones from the giants. Brynn himself takes a glancing blow, which only maddens him, causing him to work the ballista’s crank harder and faster.
Another boulder crashes against the weapon, killing the aimer and cracking the frame. Brynn does not pause, but directs the siege weapon at a near giant, and fires. The weapon, stressed already, performs this final act before tearing itself apart. “Hah! Skewered that one, we did. Drat, fool weapon.” He pulls his swords, and braces himself for the rush, as the hunchbacked giants reach the wall itself, and begin to lift themselves up.

“Stand by to repel attack!” shouts a dew-faced guard, as he waves a spear over his head. In the next moment, the guard is gone, swept from the wall by a blow from a small tree, wielded by a large giant. The giant doesn’t have a chance to gloat, as Skylar, with a shout, sinks Grimnyr’s Beard into its skull. The second blow nearly severs its head, and it topples backwards, momentarily tangling up with those that follow.

In the confusion, Tombit, who had been quietly watching, and occasionally firing his crossbow, jumps atop a crenellation, and launches himself at the head of another giant. A quick swipe of his claws, and the giant is blinded by its own blood streaming into the ruin of its eyes. The monk then drops to the ground below, waiting for a chance to sneak attack his enemies.

Additional stones from the giants reduce further the number of defenders, and in some cases, begin crumbling the walls themselves. Athena is kept busy, moving from injured soldier to injured soldier, reducing pain, and returning function to damaged bodies. She struggles to keep the sobs boiling up in her throat from escaping, and angrily wipes away tears as she spots one after another of her temporary teachers’ bodies, slain. In a lull, she looks up from her self-appointed task, and gasps at the nearness of so many giants. Lacking patients for the moment, she pulls her mace and scimitar, and attacks a nearby invader. Scarcely does the giant get a handhold on the wall to pull itself up than its hand and face are assailed by whirling steel. With a shout, it falls back, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Nearby, near the ruins of the ballista, Brynn discovers himself surrounded by four giants, all intent on killing him. Seeking to avoid being surrounded, he leaps down off the wall on the town side, and presses his back against the cool stones. His opponents follow, and severely injure him with their fists, and large clubs of wood or bone. His dwarven constitution, and burning hatred for giants are all the keep him standing upright, but he knows he cannot take more blows like that and hope to survive.

“Gotta get tae higher ground agin,” he mutters, and invokes the Helm of Teleportation on his head, to move back to the ramp leading up the wall. The momentary disorientation on his arrival almost pitches him off the wall headfirst, but he regains his senses enough to gulp down a healing potion, restoring some of his health. “They’ve breached the walls! The giants have breached the walls!” he shouts, as he sees additional guardsmen rushing from another section of the wall, and some from the town itself.

On the other side of the wall, Tombit nimbly dances through the legs of his opponents, always keeping giantflesh between himself and clubs or boulders. Deprived of a clear shot, several giants get entangled with each other trying to attack the diminutive monk. Those that draw close enough pull back injured limbs as Tombit puts his Tiger claws to good use.

“Got another!” Tombit hears the shout, as one of the giants threatening him is abruptly slain by a well placed axe blow. Looking up the wall, he spies Skylar swinging towards another giant, whose head and shoulders are just the right height above the walls for an easy hit. He also watches as an unlucky guardsmen is struck from the wall to land nearby, at the feet of the giant that attacked him. “Oh no you don’t!” Tombit meows, and begins to cut the hamstrings of the giant. Under this new threat, the giant whirls around on its good leg, striking at its attacker. The guard, recovering from the stunning blow, thrusts his short sword into the giant’s leg, finishing the cut started by Tombit.

As the giant unbalances, Tombit climb/runs up the front of it, using his claws to assist the ascent. Upon reaching the giant’s middle, his blades bite deeper, disrupting vital life flow of the creature. Tombit rides the giant down to the ground, tumbling off in safety before it strikes ground. “Ta da!” he crows, thrusting his arms in the air at the perfect dismount, but seeing that no one is looking his direction, slumps dejectedly and mutters. His mood improves as he spies a giant attempting to flee, and chases after. The guard he rescued slumps against the wall, alive but barely. “Hope he’s okay when I return,” Tombit thinks.

Daladariel, having put Magic Missiles and Acid Arrows to good use against the entrapped giants within his Tentacles spell, turns his attention at the giants within the walls. His voice does not waver as he casts the Fireball spell towards the knot of giants milling about. When the smoke clears, and he can see again, only one of the four still stands. “Durn it, mage! Warn a dwarf when yer gonna do that!” shouts Brynn over his shoulder, as he runs to engage the last giant. “A few seconds earlier, and I’d hae been in it that, too!”

Daladariel shrugs apologetically. “But you weren’t, friend Brynn. The last one has been softened up for you. It’s all yours!”

“I don’ need them *softened*. I *like* ‘em tough. S’more fun that way!” Brynn’s blades finish off the giant in two hits, and he watches in some dissatisfaction as the giant comes crashing down. “Too easy.” He scans the area, near the boulder damaged and fire scorched buildings that border the town wall, but sees no giants save those that lay unmoving on the flagstones. “Fah,” he mumbles, then moves towards the ramp leading up to the wall.

Skylar watches as one of the remaining giants flees, with Tombit on its tail. Carefully, she draws back her bowstring, resting the fletching of the arrow against her cheek. Taking aim, she lets fly, watching as her shaft sinks up to the nock in the neck of her target. The giant takes only one more step before it comes crashing down. Tombit reaches the target, and plunges his claws into its neck, making sure the opponent is truly dead. He flashes Skylar a thumbs up, causing her to smile grimly, before going through the giant’s pockets and bags. This elicits a chuckle from the elf as she checks for any other target in sight.

In the field before her, all she sees are fallen giants, and some guards cutting throats of the slain. Many of the guards bear wounds, from club, stone or giant fist, but none are slowed in their task. Skylar raises her eyes to further in the distance, along the wall, and sees additional targets being dealt with by the guards there. Close by, the Red Wizard’s enclave shows signs of attack, with cracked logs and scorched wood, but no giant made it closer that a few paces before being slain. By the looks of it, fire based attacks were the norm, as every corpse bore burns. Upon the town wall, Skylar watches as Athena moves from body to body, looking for those she can assist. Quiet sobs are pulled from her throat as she finds every last one of her teachers has been slain. Tenderly, she closes eyes and arranges batter limbs into some semblance of order, before moving on to those that can benefit from her aid. Skylar swallows a lump that develops in her throat as she remembers a similar scene so long ago, involving a caravan under her care. She wipes away a tear, and then stirs herself to action, as she draws up along Athena, and helps with the wounded.

Nearby, Genoa finishes healing a young soldier. As he thanks her, she absently nods, her eyes scanning the battle ground. A smile lights her face as she watches Tombit exclaiming over the loot the giants carried. A troubled frown crosses her brow – somehow, collecting the loot now, so quick after the attack seems wrong. Athena somehow senses her concern, and following Genoa’s gaze, sees Tombit’s activities. “He does no harm. Knowing him, he will volunteer part of his portion to the families of those slain. I too will donate, plus additional to the churches in Everlund.” Athena grips Genoa’s shoulder with her right hand. “Come, let us help.”

Athena and Genoa start down the ramp, with Skylar joining them as they descend. With Brynn’s help, they locate a handbarrow and wheel it out the gate nearby, out into the torn up fields. The cart sinks several times as bags heavy with coin, metal servingware, gems, potions, and the occasional magical item. Soldiers join them, once they realize the party’s intention to split what is gained fairly with those left standing, and the families of those that fell. The pile of items grows within the warehouse that was commandeered for the purpose, much to the delight of Tombit, who attempts to swim within the coins.

Under the watchful eye of a guard captain and his men, the Companions count and sort the booty, giving equal value of coins and gems to the guard to distribute as warranted. Additional coins are added to the guard’s share (mostly heavy copper) and several semi-precious stones as well. The adventurers keep what scrolls and potions would aid them more than the townsfolk, leaving them healing items.

 

[Softwind]

Session 36 (Nov 03) [Part four of four]

“I’d like to apologize to ye,” starts the guard captain. “At first, I thought ye’re just up on the walls for the chance at booty from our attackers. But ye’ve left the lion’s share to the soldiers and their families. Ye didn’t have to do that, since from what I hear, ye’ve done most of the killin’. Thank ye.” The gruff man clears his throat, and walks away, telling a subordinate to see to the dispersal. He leaves the party silent in stunned embarrassment. “Well, *I* don’t mind getting some loot…” begins one, before being hushed by the rest of the party. “Oh okay, I did it cuz it was right to…”


“Brynn, you look troubled.” Athena states quietly.

“I am, Athena. I’ve been listenin’ tae some of the guards from other parts o’ the wall. Even though our section was hit harder’n most, we had mostly ill-trained boys wit’ us. And th’ replacements weren’t nae better. Other sectors, the ones wit’ veterans, were nae touched at all. This wasn’t just a random attack.” He stares pointedly at the party. “Somethin’ rotten here. An’ I don’t mean them carcasses out there…” He jerks a thumb towards the killing field.

“But what can we do about it? We’re just a band of adventurers, looking for our home. We can’t take on the troubles of another town….” Athena’s voice dies out.

“Aye, lass, I know. But for now, we should keep our eyes 'n ears open, in case we hear sumtin' tae pass on to the guards here. We do em a favor, maybe they can help us find home, an’ our kin, somehow… In the meantime, let’s take our earnings, and finish up our day with drink!”

 

[Softwind]

Need to rewrite my notes to continue the storyhour. I've lost the job that gave me plenty of time during the day to read and write here on En World's boards, so I can only snatch time at the end of the day to work on it, hence the 2-3 week lags between posts. I hope I can get this next chapter in place before the end of April. We'll see...