Lars Frehse
First Post
You can find the stats of the PCs here: http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=27433
Of course, those stats are from a point in the campaign at which they had already evolved a bit. Right now, they are much weaker and less refined, as you will see...
And now, to the story:
Prologue: Departure
It had been an unkind summer for the people of Durrover. The sun had scorched the earth for months now, and the little few rainshowers inbetween had led merely to short relief.
In the little village of Oreirover things didn't look brighter. The well of the village had almost dried out, so that the villagers had to walk up to their Baron's small castle to get any water at all.In better times, there had been a small streamlet between the castle's hill and the village, but it had dried out under the sun's merciless rays, just like it had stripped the peaks of the Kelder mountains, which loomed majestatically to the west, of their white coats.
But the drought wasn't the greatest cause of fear for the villagers of Oreirover this year. Rumors had reached the hamlet that Archduke Traviak of Lageni was mounting yet another offensive against their country. In the past, their village had been spared, but they knew, that it was only a matter of time until the black dragoons would come and lay their village to waste.
Since the Dragoon's dedication to their mundane lords, Archduke Traviak of Lageni and King Virduk of Callastia, was only surpassed by their fervent worship of Chardun the tyrant god, the villagers knew that there was no point in hoping for mercy.
Fearing, that after defeat, the children would become sacrifices to Chardun, the god of slavery and conquest, they had sent them away earlier this year. Most of the children were now in Durrover Town, and the other in villages farer away from the border.
The only children left were the sons of Palek, the blacksmith and Torn, the little half orc boy who came with a half-orc family, that had been hired as added protection. Morte and Jan were 12 and 13 years old, and their father relied on them to help equipping the newly hired mercenaries. The two boys were brothers in all but blood. Jan had been brought into the village by a dying woman, who had been beautiful even in the face of death. And so, while Morte had the stocky build and the dark looks of the people of Durrover and a face that looked like it was stretched too long, Jan looked like an angel, or so the villagers, and especially the girls thought: His face was even and his eyes were bright blue.
The days of Vangalot passed, each one scorching the tormented land with it's merciless heat. Then, one Wildday, news reached the Baron: Duke Traviak had just left the Kelder behind, crossing the only barrier between his Duchy and the free country of Durrover.
Later at night, in one of the rooms of the castle, the Baron summoned Ben, the halfling and Trepat, the elf. The two looked like an odd couple: Ben was a very young halfling, yet his face lacked the smile and the happiness that halflings usually expressed. It was clear that he had already seen too many bad things in his young life. Trepat was a wild elf. And so he was nude except for his loincloth and his bow and his body was tatooed over and over. Still, in spite of his wild experience, he radiated an air of calm and sincerity, that usually won over the people he met.
"Well, I think the two of you know that the situation is grave."
Since the question was merely rhetorical, he spoke on without waiting for an answer:"There is no way we can withstand the forces of Duke Traviak for long. Alas, the villagers have sworn to make a stand, and I am honorbound by birth and position.
I want you two to take care of something. There is a little secret tunnel leading out of here. We suspect that even though the main body of the enemy is still 10 miles away from here, there are scouts around. So, what I want you to do is take the two sons of the smith and the little half orc boy with you and escort them safely to Durrover city."
Ben and Trepat exchanged a quick and puzzled frown, and then Trepat asked: "I accept, of course, and I am grateful for your trust, Sir, but why us?".
Baron Oreirover seemed to expect that question, since he answered straight away:" Well, it was the logical choice, really. I considered one man to be not enough to ensure the kids's safety. I chose you Ben, since you achieved a feat, that seems almost impossible in retrospect: You were a wanted man in Calastia, yet you were able to cross the entire empire, outsmart your hunters, and coming here alive. I value your gift for survival, your cunning and your knowledge of the wild.
With you, Trepat, I know that the children trust you, and that you have the ability to make them do what you want. You are the only one who I suppose can tame Kadum's blood, that is racing through the veins of the youngest one. Furthermore, you too are a survivor and I have the feeling, that even though you are not a local, you would give your life in order to protect the boys.
Here is a letter. I want you to give it to Knight Brassun, the leader of the garrison in Durrover Town. He is a cousin of mine, and a Paladin of Corean- this letter advises him to take the kids under his wing. Maybe they can become soldiers, maybe more. At least the two locals are blacksmiths… He will figure something out, I think…
Well, there is little else I can say now. The fathers are talking to their boys now, and will send them down to the entrance of the tunnel. Go there now, there are ample provisions for you down there, too.
May Corean hold his shielding hands over you."
In the meantime, Torn’s father woke his youngest son by shaking him roughly.
"Wake up young lad, leave Erias's sweet embrace and come to face your father's rough hand", he laughed.
"What is it, dad?", Torn mumbled sleepily.
"Well, young lad, your family has decided to become heroes, ain't that sumpn?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, an hour ago, Baron Oreirover approached me and made me an offer: He said that there is no need for me and my family to risk their lifes, and that he would understand if we were gone by dawn!" the scarred Half-Orc shouted.
"Thank Erias!" Torn, now wide awake, exclaimed. "So, are we packing now?"
"Yes, you have to pack and get ready now. We other will stay."
"But, why?"
"Well, you know what it has always been like for us. Because we are what we are, we had to live on the move all our lives.Here it was different. The villagers and even the Baron and his
knights treated us well. Still, I was ready to prepare for our departure tonight. After all, this place isn't worth to face certain death for.
But then, the Baron offered me to leave, and I decided to stay. You see, those people ARE worth dying for. He cared enough for us to offer the life he wasn't able to live anymore. So your uncle and I pledged our life to him on an impulse.
HAH! He might be better then most humans, but still, you should have seen his face!" he cackled.
"Then,", Torn said, swallowing down the fierce tears that kept coming, "I will fight and die with you".
His father shook his head sadly:" Fighting and dieing is no business for an eight year old.".
"BUT DAAAAAD..:"
Torn was interrupted by his father grabbing his shoulders:" Listen son, before I have to smack you! There is nothing you can do, but the Baron offered to have you snuck out of here! And you know that we don't fear death. And we will see again, even if it is only in the
realms of dreaming. Erias will allow us to keep in touch- don't think I would leave my only son like that.
But there is something else I want you to know, and I want you to listen very well.
I have often told you about your granddad, my father, and what a great thief he was. Now, I will tell you what little I know about how he aquired his skills. Once, when he was already a skilled rogue, he took a job from an organization called “The cult of ancients” or “The guild of the ancients”, or something along these lines. They wanted him to get them a book called “The power of death”. Your graddad succeeded, but before he handed it over to those cultists, he read it himself. And he found out that it gave him powers far beyond his previous abilities. It turned him into a true master of life and death.
He disappeared when I was a young lad, but I remember, that he told me that he brought the book to a man in Mithril, the city of Paladins and that huge statue they have there.”
He hugged his son one last time, and handed him a dagger:” Here, take this. You never know whether you will need a weapon.”
In another chamber of the keep, Jan and Morte were being woken up by their father, the smith:
“Hey, lads, you know, defending the keep and rebuilding the village once we turned the Dragoons away will be a job for grown ups. I want you to go to Durrover Town in the meantime.”
Old Palek was a good man, but a bad liar, so both sons felt that his good cheer was only there in order to calm them. Right away, both sons objected, but their father ordered them to be silent and obey.
“I know that it is not Corean’s will that the two of you will become just two more sacrifical lambs to his brother, Chardun. Both of you will go with the halfling and the elf, they will lead you. While you are at it, I want you to take care of the little half-orc boy. He will be even lonelier then you, for you will have each other.”
Both brother nodded, desperately trying to keep from crying.
“Jan, there is one last unfinished business I have to deal with. You know that you and your mother have always loved you like we love your brother, even though you are not our own flesh. There is something I have to show you.”
The smith rummaged through his satchel and after a short while handed a small medallion over to Jan:” When your mother dropped you at our doorstep with only a few more breaths left in her diseased body, she handed not only you, being still a toddler then, over to my Wife, but also this amulet. As you can see, there is the shape of a closed eye on it. Now, I don’t know what it means, but it is the only wordly possession your mother left you.”
And then, with a firm hug, he dismissed the boys.
When all five of them had arrived in the cellar, Trepat lead the way into the dark passage that took them away from the castle. After ten minutes, they exited the tunnel and marched silently to the northeast.
In the morning, the sky was still dark and for the first time in weeks, it looked like rain. And then, just as as the first drops started to fall, Ben looked over his shoulder and saw smoke coming from a few miles back. He intended to not point it out to the kids, who looked sad enough already, but just a few more minutes later, Torn noticed at, and shouted: “Look, there!”.
As they all turned around, they now saw a spectacular sight. Hundreds of small fiery streaks flew through the dark sky. Where they hit, there was soon another collumn of smoke.
“My dad told me about this!”, Torn blurted out excitedly, “The black dragoons use magical crossbows that set their bolts on fire and strike fear into the heart of their enemies!”.
Only then did he seem to realize that his own dad was one of those enemies now, and his face darkened.
They started to walk again, trying not to look back, and their tears mixed with the rain.
By noon, they reached a path- so far, they had been careful to avoid roads and paths, fearing soldiers could patrol them. After a short talk, Trepat and Ben decided to take the path. They had covered a couple of miles already, and if they would go on walking cross country, their supplies wouldn’t last.
So, they walked along the path, and the rain kept on pouring, as all of a sudden two foot soldiers with drawn swords stepped into their path.
”Well, well, well, my little kiddoes, what have we her?”, chanted one of them and the other one added: “OK, Elf, halfling, we only want the kids. You are free to go.”.
Ben was the first to react, and he said only one word, as he loaded his sling: “No.”.
Everything happened rather quick afterwards.
The soldier who chanted stepped forward and slashed his sword at Trepat, who avoided the blade by stepping backwards. Jan, who stood at his side, pulled out his shortsword and stabbed it at the man’s leg. Blood gushed out of the wound and Trepat raised his hand to channel arcane energy at the enemy. A bolt of light hit the man, but before either one, the elf or the man, were able to figure out what had happened, Morte was there, shoving his dagger through the leather armor into the soldier’s chest.
Meanwhile, Torn had charged the other soldier with his dagger, catching him by surprise. The soldier slashed at the little half orc and then turned to run, but the boy felt Kadum’s blood raging in his veins and threw his dagger at the back of his adversary. He struck, and the man fell flat on his face.
The moment he smashed on the ground, the boy was already over him, stabbing his dagger repeatedly into the corpse, over and over. He didn’t care whether this man was dead or alive, Torn felt like he had caught Traviak himself and was able to avenge his family’s death. (Or whatever it was fate had had in store for them.).
“It’s alright”, Ben said, touching Torn on the soldier. The little boy turned around, and Ben saw tears of rage and sorrow streaking down his cheeks. “Take the sword, if you want to, but we should move on. If there were two, there could be more.”.
They marched on, and at night, none of them slept well, except for Torn, who’s request to dream to let him sleep in peace was answered.
When the kids had fallen asleep, Ben said to Trepat:” I didn’t know you were a sorceror”.
“Neither did I. There were some sorcerors in my family, though, so maybe I inherited the gift. I think I will delve into this once we brought the kids into town. They will all make good soldiers, I think.”
Ben nodded in agreement:” Yes. They were all rather fierce for young kids… There was something else I noticed. The blond boy’s amulet. When he hit that soldier, it looked like he would miss at first. But then the amulet sparkled, and he hit…”
”Strange… Those are strange times we live in. Listen, you can sleep now, I will watch out. There is a lot I have to think about.”
Ben didn’t need an invitation: he turned around and fell asleep.
The next day, they met other refugees who also went to Durrover town, and feeling safety in numbers, they joined them. And the day after that, they had reached their sancuary: Durrover, a town that was already crowded with refugees.
Of course, those stats are from a point in the campaign at which they had already evolved a bit. Right now, they are much weaker and less refined, as you will see...
And now, to the story:
Prologue: Departure
It had been an unkind summer for the people of Durrover. The sun had scorched the earth for months now, and the little few rainshowers inbetween had led merely to short relief.
In the little village of Oreirover things didn't look brighter. The well of the village had almost dried out, so that the villagers had to walk up to their Baron's small castle to get any water at all.In better times, there had been a small streamlet between the castle's hill and the village, but it had dried out under the sun's merciless rays, just like it had stripped the peaks of the Kelder mountains, which loomed majestatically to the west, of their white coats.
But the drought wasn't the greatest cause of fear for the villagers of Oreirover this year. Rumors had reached the hamlet that Archduke Traviak of Lageni was mounting yet another offensive against their country. In the past, their village had been spared, but they knew, that it was only a matter of time until the black dragoons would come and lay their village to waste.
Since the Dragoon's dedication to their mundane lords, Archduke Traviak of Lageni and King Virduk of Callastia, was only surpassed by their fervent worship of Chardun the tyrant god, the villagers knew that there was no point in hoping for mercy.
Fearing, that after defeat, the children would become sacrifices to Chardun, the god of slavery and conquest, they had sent them away earlier this year. Most of the children were now in Durrover Town, and the other in villages farer away from the border.
The only children left were the sons of Palek, the blacksmith and Torn, the little half orc boy who came with a half-orc family, that had been hired as added protection. Morte and Jan were 12 and 13 years old, and their father relied on them to help equipping the newly hired mercenaries. The two boys were brothers in all but blood. Jan had been brought into the village by a dying woman, who had been beautiful even in the face of death. And so, while Morte had the stocky build and the dark looks of the people of Durrover and a face that looked like it was stretched too long, Jan looked like an angel, or so the villagers, and especially the girls thought: His face was even and his eyes were bright blue.
The days of Vangalot passed, each one scorching the tormented land with it's merciless heat. Then, one Wildday, news reached the Baron: Duke Traviak had just left the Kelder behind, crossing the only barrier between his Duchy and the free country of Durrover.
Later at night, in one of the rooms of the castle, the Baron summoned Ben, the halfling and Trepat, the elf. The two looked like an odd couple: Ben was a very young halfling, yet his face lacked the smile and the happiness that halflings usually expressed. It was clear that he had already seen too many bad things in his young life. Trepat was a wild elf. And so he was nude except for his loincloth and his bow and his body was tatooed over and over. Still, in spite of his wild experience, he radiated an air of calm and sincerity, that usually won over the people he met.
"Well, I think the two of you know that the situation is grave."
Since the question was merely rhetorical, he spoke on without waiting for an answer:"There is no way we can withstand the forces of Duke Traviak for long. Alas, the villagers have sworn to make a stand, and I am honorbound by birth and position.
I want you two to take care of something. There is a little secret tunnel leading out of here. We suspect that even though the main body of the enemy is still 10 miles away from here, there are scouts around. So, what I want you to do is take the two sons of the smith and the little half orc boy with you and escort them safely to Durrover city."
Ben and Trepat exchanged a quick and puzzled frown, and then Trepat asked: "I accept, of course, and I am grateful for your trust, Sir, but why us?".
Baron Oreirover seemed to expect that question, since he answered straight away:" Well, it was the logical choice, really. I considered one man to be not enough to ensure the kids's safety. I chose you Ben, since you achieved a feat, that seems almost impossible in retrospect: You were a wanted man in Calastia, yet you were able to cross the entire empire, outsmart your hunters, and coming here alive. I value your gift for survival, your cunning and your knowledge of the wild.
With you, Trepat, I know that the children trust you, and that you have the ability to make them do what you want. You are the only one who I suppose can tame Kadum's blood, that is racing through the veins of the youngest one. Furthermore, you too are a survivor and I have the feeling, that even though you are not a local, you would give your life in order to protect the boys.
Here is a letter. I want you to give it to Knight Brassun, the leader of the garrison in Durrover Town. He is a cousin of mine, and a Paladin of Corean- this letter advises him to take the kids under his wing. Maybe they can become soldiers, maybe more. At least the two locals are blacksmiths… He will figure something out, I think…
Well, there is little else I can say now. The fathers are talking to their boys now, and will send them down to the entrance of the tunnel. Go there now, there are ample provisions for you down there, too.
May Corean hold his shielding hands over you."
In the meantime, Torn’s father woke his youngest son by shaking him roughly.
"Wake up young lad, leave Erias's sweet embrace and come to face your father's rough hand", he laughed.
"What is it, dad?", Torn mumbled sleepily.
"Well, young lad, your family has decided to become heroes, ain't that sumpn?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, an hour ago, Baron Oreirover approached me and made me an offer: He said that there is no need for me and my family to risk their lifes, and that he would understand if we were gone by dawn!" the scarred Half-Orc shouted.
"Thank Erias!" Torn, now wide awake, exclaimed. "So, are we packing now?"
"Yes, you have to pack and get ready now. We other will stay."
"But, why?"
"Well, you know what it has always been like for us. Because we are what we are, we had to live on the move all our lives.Here it was different. The villagers and even the Baron and his
knights treated us well. Still, I was ready to prepare for our departure tonight. After all, this place isn't worth to face certain death for.
But then, the Baron offered me to leave, and I decided to stay. You see, those people ARE worth dying for. He cared enough for us to offer the life he wasn't able to live anymore. So your uncle and I pledged our life to him on an impulse.
HAH! He might be better then most humans, but still, you should have seen his face!" he cackled.
"Then,", Torn said, swallowing down the fierce tears that kept coming, "I will fight and die with you".
His father shook his head sadly:" Fighting and dieing is no business for an eight year old.".
"BUT DAAAAAD..:"
Torn was interrupted by his father grabbing his shoulders:" Listen son, before I have to smack you! There is nothing you can do, but the Baron offered to have you snuck out of here! And you know that we don't fear death. And we will see again, even if it is only in the
realms of dreaming. Erias will allow us to keep in touch- don't think I would leave my only son like that.
But there is something else I want you to know, and I want you to listen very well.
I have often told you about your granddad, my father, and what a great thief he was. Now, I will tell you what little I know about how he aquired his skills. Once, when he was already a skilled rogue, he took a job from an organization called “The cult of ancients” or “The guild of the ancients”, or something along these lines. They wanted him to get them a book called “The power of death”. Your graddad succeeded, but before he handed it over to those cultists, he read it himself. And he found out that it gave him powers far beyond his previous abilities. It turned him into a true master of life and death.
He disappeared when I was a young lad, but I remember, that he told me that he brought the book to a man in Mithril, the city of Paladins and that huge statue they have there.”
He hugged his son one last time, and handed him a dagger:” Here, take this. You never know whether you will need a weapon.”
In another chamber of the keep, Jan and Morte were being woken up by their father, the smith:
“Hey, lads, you know, defending the keep and rebuilding the village once we turned the Dragoons away will be a job for grown ups. I want you to go to Durrover Town in the meantime.”
Old Palek was a good man, but a bad liar, so both sons felt that his good cheer was only there in order to calm them. Right away, both sons objected, but their father ordered them to be silent and obey.
“I know that it is not Corean’s will that the two of you will become just two more sacrifical lambs to his brother, Chardun. Both of you will go with the halfling and the elf, they will lead you. While you are at it, I want you to take care of the little half-orc boy. He will be even lonelier then you, for you will have each other.”
Both brother nodded, desperately trying to keep from crying.
“Jan, there is one last unfinished business I have to deal with. You know that you and your mother have always loved you like we love your brother, even though you are not our own flesh. There is something I have to show you.”
The smith rummaged through his satchel and after a short while handed a small medallion over to Jan:” When your mother dropped you at our doorstep with only a few more breaths left in her diseased body, she handed not only you, being still a toddler then, over to my Wife, but also this amulet. As you can see, there is the shape of a closed eye on it. Now, I don’t know what it means, but it is the only wordly possession your mother left you.”
And then, with a firm hug, he dismissed the boys.
When all five of them had arrived in the cellar, Trepat lead the way into the dark passage that took them away from the castle. After ten minutes, they exited the tunnel and marched silently to the northeast.
In the morning, the sky was still dark and for the first time in weeks, it looked like rain. And then, just as as the first drops started to fall, Ben looked over his shoulder and saw smoke coming from a few miles back. He intended to not point it out to the kids, who looked sad enough already, but just a few more minutes later, Torn noticed at, and shouted: “Look, there!”.
As they all turned around, they now saw a spectacular sight. Hundreds of small fiery streaks flew through the dark sky. Where they hit, there was soon another collumn of smoke.
“My dad told me about this!”, Torn blurted out excitedly, “The black dragoons use magical crossbows that set their bolts on fire and strike fear into the heart of their enemies!”.
Only then did he seem to realize that his own dad was one of those enemies now, and his face darkened.
They started to walk again, trying not to look back, and their tears mixed with the rain.
By noon, they reached a path- so far, they had been careful to avoid roads and paths, fearing soldiers could patrol them. After a short talk, Trepat and Ben decided to take the path. They had covered a couple of miles already, and if they would go on walking cross country, their supplies wouldn’t last.
So, they walked along the path, and the rain kept on pouring, as all of a sudden two foot soldiers with drawn swords stepped into their path.
”Well, well, well, my little kiddoes, what have we her?”, chanted one of them and the other one added: “OK, Elf, halfling, we only want the kids. You are free to go.”.
Ben was the first to react, and he said only one word, as he loaded his sling: “No.”.
Everything happened rather quick afterwards.
The soldier who chanted stepped forward and slashed his sword at Trepat, who avoided the blade by stepping backwards. Jan, who stood at his side, pulled out his shortsword and stabbed it at the man’s leg. Blood gushed out of the wound and Trepat raised his hand to channel arcane energy at the enemy. A bolt of light hit the man, but before either one, the elf or the man, were able to figure out what had happened, Morte was there, shoving his dagger through the leather armor into the soldier’s chest.
Meanwhile, Torn had charged the other soldier with his dagger, catching him by surprise. The soldier slashed at the little half orc and then turned to run, but the boy felt Kadum’s blood raging in his veins and threw his dagger at the back of his adversary. He struck, and the man fell flat on his face.
The moment he smashed on the ground, the boy was already over him, stabbing his dagger repeatedly into the corpse, over and over. He didn’t care whether this man was dead or alive, Torn felt like he had caught Traviak himself and was able to avenge his family’s death. (Or whatever it was fate had had in store for them.).
“It’s alright”, Ben said, touching Torn on the soldier. The little boy turned around, and Ben saw tears of rage and sorrow streaking down his cheeks. “Take the sword, if you want to, but we should move on. If there were two, there could be more.”.
They marched on, and at night, none of them slept well, except for Torn, who’s request to dream to let him sleep in peace was answered.
When the kids had fallen asleep, Ben said to Trepat:” I didn’t know you were a sorceror”.
“Neither did I. There were some sorcerors in my family, though, so maybe I inherited the gift. I think I will delve into this once we brought the kids into town. They will all make good soldiers, I think.”
Ben nodded in agreement:” Yes. They were all rather fierce for young kids… There was something else I noticed. The blond boy’s amulet. When he hit that soldier, it looked like he would miss at first. But then the amulet sparkled, and he hit…”
”Strange… Those are strange times we live in. Listen, you can sleep now, I will watch out. There is a lot I have to think about.”
Ben didn’t need an invitation: he turned around and fell asleep.
The next day, they met other refugees who also went to Durrover town, and feeling safety in numbers, they joined them. And the day after that, they had reached their sancuary: Durrover, a town that was already crowded with refugees.
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I'm definately enjoying this ALOT!
