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The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 4283364" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 6, Part 1</p><p> </p><p>-Notes: We played session 31 last night, ending the campaign in a suitably epic fashion. So, this story has an end, 25 sessions from now...-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Harold walked into the barracks and dropped the satchel full of documents he had salvaged from the raft camp on Lieutenant Laris's desk. Laris looked at them for a moment, then to Harold's grim, dusty, form, clothing slashed and crusted here and there with dried blood.</p><p> </p><p>"We destroyed the camp where they were making the rafts. I counted forty-six dead, plus eight of their war-beasts. Twelve of them had these iron-ring necklaces," he said, setting them on the desk with a metallic <em>clink</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Laris blinked and ruffled through the satchel for a moment, then stopped and stared at Harold with his mouth agape. "The four of you killed forty-six hobgoblin raiders <em>and</em> eight war beasts?"</p><p> </p><p>Harold nodded wearily. "Yes, though two of our companions died, the woman and the dwarf. I hope the information there is worth it."</p><p> </p><p>Harold turned to leave, grabbing the iron-ring necklaces off the table as he turned, but Laris stood quickly and grabbed his arm. "Wait! You.. you all have the thanks of Northmand, of course. I'm sorry for your companions. We will hold a public burial for them in the morning. Recognize them as heroes."</p><p> </p><p>"Their bodies lie in the Ragged Hills. You may hold a funeral for them, but not a burial." Harold turned to leave again but Laris stopped him again.</p><p> </p><p>"I know you must be exhausted from the battle and your travels, but there is someone you should meet," Laris said, gesturing towards a figure asleep in one of the bunks nearby. </p><p> </p><p>Laris walked over and nudged the figure with his boot. There was some indistinct grumbling and the figure pulled the blanket away and stood up.</p><p> </p><p>Harold instinctively took a step back and reached for his bow, nocking and leveling an arrow in the span of a heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Guntl and Stabber sat beside the Carriage, playing cards on an overturned bucket in the fading light. They paused when Suniel approached and Guntl stood.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey Boss, how'd it go?" Guntl said, shaking Suniel's hand.</p><p> </p><p>Suniel sighed and shook his head. "We were victorious, but at a steep price. Ming and Ilsa are dead. If you'll excuse me, I need some time alone."</p><p> </p><p>Without waiting for reply, Suniel stepped over the card-strewn bucket, pulled open the carriage door, and climbed inside.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek Stone entered the long, low building that he assumed was the local tavern. Thunder rumbled outside and he glanced back at the dark clouds skudding across the moon.</p><p> </p><p>"Greywarden, huh?" An old dwarf that Kezzek took to be the tavernkeep said, walking over with a serving tray in one hand and glancing at the huge gray metal gauntlet that covered Kezzek's whole arm and shoulder. "Don't see many of your type around here."</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek grunted and scanned the room quickly. Three figures wrapped in dark cloaks sat in one corner, outsiders from the way the dozen-or-so locals avoided them. He took a seat at the bar where he could keep an eye on them and turned to the dwarf.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm looking for a woman."</p><p> </p><p>The tavernkeep chuckled as he set the tray down on the bar and wiped his hands with a rag. "If you're looking for orc women here, you're out of luck friend."</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek looked at him sharply and growled. "I am a half-orc, not an orc."</p><p> </p><p>The dwarf raised his hands and took a step back. "I meant no offense, Greywarden, just making light is all."</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek grunted again and set down a coin on the bar. "I'll have whatever you have available for dinner." </p><p></p><p>He glanced back at the far table where the cloaked figures were leaning together in close, hushed conversation, then turned to looked out the door as the rain began to patter down.</p><p> </p><p>The dwarf brought him a crust of bread, a steaming bowl of stew and a tin mug full of some frothy drink. Kezzek took bite of bread and gulped some stew. He followed the dwarf's gaze back to the figures in back. "Who are they?" Kezzek said with a nod in their direction.</p><p> </p><p>"Not sure, they showed up a bit after dark. Give me a bad feeling," the tavernkeep said, fidgeting and not looking directly at them.</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek grunted and took a sip of his drink. "I'll keep an eye on them. Anyway, I was asking about a woman earlier, big, long silver hair, murderer."</p><p> </p><p>"Murderer?" The dwarf shook his head. "No no, we had a trial by combat here a couple days ago and she proved herself innocent."</p><p> </p><p>"Trail by combat? So she's here then?" Kezzek said, suddenly intent on the dwarf.</p><p> </p><p>The tavernkeep looked down at the bar. "No, more's the pity. She was a good customer and fought hard for the town, for Northmand. She died fighting hobgoblins in the Ragged Hills not a day past."</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek growled to himself and picked at one of his tusks for a moment before reaching into his travel sack and pulling out his journal. He slid his meal aside, set his journal on the bar and dug around until he found his ink bottle and quill. When he had it all set out on the bar he turned to the dwarf again and cleared his throat. "Tell me everything you know about the events surrounding Ming's death."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harold had put his bow away but still didn't trust the hobgoblin.</p><p> </p><p>"How do you know he isn't just a spy?" he said, looking the hobgoblin up and down again. The hobgoblin wore heavy armor and had a longsword of obvious hobgoblin make strapped to his side as he lounged in Laris's chair.</p><p> </p><p>"It's a risk we're willing to take. Look, he says he'll lead us to Chieftain Neergrog." Laris nodded as Harold's gaze shot to him. "Yeah, that one, the one all the reports are made out to. Grok'nar here says he's one of Neergrog's cousins or something."</p><p> </p><p>Harold snorted. "Neergrog's cousin? Doesn't that in itself make you a bit suspicious?"</p><p> </p><p>Grok'nar yawned and spoke in rough Common. "Neergrog saw me as a threat and tried to have me killed. I didn't like the idea much or the idea of dying for the High King in some war against the humans." He shrugged. "Maybe this way, Neergrog dies and we stop the war Neergrog and his Iron-ring cronies are pushing for before it starts and I have to get killed in it."</p><p> </p><p>"Iron-ring?" Harold and Laris at the same time. Harold pulled the bundle of necklaces from his belt and held them out to Grok'nar.</p><p> </p><p>Grok'nar looked at them and then cooly at Harold. "Been killing some hobgoblins have we?" he said. "At least you killed some of the right ones. The Iron-rings are the High-King's underlings, sends them to keep an eye on the other tribes, make sure we're all doing what he wants. Keep us in line you see."</p><p> </p><p>Harold stood, weariness suddenly overtaking him. "We can talk about this all later. I'm going to go get something warm to eat and sleep in a soft bed."</p><p> </p><p>He nodded to Laris and walked out. When he reached the inn, he glanced back to see the hobgoblin following him.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek finished jotting the tavernkeep's statement and closed his book. "I'll need to talk with this Suniel Au and Harold Trisden of course. You know where I might find them?"</p><p> </p><p>"The wizard's probably in that big black carriage of his," the dwarf said and pointed across the room. "Harold is that one over there by the fire, he walked a few minutes ago while we were here talking - along with that one that cleared out half my commons. No matter what Laris says, I can't bring myself to trust a hobgoblin." </p><p> </p><p>Kezzek nodded and glanced up, his gaze pausing at the corner table. One of the figures there had pulled his hood back, his skin sickly pale in the flickering firelight of the fireplace and the lanterns. Their eyes met, the other smiled faintly, and Kezzek felt a knot of fear in the human half of him that clashed with a blaze of rage from his orc side.</p><p> </p><p>"Get out of here," Kezzek said to the dwarf as he walked quickly to the door. It was all he could do to not run.</p><p> </p><p>Once he was outside he turned the corner of the inn - soaked to the bone before he had taken ten steps - and ran full-tilt towards the barracks he had noticed when he arrived in town.</p><p> </p><p>He hurled the door open, startling a young blond man in a Northmand officer's uniform sitting at a table strewn with papers. The young officer stood up as sleeping guardsmen tumbled from their bunks, reaching for weapons.</p><p> </p><p>"There's an assassin in the inn. Extremely dangerous," he said to the officer, ignoring the others. "He killed four high-ranking Greywardens a few months ago when we tried to apprehend him. You must send a rider to the Greywarden outpost in Northmand, immediately."</p><p> </p><p>The young officer gulped, nodded, and stood, turning to a lean soldier in a nearby bunk. "Tuck, dress quickly and get your horse ready."</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek already had a sheet of parchment out, a hasty message scribbled, and the Greywarden seal set into a dollop of red wax by the time the soldier was dressed. He stuffed the dispatch in a leather scroll case and handed it over. "Make haste. Don't stop for anyone. This assassin could kill anyone - everyone - here on a whim."</p><p> </p><p>The rider gulped as he took the dispatch, glanced at the officer for reassurance, took a deep breath and walked quickly out into the rain.</p><p> </p><p>Kezzek turned to the officer again. "We need to get the people out of the inn. As long as he's here in town he's a threat to-"</p><p> </p><p>He stopped at the sound of a grunt and a splash outside. In one motion he had his double-bladed quor'rel off his back and was out the door.</p><p> </p><p>The second he was out the door a pale-faced shadow was at his side. He felt the press of a blade against his leather armor and froze as the shadow leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Play dead, Greywarden, and we'll let you live."</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Kezzek shifted and slammed one of his quor'rel blades deep into the man's gut and twisted, staggering the man back a few steps.</p><p> </p><p>The man jerked once, staring down at the blade, then looked up. He grinned, blood running between his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>"Wrong move."</p><p> </p><p>The rest happened in a blur, so fast Kezzek didn't even have time to think. One second his blade was six inches into the man's gut, the next the man held him by the neck with one hand, Kezzek's toes dangling in the mud. The man spat blood in Kezzek's face and slammed a dagger into his side.</p><p> </p><p>The pain tore through Kezzek like lightning and the world began to fade into the sudden roar of the rain. He only half-felt himself flying through the air, discarded like a doll. Then he slammed into the wall of the barracks and landed hard, his side blazing where his blood poured out into the water and mud.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 4283364, member: 60965"] Session 6, Part 1 -Notes: We played session 31 last night, ending the campaign in a suitably epic fashion. So, this story has an end, 25 sessions from now...- Harold walked into the barracks and dropped the satchel full of documents he had salvaged from the raft camp on Lieutenant Laris's desk. Laris looked at them for a moment, then to Harold's grim, dusty, form, clothing slashed and crusted here and there with dried blood. "We destroyed the camp where they were making the rafts. I counted forty-six dead, plus eight of their war-beasts. Twelve of them had these iron-ring necklaces," he said, setting them on the desk with a metallic [I]clink[/I]. Laris blinked and ruffled through the satchel for a moment, then stopped and stared at Harold with his mouth agape. "The four of you killed forty-six hobgoblin raiders [I]and[/I] eight war beasts?" Harold nodded wearily. "Yes, though two of our companions died, the woman and the dwarf. I hope the information there is worth it." Harold turned to leave, grabbing the iron-ring necklaces off the table as he turned, but Laris stood quickly and grabbed his arm. "Wait! You.. you all have the thanks of Northmand, of course. I'm sorry for your companions. We will hold a public burial for them in the morning. Recognize them as heroes." "Their bodies lie in the Ragged Hills. You may hold a funeral for them, but not a burial." Harold turned to leave again but Laris stopped him again. "I know you must be exhausted from the battle and your travels, but there is someone you should meet," Laris said, gesturing towards a figure asleep in one of the bunks nearby. Laris walked over and nudged the figure with his boot. There was some indistinct grumbling and the figure pulled the blanket away and stood up. Harold instinctively took a step back and reached for his bow, nocking and leveling an arrow in the span of a heartbeat. *** Guntl and Stabber sat beside the Carriage, playing cards on an overturned bucket in the fading light. They paused when Suniel approached and Guntl stood. "Hey Boss, how'd it go?" Guntl said, shaking Suniel's hand. Suniel sighed and shook his head. "We were victorious, but at a steep price. Ming and Ilsa are dead. If you'll excuse me, I need some time alone." Without waiting for reply, Suniel stepped over the card-strewn bucket, pulled open the carriage door, and climbed inside. *** Kezzek Stone entered the long, low building that he assumed was the local tavern. Thunder rumbled outside and he glanced back at the dark clouds skudding across the moon. "Greywarden, huh?" An old dwarf that Kezzek took to be the tavernkeep said, walking over with a serving tray in one hand and glancing at the huge gray metal gauntlet that covered Kezzek's whole arm and shoulder. "Don't see many of your type around here." Kezzek grunted and scanned the room quickly. Three figures wrapped in dark cloaks sat in one corner, outsiders from the way the dozen-or-so locals avoided them. He took a seat at the bar where he could keep an eye on them and turned to the dwarf. "I'm looking for a woman." The tavernkeep chuckled as he set the tray down on the bar and wiped his hands with a rag. "If you're looking for orc women here, you're out of luck friend." Kezzek looked at him sharply and growled. "I am a half-orc, not an orc." The dwarf raised his hands and took a step back. "I meant no offense, Greywarden, just making light is all." Kezzek grunted again and set down a coin on the bar. "I'll have whatever you have available for dinner." He glanced back at the far table where the cloaked figures were leaning together in close, hushed conversation, then turned to looked out the door as the rain began to patter down. The dwarf brought him a crust of bread, a steaming bowl of stew and a tin mug full of some frothy drink. Kezzek took bite of bread and gulped some stew. He followed the dwarf's gaze back to the figures in back. "Who are they?" Kezzek said with a nod in their direction. "Not sure, they showed up a bit after dark. Give me a bad feeling," the tavernkeep said, fidgeting and not looking directly at them. Kezzek grunted and took a sip of his drink. "I'll keep an eye on them. Anyway, I was asking about a woman earlier, big, long silver hair, murderer." "Murderer?" The dwarf shook his head. "No no, we had a trial by combat here a couple days ago and she proved herself innocent." "Trail by combat? So she's here then?" Kezzek said, suddenly intent on the dwarf. The tavernkeep looked down at the bar. "No, more's the pity. She was a good customer and fought hard for the town, for Northmand. She died fighting hobgoblins in the Ragged Hills not a day past." Kezzek growled to himself and picked at one of his tusks for a moment before reaching into his travel sack and pulling out his journal. He slid his meal aside, set his journal on the bar and dug around until he found his ink bottle and quill. When he had it all set out on the bar he turned to the dwarf again and cleared his throat. "Tell me everything you know about the events surrounding Ming's death." *** Harold had put his bow away but still didn't trust the hobgoblin. "How do you know he isn't just a spy?" he said, looking the hobgoblin up and down again. The hobgoblin wore heavy armor and had a longsword of obvious hobgoblin make strapped to his side as he lounged in Laris's chair. "It's a risk we're willing to take. Look, he says he'll lead us to Chieftain Neergrog." Laris nodded as Harold's gaze shot to him. "Yeah, that one, the one all the reports are made out to. Grok'nar here says he's one of Neergrog's cousins or something." Harold snorted. "Neergrog's cousin? Doesn't that in itself make you a bit suspicious?" Grok'nar yawned and spoke in rough Common. "Neergrog saw me as a threat and tried to have me killed. I didn't like the idea much or the idea of dying for the High King in some war against the humans." He shrugged. "Maybe this way, Neergrog dies and we stop the war Neergrog and his Iron-ring cronies are pushing for before it starts and I have to get killed in it." "Iron-ring?" Harold and Laris at the same time. Harold pulled the bundle of necklaces from his belt and held them out to Grok'nar. Grok'nar looked at them and then cooly at Harold. "Been killing some hobgoblins have we?" he said. "At least you killed some of the right ones. The Iron-rings are the High-King's underlings, sends them to keep an eye on the other tribes, make sure we're all doing what he wants. Keep us in line you see." Harold stood, weariness suddenly overtaking him. "We can talk about this all later. I'm going to go get something warm to eat and sleep in a soft bed." He nodded to Laris and walked out. When he reached the inn, he glanced back to see the hobgoblin following him. *** Kezzek finished jotting the tavernkeep's statement and closed his book. "I'll need to talk with this Suniel Au and Harold Trisden of course. You know where I might find them?" "The wizard's probably in that big black carriage of his," the dwarf said and pointed across the room. "Harold is that one over there by the fire, he walked a few minutes ago while we were here talking - along with that one that cleared out half my commons. No matter what Laris says, I can't bring myself to trust a hobgoblin." Kezzek nodded and glanced up, his gaze pausing at the corner table. One of the figures there had pulled his hood back, his skin sickly pale in the flickering firelight of the fireplace and the lanterns. Their eyes met, the other smiled faintly, and Kezzek felt a knot of fear in the human half of him that clashed with a blaze of rage from his orc side. "Get out of here," Kezzek said to the dwarf as he walked quickly to the door. It was all he could do to not run. Once he was outside he turned the corner of the inn - soaked to the bone before he had taken ten steps - and ran full-tilt towards the barracks he had noticed when he arrived in town. He hurled the door open, startling a young blond man in a Northmand officer's uniform sitting at a table strewn with papers. The young officer stood up as sleeping guardsmen tumbled from their bunks, reaching for weapons. "There's an assassin in the inn. Extremely dangerous," he said to the officer, ignoring the others. "He killed four high-ranking Greywardens a few months ago when we tried to apprehend him. You must send a rider to the Greywarden outpost in Northmand, immediately." The young officer gulped, nodded, and stood, turning to a lean soldier in a nearby bunk. "Tuck, dress quickly and get your horse ready." Kezzek already had a sheet of parchment out, a hasty message scribbled, and the Greywarden seal set into a dollop of red wax by the time the soldier was dressed. He stuffed the dispatch in a leather scroll case and handed it over. "Make haste. Don't stop for anyone. This assassin could kill anyone - everyone - here on a whim." The rider gulped as he took the dispatch, glanced at the officer for reassurance, took a deep breath and walked quickly out into the rain. Kezzek turned to the officer again. "We need to get the people out of the inn. As long as he's here in town he's a threat to-" He stopped at the sound of a grunt and a splash outside. In one motion he had his double-bladed quor'rel off his back and was out the door. The second he was out the door a pale-faced shadow was at his side. He felt the press of a blade against his leather armor and froze as the shadow leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Play dead, Greywarden, and we'll let you live." Instead, Kezzek shifted and slammed one of his quor'rel blades deep into the man's gut and twisted, staggering the man back a few steps. The man jerked once, staring down at the blade, then looked up. He grinned, blood running between his teeth. "Wrong move." The rest happened in a blur, so fast Kezzek didn't even have time to think. One second his blade was six inches into the man's gut, the next the man held him by the neck with one hand, Kezzek's toes dangling in the mud. The man spat blood in Kezzek's face and slammed a dagger into his side. The pain tore through Kezzek like lightning and the world began to fade into the sudden roar of the rain. He only half-felt himself flying through the air, discarded like a doll. Then he slammed into the wall of the barracks and landed hard, his side blazing where his blood poured out into the water and mud. [/QUOTE]
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