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Travels through the Wild West: a Forgotten Realms Story
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4185" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Part 15 </p><p></p><p>The fort was deceptively quiet, but they knew that enemies still lurked inside. They could feel the eyes watching the forest from inside the watchtowers, and to Benzan and Delem it was almost as if the place itself was waiting, a malevolent entity with hostile intent. </p><p></p><p>Benzan had thought that they’d be able to catch the heavily armored cleric, but he’d had too great a lead. Even as they’d neared the fort they could hear the sound of the gate being closed, and rather than rush in blindly, they’d faded into the forest edge to await their companions. </p><p></p><p>Benzan turned as he heard a noise from down the path. It was Telwarden, clearly pushing himself as he ran despite the weight of his heavy armor and weapons. For a moment Benzan thought he would run right into the clearing toward the fort, but at the last moment the sheriff spotted Benzan’s urgent signaling and he veered into the shelter of the brush. His face was bright red from his efforts, and his breath came in short gasps. At that moment his age showed more than in the entire time they’d known him, but his determination had not flagged in the slightest. </p><p></p><p>“We… we’ve got to attack… can’t give them time…”</p><p></p><p>“We’ll wait for the others,” Benzan said firmly. “You rest and catch your breath—you’ll be no good in a fight if you can barely stand up.”</p><p></p><p>Telwarden glared at him, but said nothing. The next few minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but finally they could hear Lok and Calloran, moving steadily up the trail. Benzan signaled to them and within a few moments they were all clustered amidst the brush, watching the fort. </p><p></p><p>“We left Cullan and the freed slaves back at the mine,” Cal said at Benzan’s inquiring look. “They wouldn’t be much use in this sort of thing, anyway.”</p><p></p><p>“The question now, is how we are going to get inside,” Lok said pragmatically.</p><p></p><p>“There can’t be many left in the garrison,” Telwarden chimed in, his voice much more normal now. “A quick attack is the best option, in my view.”</p><p></p><p>“And how were you planning on getting over the walls?” Cal asked.</p><p></p><p>“I think I can manage that,” Benzan said. He had been staring intently at the stockade, as if figuring out the pieces of a puzzle in his mind. “But it’s those guard towers that worry me. I can’t quite make out who’s inside them, but they’ve got excellent cover, and a clear field of fire all around the fort.”</p><p></p><p>“It looks like there are two hobgoblins in each,” Delem said, squinting. “I can’t quite make out the far one.”</p><p></p><p>Benzan looked at him. “You’ve got good eyes,” he said. Turning to the others, he said, “All right, I think I can handle the near tower, at least enough for me to get over the wall. But once I clear the edge, whoever’s in that second tower is going to have an easy shot at me.” Not to mention whoever’s inside the fort, he thought to himself.</p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry, but I’ve used just about all of my spells already,” Cal said.</p><p></p><p>“What about that sleep wand?” Benzan asked.</p><p></p><p>“That would work,” Cal said. “But its range is too limited to use it from here. It would have to be taken closer…”</p><p></p><p>They turned to Delem. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded. “I’ll go,” he said. “My legs are a lot longer than Cal’s, anyway.”</p><p></p><p>Benzan nodded. “All right then. Stay behind me; we’ll take an angle so that the first tower blocks the line of fire of the second as we approach. Once I start climbing the wall, take out the second tower.”</p><p></p><p>“Here, take this,” Lok said, offering his shield to Benzan.</p><p></p><p>“Thanks. Ready, Delem?” At the sorcerer’s nod, Benzan turned to the others. “Follow us out when we’re half-way to the wall. If I can’t get the doors open, you may have to get back in a hurry…”</p><p></p><p>“Just get them open,” Telwarden said gravely. “We’ll do the rest.”</p><p></p><p>They each felt the pressure of passing time as they hurried into position. It was hard to believe that less than ten minutes in all had passed since the end of the battle at the mine, but with the fate of Lady Ilgarten hanging in the balance, even a few seconds felt precious. </p><p></p><p>Benzan crawled up to the very edge of the concealing undegrowth, and set an arrow to his bow. Rising slowly he drew and sighted, and called upon the innate power of his mixed ancestry.</p><p></p><p>With the power came memory. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>“You’re nothing but a worthless half-breed!” Malak cried, taunting the scrawny little boy trapped in an accusatory circle of his peers. </p><p></p><p>Benzan had always known he was different. There were the little things, like the way that he could see so clearly in the dark, and the way he could hold a piece of burning pitch in his hand and not feel any pain from the fire. But mostly it was the way that people always looked at him, the perception that he was just… <em>wrong…</em></p><p></p><p>The boys closed in around him, jeering and pushing. Fear and anger were both present in their eyes, but the scared youth saw only danger there. Danger for him. </p><p></p><p>“Let me go!” he shouted. “I never hurt you!”</p><p></p><p>“Freak!” Malak yelled, striking him with a painful punch to the shoulder. That action was a trigger for the others, who began pounding on him from all sides. </p><p></p><p>“Let me go!” Benzan cried out again, as pain shot through his body. “Let me GO!” </p><p></p><p>As he spoke the last word, something snapped inside him. He felt power flow from his body, a magical legacy from a father he’d never known, a power that he’d never asked for nor desired. A globe of pure darkness appeared around him, enveloping the knot of suddenly startled boys. Alarmed cries filled the dark, accompanied by the clatter of bodies as boys tripped over each other in the confusion. </p><p></p><p>Out of it the darkness came Benzan, running for safety. </p><p></p><p>Always running.</p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Forcing down the unwelcome memories, Benzan called upon the power, focusing it on the steel tip of his arrow. As the darkness bloomed into being all around him, he closed his eyes and visualized the target, letting the arrow fly toward the distant tower. The world suddenly reappeared around him as the globe of darkness stayed with the arrow, floating across the open space to thud into the peak of the stockade wall, just ten feet below the top of the watchtower. The guards in that tower were now effectively blind. </p><p></p><p>“Let’s go!” he yelled to Delem, and started across the open ground. </p><p></p><p>The hobgoblins had been expecting an attack, but there was no way that the two sentries in the tower could respond effectively as Benzan and Delem sprinted across the open space between the forest edge and the stockade wall. Shouts of alarm came both from the darkness and from the other tower on the opposite side of the fort, but no missiles came at them from inside.</p><p></p><p>As they reached the shadow of the stockade wall, Benzan tossed Lok’s shield into the grass and launched himself at the rough wood of the gates. He crawled up the uneven surface quickly as Delem ran to the far corner of the fort, to put the sentries in the other tower to sleep before Benzan reached the top of the wall. One of the hobgoblins saw him as he leaned around the corner, but before he or his companion could target the sorcerer both succumbed to the magic of the wand and fell into unconsciousness. He then turned the wand toward the second tower, where the first of the two hobgoblin sentries within the sphere of darkness had already appeared along the parapet that ran around the interior of the stockade. A few seconds later, those two guards were neutralized as well. </p><p></p><p>Benzan, meanwhile had reached the top of the gate, and levered himself over onto the inner side of the wall. For a moment he expected to hear the hum of bows firing their deadly missiles at his exposed form, but the inner courtyard of the fort seemed to be deserted. He quickly descended halfway down the inside of the gates and dropped the rest of the way to land in the packed earth at their base. The gates were sealed with a wooden beam as thick through as his waist, and he set himself to the difficult task of lifting it free from its frame. </p><p></p><p>Then he heard the shout, followed by the sounds of angry growling behind him, and knew that he was in trouble. </p><p></p><p>Benzan glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar adversary, the hobgoblin adolescent that had fled from their first encounter back at the mine entrance. The creature was standing in the doorway of one of the buildings that lined the inner wall of the stockade, next to a row of kennels fashioned from wooden slats, two of which contained vicious hounds that were even now straining at the gates, slavering and barking in apparent eagerness to set upon this intruder. </p><p></p><p>Benzan and the hobgoblin locked gazes. But even as the tiefling reached for his bow, the hobgoblin dashed over and lifted the latches that held the gates of the kennels closed.</p><p></p><p>Benzan turned back to the gates, and to the heavy bar.</p><p></p><p>“Damn, I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling kid and his dogs,” he said under his breath as he pushed with all his strength against the weight of the bar. He could almost feel the dogs charging across the not-so-great open space of the courtyard toward him, but he focused himself on his task, pouring every last amount of strength he possessed to the task of lifting the bar from its channel. </p><p></p><p>With a final mighty heave, the bar fell free, and the dogs tore into Benzan from behind, dragging him roughly to the ground.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4185, member: 143"] Part 15 The fort was deceptively quiet, but they knew that enemies still lurked inside. They could feel the eyes watching the forest from inside the watchtowers, and to Benzan and Delem it was almost as if the place itself was waiting, a malevolent entity with hostile intent. Benzan had thought that they’d be able to catch the heavily armored cleric, but he’d had too great a lead. Even as they’d neared the fort they could hear the sound of the gate being closed, and rather than rush in blindly, they’d faded into the forest edge to await their companions. Benzan turned as he heard a noise from down the path. It was Telwarden, clearly pushing himself as he ran despite the weight of his heavy armor and weapons. For a moment Benzan thought he would run right into the clearing toward the fort, but at the last moment the sheriff spotted Benzan’s urgent signaling and he veered into the shelter of the brush. His face was bright red from his efforts, and his breath came in short gasps. At that moment his age showed more than in the entire time they’d known him, but his determination had not flagged in the slightest. “We… we’ve got to attack… can’t give them time…” “We’ll wait for the others,” Benzan said firmly. “You rest and catch your breath—you’ll be no good in a fight if you can barely stand up.” Telwarden glared at him, but said nothing. The next few minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but finally they could hear Lok and Calloran, moving steadily up the trail. Benzan signaled to them and within a few moments they were all clustered amidst the brush, watching the fort. “We left Cullan and the freed slaves back at the mine,” Cal said at Benzan’s inquiring look. “They wouldn’t be much use in this sort of thing, anyway.” “The question now, is how we are going to get inside,” Lok said pragmatically. “There can’t be many left in the garrison,” Telwarden chimed in, his voice much more normal now. “A quick attack is the best option, in my view.” “And how were you planning on getting over the walls?” Cal asked. “I think I can manage that,” Benzan said. He had been staring intently at the stockade, as if figuring out the pieces of a puzzle in his mind. “But it’s those guard towers that worry me. I can’t quite make out who’s inside them, but they’ve got excellent cover, and a clear field of fire all around the fort.” “It looks like there are two hobgoblins in each,” Delem said, squinting. “I can’t quite make out the far one.” Benzan looked at him. “You’ve got good eyes,” he said. Turning to the others, he said, “All right, I think I can handle the near tower, at least enough for me to get over the wall. But once I clear the edge, whoever’s in that second tower is going to have an easy shot at me.” Not to mention whoever’s inside the fort, he thought to himself. “I’m sorry, but I’ve used just about all of my spells already,” Cal said. “What about that sleep wand?” Benzan asked. “That would work,” Cal said. “But its range is too limited to use it from here. It would have to be taken closer…” They turned to Delem. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded. “I’ll go,” he said. “My legs are a lot longer than Cal’s, anyway.” Benzan nodded. “All right then. Stay behind me; we’ll take an angle so that the first tower blocks the line of fire of the second as we approach. Once I start climbing the wall, take out the second tower.” “Here, take this,” Lok said, offering his shield to Benzan. “Thanks. Ready, Delem?” At the sorcerer’s nod, Benzan turned to the others. “Follow us out when we’re half-way to the wall. If I can’t get the doors open, you may have to get back in a hurry…” “Just get them open,” Telwarden said gravely. “We’ll do the rest.” They each felt the pressure of passing time as they hurried into position. It was hard to believe that less than ten minutes in all had passed since the end of the battle at the mine, but with the fate of Lady Ilgarten hanging in the balance, even a few seconds felt precious. Benzan crawled up to the very edge of the concealing undegrowth, and set an arrow to his bow. Rising slowly he drew and sighted, and called upon the innate power of his mixed ancestry. With the power came memory. * * * * * “You’re nothing but a worthless half-breed!” Malak cried, taunting the scrawny little boy trapped in an accusatory circle of his peers. Benzan had always known he was different. There were the little things, like the way that he could see so clearly in the dark, and the way he could hold a piece of burning pitch in his hand and not feel any pain from the fire. But mostly it was the way that people always looked at him, the perception that he was just… [I]wrong…[/I] The boys closed in around him, jeering and pushing. Fear and anger were both present in their eyes, but the scared youth saw only danger there. Danger for him. “Let me go!” he shouted. “I never hurt you!” “Freak!” Malak yelled, striking him with a painful punch to the shoulder. That action was a trigger for the others, who began pounding on him from all sides. “Let me go!” Benzan cried out again, as pain shot through his body. “Let me GO!” As he spoke the last word, something snapped inside him. He felt power flow from his body, a magical legacy from a father he’d never known, a power that he’d never asked for nor desired. A globe of pure darkness appeared around him, enveloping the knot of suddenly startled boys. Alarmed cries filled the dark, accompanied by the clatter of bodies as boys tripped over each other in the confusion. Out of it the darkness came Benzan, running for safety. Always running. * * * * * Forcing down the unwelcome memories, Benzan called upon the power, focusing it on the steel tip of his arrow. As the darkness bloomed into being all around him, he closed his eyes and visualized the target, letting the arrow fly toward the distant tower. The world suddenly reappeared around him as the globe of darkness stayed with the arrow, floating across the open space to thud into the peak of the stockade wall, just ten feet below the top of the watchtower. The guards in that tower were now effectively blind. “Let’s go!” he yelled to Delem, and started across the open ground. The hobgoblins had been expecting an attack, but there was no way that the two sentries in the tower could respond effectively as Benzan and Delem sprinted across the open space between the forest edge and the stockade wall. Shouts of alarm came both from the darkness and from the other tower on the opposite side of the fort, but no missiles came at them from inside. As they reached the shadow of the stockade wall, Benzan tossed Lok’s shield into the grass and launched himself at the rough wood of the gates. He crawled up the uneven surface quickly as Delem ran to the far corner of the fort, to put the sentries in the other tower to sleep before Benzan reached the top of the wall. One of the hobgoblins saw him as he leaned around the corner, but before he or his companion could target the sorcerer both succumbed to the magic of the wand and fell into unconsciousness. He then turned the wand toward the second tower, where the first of the two hobgoblin sentries within the sphere of darkness had already appeared along the parapet that ran around the interior of the stockade. A few seconds later, those two guards were neutralized as well. Benzan, meanwhile had reached the top of the gate, and levered himself over onto the inner side of the wall. For a moment he expected to hear the hum of bows firing their deadly missiles at his exposed form, but the inner courtyard of the fort seemed to be deserted. He quickly descended halfway down the inside of the gates and dropped the rest of the way to land in the packed earth at their base. The gates were sealed with a wooden beam as thick through as his waist, and he set himself to the difficult task of lifting it free from its frame. Then he heard the shout, followed by the sounds of angry growling behind him, and knew that he was in trouble. Benzan glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar adversary, the hobgoblin adolescent that had fled from their first encounter back at the mine entrance. The creature was standing in the doorway of one of the buildings that lined the inner wall of the stockade, next to a row of kennels fashioned from wooden slats, two of which contained vicious hounds that were even now straining at the gates, slavering and barking in apparent eagerness to set upon this intruder. Benzan and the hobgoblin locked gazes. But even as the tiefling reached for his bow, the hobgoblin dashed over and lifted the latches that held the gates of the kennels closed. Benzan turned back to the gates, and to the heavy bar. “Damn, I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling kid and his dogs,” he said under his breath as he pushed with all his strength against the weight of the bar. He could almost feel the dogs charging across the not-so-great open space of the courtyard toward him, but he focused himself on his task, pouring every last amount of strength he possessed to the task of lifting the bar from its channel. With a final mighty heave, the bar fell free, and the dogs tore into Benzan from behind, dragging him roughly to the ground. [/QUOTE]
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