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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5711216" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The company paused over the tainted remains for a bit while Haelan said some kind words for the poor man. Alaria placed a handful of the silver coins upon the body (his tribute to the death goddess in the afterlife) before they used the oil from the courier’s pack to douse the remains.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">With a casual flick of her finger, Alaria ignited the collected remains with a simple sliver of magical flame. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Feeling their duty done, the group carried on to Shafton.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">It was not an hour later before they came to the outlying farms of the mining community. They passed three homesteads. Two had obviously been torched, little more than charred beams and heaps blackened material.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The third had its windows and doorway boarded up. A quick inspection revealed no one about. The interior of the place was in utter disarray. The normal household tools and simple furnishings were strewn about, broken and tattered.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“We’d best get to the inn and find out what’s actually going on.” Festus offered. “The Silver Platter is just up here.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">They entered the town proper. Buildings on both sides were built of solid stacked stones with thick beams exposed here and there. Most of the roofs were shingles of shale. Every possible window and doorway was shut, shutters closed. Several buildings had planks of wood barring the shutters, from the outside and/or across the doorways. A few people were seen peering through shutters or planks across the windows. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Two men rushed up to meet them as they neared the town’s square. One was armored in a shirt of chainmail under the blue tabard of the Bridgetower guard, the other in simple peasant garb. Both wielding swords.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Thank the gods you’ve come. Festus? The captain sent you? A Redstar too! Praise Celradorn. I’m afraid we are sorely in need of your lord’s protection, good paladin.” Said the tower guardsman.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Not just a Redstar, soldier. <em>These</em> are the Defenders of the Tower who defeated the attempted goblin incursion.” Festus said proudly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“We’re called the Stormriders now, actually.” Haelan added with a smile.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The guard looked at the Hilltender somewhat blankly. “Um. Sure, ok. Stormriders or Defenders, Shafton is in dire need. Come. Come, let’s get inside. We’re mostly holed up in the Platter. This way.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The companions all looked at each other and followed the men.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Is the Sergeant there?” Festus offered.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“I’m Sergeant now.” Said the guard, somewhat forelorn. “Sergeant Hepbert fell two nights ago.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“I am sorry to hear it, sergeant, and your name?” Alaria offered even as she noted the speed of the man’s gait. The helmeted soldier couldn’t be any older than twenty summers.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Borsem, milady.” The sergeant answered without turning back. “It’s all right. They’re here to help.” The man called out to the prying eyes in one of the multi-storied building’s shuttered windows. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">With that, one shutter, then another and another opened slightly. Exhausted sounds of “Praise Dunric.” and “Thank, the gods” and “Save us, heroes!” rose from various sides of the street.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The group entered the Silver Platter. True to its name, a large oval platter of beaten silver hung over the door. The door was cautiously opened after Sergeant Borsem knocked on it in a specific series with the rounded butt of his sword.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Inside, there was a room that looked more like a general’s tent than an inn’s common room. Maps were laid out across one table. A group of bedraggled and tense looking men hovered in clumps. All bore some weapon, a few swords, spears, axes. There were two youths who reached for longbows even as the party entered. A few large tables had been laid on their sides and pressed up against the large window that faced the street. Several of the window panes were broken out with boards sloppily nailed up over them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Introductions were made. The crowd visibly relaxed with the arrival of the “heroes” from Bridgetower. Explanations, by the sergeant, began. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“We arrived two weeks passed. The mine is, indeed overrun with kobolds. We were able to route them several times away from the entrance shaft. But they have obviously had time built up traps throughout the primary shafts. We lost one of our men in an ambush by the things. But they are loathe to enter the sunlight and are firmly entrenched within the mine’s second and third levels. Here and here.” Sergeant Borsem pointed to two places on a map, obviously, of the mine’s shafts. “And with their being there for nearly a month, according to the local miners, there’s no telling what adjustments to the tunnels they’ve had time to make.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Duor shook his head knowingly. “Yeah. Yappers can dig almost as effectively as dwarves. If they weren’t such bloody cowards, not to mention idiots, they’d be dangerous.” </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Excuse me,” one of the middle-aged raggard looking locals interjected softly, “but did Afran stay in Bridgetower? I thought he’d be returning with you.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Borsem looked at the companions, seemingly as curious for an answer. “This is Afran’s father, Garen.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Who’s Afran?” Haelan questioned innocently. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Alaria wanted to smack the halfling. She turned to Erevan with a pleading look.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Borsem looked at the raggard looking man with worry but held his chin firm. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“The messenger!” said Garen. “The one who brought you word of our plight. He is alright isn’t he?”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“I’m afraid, goodman, your son did not reach Bridgetower.” Fen said cooly. “We are here at the behest of the good Captain Rynthis to find the reason for his squads lack of communication or return.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Alaria shot Fen a disapproving look.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">The man, Garen, who it turned out was one of the farmers, broke down in sorrow. Haelan did his best to console the man and others of the assembled rabble offered their condolences and kind words.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Another older gentleman, the innkeeper Berfle apparently, brought the distraught father a large silver cup of some strong liquor and sat with the man.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Well, that explains why it took the Tower so long to send help.” Borsem said solemnly. “Are there more coming?”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Sergeant,” Coerraine piped in, “how have kobolds been able to create such a panic here…even in the daytime? What are their numbers?”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Borsem nodded and paused a moment. He had to wrap his mind around the fact that the messenger had not made it through to the Tower and these would-be reinforcements really knew nothing of what was going on.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“It’s not the kobolds.” The sergeant began. “We, the initial squad and these brave townsfolk, ventured into the mine to discern the precise nature of the threat…not even the day after we arrived.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“The kobolds are, indeed, there as I noted.” He pointed at the mine map again. “We engaged a few small groups of them. They were stalwart but easily enough routed. As the night drew over the town, a large force of kobolds we were about to engage retreated without apparent reason. We pursued them, believing our victory assured. Then, they came out. Up from one of the tunnels. We had to fight for our lives to get back to the town. Many lives were lost in our retreat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Since then, we’ve not dared to venture back into the mines. But every night, at sundown, they now venture further and further out of the mine.” The sergeant paused a moment, lost in his own thoughts. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“It’s our fault Afran’s dead.” He said quietly. “It was near sundown when we sent him out, but we were assured he was the fastest young man in the village. I thought…well, Sergeant Hepbert was still in command at the time…but we thought that he’d be far enough away from the village before night fell to get back to Bridgetower.” </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“What are <em>‘they’</em>, sergeant?” Erevan asked what all of the party was thinking with his usual emotionless candor. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Monstrous cannibals? Ghouls? Demons? We don’t know what they are.” Borsem admitted. “They reak of death. A fearsome odor that makes all but the most stalwart fall ill. They attack with raking talons. Their touch immobilizes any they touch. There’s a whole pack of them…at least a dozen from what we can tell. They fall upon those immobilized and tear them to shreds in moments. They are…inhuman. Unnatural creatures.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Fen’s earlier assertion echoed in all of the party’s minds.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Every nightfall, they move further and further into the town. Seeking out any unfortunate enough to be caught unawares. We instituted a curfew on the third day. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“The sergeant decreed that only those willing to volunteer to engage them need leave the security of their homes. But two nights of that and we were sorely losing men. When there were none to engage them out of doors, they began assaulting the homes and businesses themselves.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“The clerics of Dunric at the shrine near the mine entrance were entirely massacred. We’ve only a single acolyte left who fled to the square for our aid. He’s near useless. In battle-shock, I suppose. We keep him in the cellars with the women and children who have come here for protection.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Any who are wounded by the creatures fall into a hideous fever which we’ve learned rouses them the following night as one of the creatures. So…” the sergeant paused, unsure how to share the information.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“It was not long before we realized that any wounded had to be...disposed of regardless of how slight the injury.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Alaria gave an audible gasp at the news.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“It has been…a difficult week since Sergeant Hepbert instituted that policy. It is why I am sergeant now.” Borsem finished, not able to meet the gaze of any of the companions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Yer in luck then,” piped up Festus in as cheery a tone as he could muster. “Cuz now yeh’ve got not just a Hilltender of Faerantha, but a paladin of Celradorn, one of the Ancient Order, and the Stormrider, herself! Ghouls or demons, yeh’ve got the full force of a proper R’Hathi magess at yer defense now.” Festus smiled broadly, obviously believing every word he said, at Alaria. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Alaria was horrified at the vote of confidence. A full Magess I might be, Alaria thought, but I’ve no ritual for dealing with demons…or ghouls for that matter!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Haelan just stood agape, also in horror. “I…I…I’m not…ghouls? Hillmother forfend…I don’t…” the cleric’s stammering wiped any look of hope or welcome from the assembled haggard survivors.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Coerraine came to the rescue of his companions, and his, reputation. “Of course we will do everything we can to protect the village and rid it of this evil.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Surprisingly, Fen strode with purpose to stand beside the paladin. He spoke with all seriousness, “These unnatural abominations will be cleansed from the world. The Balance will be restored.”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Coerraine found himself inwardly admiring the “heathen’s” certitude.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“Well, count me out. I’m stayin’ here.” said Duor casually before taking a gulp of a mug of ale he’d helped himself to while the others had been gabbering.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">“If you’ll excuse us, Sergeant Borsem, is there some place my companions and I might conference privately.” Alaria interjected.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Bosrem directed them to one of the rooms upstairs that he knew was vacant. The companions took their leave of the first floor.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Duor brought the mug of ale with him. “Send one of these up in a few, will you? I’ve a feelin’ it’s gonna be a good day to drink.” the dwarf said offhandedly to the innkeeper who was consoling the bereft Garen.</span><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">"Make that two!" called Festus, already ascending the stairs.</span><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"></span> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">Both requests were met with a scowl neither the dwarf nor satyr noticed.</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5711216, member: 92511"] [FONT=Verdana]The company paused over the tainted remains for a bit while Haelan said some kind words for the poor man. Alaria placed a handful of the silver coins upon the body (his tribute to the death goddess in the afterlife) before they used the oil from the courier’s pack to douse the remains. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]With a casual flick of her finger, Alaria ignited the collected remains with a simple sliver of magical flame. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Feeling their duty done, the group carried on to Shafton. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]It was not an hour later before they came to the outlying farms of the mining community. They passed three homesteads. Two had obviously been torched, little more than charred beams and heaps blackened material. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The third had its windows and doorway boarded up. A quick inspection revealed no one about. The interior of the place was in utter disarray. The normal household tools and simple furnishings were strewn about, broken and tattered. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“We’d best get to the inn and find out what’s actually going on.” Festus offered. “The Silver Platter is just up here.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]They entered the town proper. Buildings on both sides were built of solid stacked stones with thick beams exposed here and there. Most of the roofs were shingles of shale. Every possible window and doorway was shut, shutters closed. Several buildings had planks of wood barring the shutters, from the outside and/or across the doorways. A few people were seen peering through shutters or planks across the windows. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Two men rushed up to meet them as they neared the town’s square. One was armored in a shirt of chainmail under the blue tabard of the Bridgetower guard, the other in simple peasant garb. Both wielding swords. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Thank the gods you’ve come. Festus? The captain sent you? A Redstar too! Praise Celradorn. I’m afraid we are sorely in need of your lord’s protection, good paladin.” Said the tower guardsman. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Not just a Redstar, soldier. [I]These[/I] are the Defenders of the Tower who defeated the attempted goblin incursion.” Festus said proudly. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“We’re called the Stormriders now, actually.” Haelan added with a smile. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The guard looked at the Hilltender somewhat blankly. “Um. Sure, ok. Stormriders or Defenders, Shafton is in dire need. Come. Come, let’s get inside. We’re mostly holed up in the Platter. This way.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The companions all looked at each other and followed the men. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Is the Sergeant there?” Festus offered. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“I’m Sergeant now.” Said the guard, somewhat forelorn. “Sergeant Hepbert fell two nights ago.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“I am sorry to hear it, sergeant, and your name?” Alaria offered even as she noted the speed of the man’s gait. The helmeted soldier couldn’t be any older than twenty summers. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Borsem, milady.” The sergeant answered without turning back. “It’s all right. They’re here to help.” The man called out to the prying eyes in one of the multi-storied building’s shuttered windows. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]With that, one shutter, then another and another opened slightly. Exhausted sounds of “Praise Dunric.” and “Thank, the gods” and “Save us, heroes!” rose from various sides of the street. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The group entered the Silver Platter. True to its name, a large oval platter of beaten silver hung over the door. The door was cautiously opened after Sergeant Borsem knocked on it in a specific series with the rounded butt of his sword. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana] [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Inside, there was a room that looked more like a general’s tent than an inn’s common room. Maps were laid out across one table. A group of bedraggled and tense looking men hovered in clumps. All bore some weapon, a few swords, spears, axes. There were two youths who reached for longbows even as the party entered. A few large tables had been laid on their sides and pressed up against the large window that faced the street. Several of the window panes were broken out with boards sloppily nailed up over them. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Introductions were made. The crowd visibly relaxed with the arrival of the “heroes” from Bridgetower. Explanations, by the sergeant, began. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“We arrived two weeks passed. The mine is, indeed overrun with kobolds. We were able to route them several times away from the entrance shaft. But they have obviously had time built up traps throughout the primary shafts. We lost one of our men in an ambush by the things. But they are loathe to enter the sunlight and are firmly entrenched within the mine’s second and third levels. Here and here.” Sergeant Borsem pointed to two places on a map, obviously, of the mine’s shafts. “And with their being there for nearly a month, according to the local miners, there’s no telling what adjustments to the tunnels they’ve had time to make.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Duor shook his head knowingly. “Yeah. Yappers can dig almost as effectively as dwarves. If they weren’t such bloody cowards, not to mention idiots, they’d be dangerous.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Excuse me,” one of the middle-aged raggard looking locals interjected softly, “but did Afran stay in Bridgetower? I thought he’d be returning with you.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Borsem looked at the companions, seemingly as curious for an answer. “This is Afran’s father, Garen.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Who’s Afran?” Haelan questioned innocently. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Alaria wanted to smack the halfling. She turned to Erevan with a pleading look. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Borsem looked at the raggard looking man with worry but held his chin firm. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“The messenger!” said Garen. “The one who brought you word of our plight. He is alright isn’t he?” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“I’m afraid, goodman, your son did not reach Bridgetower.” Fen said cooly. “We are here at the behest of the good Captain Rynthis to find the reason for his squads lack of communication or return.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Alaria shot Fen a disapproving look. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]The man, Garen, who it turned out was one of the farmers, broke down in sorrow. Haelan did his best to console the man and others of the assembled rabble offered their condolences and kind words. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Another older gentleman, the innkeeper Berfle apparently, brought the distraught father a large silver cup of some strong liquor and sat with the man. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Well, that explains why it took the Tower so long to send help.” Borsem said solemnly. “Are there more coming?” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Sergeant,” Coerraine piped in, “how have kobolds been able to create such a panic here…even in the daytime? What are their numbers?” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Borsem nodded and paused a moment. He had to wrap his mind around the fact that the messenger had not made it through to the Tower and these would-be reinforcements really knew nothing of what was going on. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“It’s not the kobolds.” The sergeant began. “We, the initial squad and these brave townsfolk, ventured into the mine to discern the precise nature of the threat…not even the day after we arrived. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“The kobolds are, indeed, there as I noted.” He pointed at the mine map again. “We engaged a few small groups of them. They were stalwart but easily enough routed. As the night drew over the town, a large force of kobolds we were about to engage retreated without apparent reason. We pursued them, believing our victory assured. Then, they came out. Up from one of the tunnels. We had to fight for our lives to get back to the town. Many lives were lost in our retreat. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Since then, we’ve not dared to venture back into the mines. But every night, at sundown, they now venture further and further out of the mine.” The sergeant paused a moment, lost in his own thoughts. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“It’s our fault Afran’s dead.” He said quietly. “It was near sundown when we sent him out, but we were assured he was the fastest young man in the village. I thought…well, Sergeant Hepbert was still in command at the time…but we thought that he’d be far enough away from the village before night fell to get back to Bridgetower.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“What are [I]‘they’[/I], sergeant?” Erevan asked what all of the party was thinking with his usual emotionless candor. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Monstrous cannibals? Ghouls? Demons? We don’t know what they are.” Borsem admitted. “They reak of death. A fearsome odor that makes all but the most stalwart fall ill. They attack with raking talons. Their touch immobilizes any they touch. There’s a whole pack of them…at least a dozen from what we can tell. They fall upon those immobilized and tear them to shreds in moments. They are…inhuman. Unnatural creatures.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Fen’s earlier assertion echoed in all of the party’s minds. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Every nightfall, they move further and further into the town. Seeking out any unfortunate enough to be caught unawares. We instituted a curfew on the third day. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“The sergeant decreed that only those willing to volunteer to engage them need leave the security of their homes. But two nights of that and we were sorely losing men. When there were none to engage them out of doors, they began assaulting the homes and businesses themselves. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“The clerics of Dunric at the shrine near the mine entrance were entirely massacred. We’ve only a single acolyte left who fled to the square for our aid. He’s near useless. In battle-shock, I suppose. We keep him in the cellars with the women and children who have come here for protection. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Any who are wounded by the creatures fall into a hideous fever which we’ve learned rouses them the following night as one of the creatures. So…” the sergeant paused, unsure how to share the information. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“It was not long before we realized that any wounded had to be...disposed of regardless of how slight the injury.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Alaria gave an audible gasp at the news. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“It has been…a difficult week since Sergeant Hepbert instituted that policy. It is why I am sergeant now.” Borsem finished, not able to meet the gaze of any of the companions. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Yer in luck then,” piped up Festus in as cheery a tone as he could muster. “Cuz now yeh’ve got not just a Hilltender of Faerantha, but a paladin of Celradorn, one of the Ancient Order, and the Stormrider, herself! Ghouls or demons, yeh’ve got the full force of a proper R’Hathi magess at yer defense now.” Festus smiled broadly, obviously believing every word he said, at Alaria. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Alaria was horrified at the vote of confidence. A full Magess I might be, Alaria thought, but I’ve no ritual for dealing with demons…or ghouls for that matter! [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Haelan just stood agape, also in horror. “I…I…I’m not…ghouls? Hillmother forfend…I don’t…” the cleric’s stammering wiped any look of hope or welcome from the assembled haggard survivors. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Coerraine came to the rescue of his companions, and his, reputation. “Of course we will do everything we can to protect the village and rid it of this evil.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Surprisingly, Fen strode with purpose to stand beside the paladin. He spoke with all seriousness, “These unnatural abominations will be cleansed from the world. The Balance will be restored.” [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Coerraine found himself inwardly admiring the “heathen’s” certitude. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“Well, count me out. I’m stayin’ here.” said Duor casually before taking a gulp of a mug of ale he’d helped himself to while the others had been gabbering. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]“If you’ll excuse us, Sergeant Borsem, is there some place my companions and I might conference privately.” Alaria interjected. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Bosrem directed them to one of the rooms upstairs that he knew was vacant. The companions took their leave of the first floor. [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Duor brought the mug of ale with him. “Send one of these up in a few, will you? I’ve a feelin’ it’s gonna be a good day to drink.” the dwarf said offhandedly to the innkeeper who was consoling the bereft Garen.[/FONT][FONT=Verdana] [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]"Make that two!" called Festus, already ascending the stairs.[/FONT][FONT=Verdana] [/FONT] [FONT=Verdana]Both requests were met with a scowl neither the dwarf nor satyr noticed.[/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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