Veils and Crossings (was: Shadow over Felthera) - StalkingBlue's Midnight game

[StalkingBlue]

Tane's account, by Tane's player

Having thanked the elves for their gifts and said their goodbyes, Tane, Jezzt and Jarod were about to leave for Dargham’s Folly.

Then two strange elves approached the trio and took Jarod to one side. A brief whispered conversation followed. Then Jarod turned back to Tane and Jezzt.

"I am sorry, I must go. There is a grave situation and my masonry skills are needed. Please say goodbye to Zana for me and remember to keep in touch when you can."

With that, he turned and followed the two elves.

Tane thought that with the Keep of the Cataracts being under siege, it made sense to get every available stonemason there as quickly as possible.

The journey back was uneventful and quiet. Tane was getting used to being separated from Keeran his brother, who had volunteered to stay behind in Heren-Nin so he could guide the elves to the hiding place of the drum full of vile essence. Jezzt seemed to be missing Loren. So it was only the pair of them who arrived at Dargham’s Folly. Having thanked their anonymous elven guide they entered into the camp.

The first person they sought out was Zana. The warrior looked shocked to see only two of them and immediately wanted to know where everyone else was. Jezzt started telling her the story of their journey to the elven town but then asked Tane to continue. She looked too upset to finish the story. Tane did so and saw Zana pale as the story developed. The potential disaster of the drum, the deaths of Kiriel and Loren, the forest defending itself, the questioning by the elves and their particular interest in Jezzt; Zana was obviously upset but she told the group that a new gnome trader had arrived. He was closeted with Dimgol at the moment. The group was also informed that they were to see Captain Bernt as soon as they could. Knowing Bernt, that meant now. On the way there, Zana also told them that there had been a certain amount of tension between the humans and elves in the camp. She said it in a tone of voice which suggested that that was all the camp needed at this time.

Everyone went to Bernt’s building. They were quickly admitted and inside they found Bernt, Nayeen and a strange elf. This elf was small, dark with long hair and numerous tattoos. Tane recognised him as one of the southern jungle elves. He wondered what the stranger was doing so far north. He didn’t have time to wonder long though. Bernt turned to them and wanted to know what had happened. As with Zana, he was told. He then informed the group that a group had been sent to see if they could delay the diggers and the building of the temple. In the meantime he turned to Nayeen and motioned for her to take over.

Nayeen turned to the group and said: “You will escort Jan Wym a gnome trader. He has dealt with Zoidan before and has the goods that Zoidan wants for the horses. Those horses are very important to our war effort here. One other thing; above all, your mission is to prevent the capture of the gnome. He is not to be taken alive. That is of the utmost importance.”

Tane asked: “How many horses are we talking about here?”

Nayeen replied: “About two dozen”.

“How are we going to handle twenty four horses. I think the only person who has any experience with horses here is Zana.”

“That is Jan’s problem. He has done it before. I am sure he will be able to do it again. Anyway, your primary mission is to protect him, remember”.

“In other words,” thought Tane to himself, “I don’t know but its your problem.”

Ah well, he would have to remember Nayeen’s words. The horses were very important but the most important thing of all was to protect the gnome and in extreme circumstances prevent his capture by any means.

Tane remembered the letter which had been recovered from the goblins. That letter certainly suggested that Zoidan was less than trustworthy. It clearly said that “he had made other arrangements” and that he should be met with force.

Bernt then turned to the group and put a roughly sketched map on his table. He rapidly traced the route the group was to take. South through the forest then into the foothills near the town of Al-Kadil.

“In the foothills you will meet with a band of orcmen led by Bendo. Be careful of him. We cannot tell how much we can trust him at the moment but he may help you. Go to Dimgol; tell him to give you the barrel of original Goblintongue. You will give this to Bendo as a gift from me. That may make him more amenable. He is a strange one. Difficult to predict. You need to set out first thing tomorrow. Make sure you ask Jan to give you the cloaks. Any questions?”

Tane said: “Just one. Who is that?”

“Who?” replied Bernt.

Tane pointed at the jungle elf.

Nayeen replied. “This is Apari Ghostwalker. He has some skill in the woods. He will be able to help you.”

The group was then dismissed and Apari joined them. Tane and the others went to see Dimgol. They found him with another gnome. This one looked considerably older, with white hair and a face so lined and tan it could have been mistaken for cracked leather.

Tane and the others introduced themselves.

Tane asked: “Are you Jan Wym?”

He found two very bright piercing eyes looking at him. “Yes, but its just Jann”.

“Good. We are your escort. We will leave first thing in the morning. It is good to meet you. I have one question for you. How are we going to handle two dozen horses. Nayeen said you would know how.”

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s not a problem. We will lead them. I can lead them. We’ll have no problem young one. You worry too much. I can tell. Always worrying. It will happen.”

Some more conversation followed and then everyone stood up to retire. As Zana was walking away, she seemed to stagger and fall. Tane realised that he had seen her drinking pretty steadily throughout the afternoon and that she was in her cups. Jezzt moved forward to help her and together the two women retired. Tane saw that Jann was aware of the incident. Tane was sure the gnome missed very little.

The next morning everyone was fresh. Zana did not seem the worse for wear after her indulgence of the night before. There was a brief conversation about Jann’s cloaks. Apari wanted to know where they were and Jan at first pretended that he didn’t know what he was talking about and then compromised by promising to lend them to the group after they left the woods.

Just before they left, Jezzt came out of Dimgol’s shop clutching a filthy, rusty sheathed sword that was covered in cobwebs. However it was very large and she was grinning happily, clutching it to her torso.

The group set out. Apari mentioned that he was not only good in the woods but that he also had some magical ability including healing and the miraculous berry that filled one up for the day. Jan had three mules loaded with all sorts of sacks, barrels, bags and sundry containers. Tane scouted ahead with the group arranged behind him. Zana was riding her horse now named Binky. The name had come to her in a dream or so she said. Tane speculated about just how much she had been drinking to get dreams like that. At least the group was now dressed pretty universally in well-made refugee studded leather which meant they were pretty silent. Tane saw that Jann had a suit as well.

The group made good time during the day and settled down for the night. Tane fell asleep but was then woken up by screaming and shouting. He saw Zana and Jezzt facing away from him, two strangers with bows next to them, Apari up in a tree about to jump down, the mules in turmoil and Jann trying to calm them down. He also heard something large crashing its way through the forest in their direction. He jumped up and loaded his crossbow. He began to see glimpses of a large creature with a very big axe which seemed to be mindlessly tearing its way through the forest, trailing vines, branches and fronds. Tane moved forward and got ready to fire at it. It moved into the open and charged, pretty much ignoring the arrows that glanced off it from the two archers. In the open, it was obviously dead with half its skull missing. Its charge took it next to Jezzt who used her new greatsword to take a large chunk out of it. Even the fell could tell who was the most dangerous in the group and it retaliated with its axe, which smote Jezzt and staggered her. Tane, as usual, missed with his crossbow. Then Zana also hit it and finally the creature fell. Moments later, Zana took hold of everyone and drew them back as a large vine entwined itself around the creature and drew it back into the undergrowth.

Tane talked briefly with Semmo and Tom, the two strangers. They had been part of a patrol, which had been scattered by this creature, which they called an Uruk. They had drawn it into an assassin vine but unfortunately the uruk was pretty much walking through it. They were glad they had run into the camp as they were running out of arrows and options. Then they decided to try to find the rest of their patrol. An exchange of arrows for trail rations was made and the group went back to sleep.

The next morning the group waited until Apari recovered and set out. Nothing happened on that day and for the next twelve days after. Then it was time to leave the forest and enter the foothills. According to Jann, there were paths through them. As the group left the forest, the cloaks were mentioned again and this time Jann went to his mules and produced four what he called elven cloaks. These helped the wearers meld into the background and hid one magical aura. Tane considered that his chances of gaining something with a magical aura were slim to none but certainly this melding was very helpful to his hiding skills, especially when added to the amulet he had borrowed from his brother.

Thus equipped with the cloaks they set out although it didn’t really do much good for Zana while she was riding her horse. Little happened with one exception. Tane heard voices ahead. Running back to the group he asked them to stop while he investigated. Together with Apari he went forward and saw a strange depression ahead. Crawling to the edge, they saw a group of orcs with a leader. Some of them were wounded and one was pretty close to death. The others congregated around him. Tane was pretty sure he knew what was coming next but he left Apari on watch and went to the group. A quick decision was taken to make a detour. Tane signaled Apari back and the group took another direction. The orcs were avoided and the group resumed their journey. Again scouting, Tane this time spotted two humans, orcmen by their distinctive dress and hairstyles. He went back to the group and it was decided that in this case openness was the best policy. So the group now moved forward with little effort to hide and soon they were hailed. Jann seemed to know one of the guards, a fellow named Moon possibly by his strange head, a large round face of which one half was covered with black skin. The whole effect was truly eerie. He and Jann were getting on very well though and the group was then guided to the orcman camp, past approximately another dozen guards.

The orcman camp consisted of a large structure built against the side of a hill with a tent roof, which was almost leaning against the hill. The tent roof was a patchwork of cloth, skin and other materials, which Tane couldn’t identify. A tunnel mouth, leading to the area under the tent roof, was guarded by two men. Again they were familiar with Jan, who passed them unconcerned. When everyone else tried to follow the gnome the guard stopped them. Tane called out after Jan who confirmed that the group was with him. The guards relented a little but insisted that everyone leave their weapons at the entrance. Everyone did so. Zana refused to leave her sword, calling it a heirloom but she did bind it in front of the guards. Tane managed to smuggle a dagger in the small of his back. Having mostly disarmed themselves, the group hurried into the tunnel. They entered a strange eerie tunnel where their footsteps echoed, no matter how softly they stepped. There were also bas-reliefs on the walls depicting strange stocky but powerful looking individuals.

Finally they entered into an open area. They saw a figure sitting on a chair on top of a mound to stones and rocks. Jann was already sitting in front of it and looked to be deep in conversation. Another figure was there, a woman, small, dark haired, with a large sword; Tane recognised her as a Sarcossan. The figure on top of the mound, who Tane assumed to be Bendo, was of a large warrior who had seen better days. Once powerful muscles now looked flabby and he had a large, red drinker’s nose.

The group stood by Jan, who was nattering away. Bendo then turned his attention to them. There were a couple of awkward moments when he asked why they were here and why they were escorting Jann when the trader had mostly been on his own before. Zana explained that this was due to the increased orc activity. He was also put out that when a little further into the conversation, he was told about the orc patrol in the depression. He called for Moon to go and sort it out. Relations improved dramatically however, when the group brought him Bernt’s gift of the barrel. Original Goblintongue, with the tongues in it, apparently was a great favourite. Dinner was served with goblintongue. In fact, everything was served with goblintongue. Bendo consumed a vast quantity of it. After dinner everyone settled down. However, Tane watched and listened as Jan and Bendo discussed business. He didn’t understand any of it but he watched and listened as the gnome practiced his craft, referring to goods, movements and barters made in the past and to be made in the future. All of a sudden there seemed to be a lot of goods on those mules. The woman, whose name he now knew to be Ailar, watched impassively.

 

[randomling]

Jez's Story

When Tane and I finally reach Dargham’s Folly, the sun is going down. The first thing I notice as we walk through the gates is Zana catching sight of us, and the look that appears on her face. I can almost read her thoughts – only two of us. We exchange no greetings, just walk towards each other under the heavy load of bad news to be shared.

“Are they alive?” Zana asks.

Tane and I share a glance and, in unison, drop our eyes. Suddenly I’m eleven years old again, running home blood-streaked and panting to give my mother the news that her oldest son is dead. “Keeran is,” I say shakily when Tane says nothing.

It’s the worst news. Zana looks nothing like my mother, but it’s the same expression on her face as I tell her, that same mix of disbelief and pain; and like my mother, she keeps her composure as she asks what happened. “Tane?” I say.

“Talk,” he replies, but I can’t. I can barely even look at Zana as he tells the long story of Loren’s death and the events that followed it. As he talks, we sit on the dusty ground by the gate. Zana listens silently, shedding no tears, but she uncorks the bottle she’s been carrying, and the three of us drink to Loren’s memory in the dwindling light.

It’s moments later that we’re called in to see Captain Bernt. Zana takes another surreptitious swig as we enter his building to find Nayeen there, as ever, with Bernt, and with them a dark-skinned elf I haven’t seen before. Bernt tells us he’s already heard of Loren’s death, and with the details brushed over, our briefing begins.

Between them, Bernt and Nayeen brief us. The mission is, as we’d expected, to accompany a gnome trader who recently arrived at camp. His name is Jan Wym, and he’s going to cement a horse trade that we have reason to expect will go bad. We’re accustomed to letting Zana take the lead with Bernt and Nayeen, but it becomes clear quite quickly that the alcohol is hitting her hard. Tane quickly takes over, extracting the details of the mission from Nayeen, and making sure we’re introduced to the elf, Apari Ghostwalker, who apparently is to be sent with us.

After the meeting, the four of us go to meet Jan. He’s with Dimgol, an elderly gnome with one of the most optimistic and cheerful manners I’ve ever seen. I can tell from the look on Tane’s face that he doesn’t trust it an inch, and as he and Apari chew over the details of the mission with Jan I make a trade with Dimgol that we’d arranged before I left: my sword, old armour and some javelins for a greatsword. It’s rusted, but it works. When I turn back, everybody’s leaving. As I swing the holster onto my back, I hear a thud.

“There’s a threshold there,” says Jan, amused. I turn to look – Zana’s fallen at the exit to Dimgol’s shop, drunk. She murmurs something about me helping her to bed, and I put one arm around her, guiding her back onto her feet. It takes a few minutes, but we stagger back to where we’re sleeping, and she collapses onto her bed and passes out, clothed and armoured, bottle still in hand. I draw my new sword, swing it a few times, experimentally, and set about cleaning it, but the day’s been long and I’m too tired to work for long. I curl up near Zana and drop off to sleep. For the first time in years, I dream of my brother.

Morning rolls around, and we get going not long after first light. I march alongside the gnome as we head south through the forest. Zana rides behind; I keep glancing back at her. Her face is a wall, showing no emotion.

The day passes quietly but for Jan’s constant humming: out-of-tune folk songs and other melodies I don’t recognise. That night, Jan regales us with stories while I polish up my new sword and Apari makes arrows. I take first watch – a quiet few hours, after which I roll over and sleep, letting Zana take over. I haven’t been asleep long when I feel her foot in my ribs, jabbing me awake. I leap to my feet, greatsword already in hand. Two young men with bows are there, babbling to Zana about a dead Uruk and asking her for arrows. Zana turns some over. She and I stand side by side, swords ready to deal with whatever comes our way.

We see it then, a huge hulking shape at the edge of our vision. The archers duck behind us and fire a volley; Apari chants and gestures; Tane ducks for nearby cover; a few feet back, Jan is awake and trying to calm the mules. The shape approaches closer; I glance at Zana and change my stance slightly to match hers as more arrows are loosed towards the monster. Then it charges forward, and Zana and I step up to engage it. We strike in unison, but both swing wild. It’s not distracted enough to stop moving, and it pushes past Zana, who tries to stand in its way but falls back. As it thunders past me I lash out with the greatsword, hacking out a lump of rotting flesh. It roars, and turns to me as the archers send out another volley. I swing again: a glancing blow.

In another second, it’s splitting me open with its axe, a heavy blow that makes me bite back a cry of pain. I can feel the blood seeping into my clothes under my armour, and hear Apari start to form the words of a spell, but stumble to a halt. I raise my sword again, the wound aching with the effort, but before I can strike the Uruk has fallen to the ground: I turn to see a savage smile spreading across Zana’s face. She says something about justice and wipes her sword while I hack into the twice-dead Uruk, disconnecting head from body. Just in time, Zana sees a piece of animated vine creeping across it, and yanks Apari and me back. The vine lashes itself around the corpse and drags it away. At the edge of my hearing, Tane mutters a complaint about the steel.

The two archers camp with us overnight, and offer us their food in the morning – dried meat and biscuits, which tastes wonderful after nothing but iron rations and magic food since we left camp with Kiriel weeks ago. Needing rest after the disturbance of the night before, the elf sleeps in. When he wakes we’re ready to travel on.

It takes us a long time to get through the forest to the foothills we’re headed for. On the twelfth day, we finally emerge from underneath the dark branches into real sunlight. No orcs control this land, and summer is upon us, and as Jan hums and chatters pleasantly beside me I enjoy the feeling of sun on my skin for the first time in months. It’s been a long, dark winter. I’m aware that summer sun and freedom are fleeting pleasures; we should enjoy them while we can.

The feeling of freedom doesn’t last long. It’s late morning when Tane hears voices up ahead, and he stops the party and takes Apari to investigate. Orcs, in a hole beside the road. Nine of them, Tane tells us, and when he describes the grisly scene Jan makes a comment about disturbing them while we’re eating. Zana suggests we detour, taking a circular route away from the beaten track and around them. I agree. I wouldn’t have liked our chances against nine orcs when we were six, and now that we’re four, I like them even less. Zana misses a beat – just a beat – when I mention the lower numbers. I want to kick myself. I know what she’s doing, covering up the cracks, battling on in spite of it; I say nothing. We go around.

It’s late afternoon when we come across a pair of orcmen lurking behind a rock to watch the road. It’s Tane who spots them first. Jan blithely says that they’re probably here for us. After a few moments of talking to us with obvious mistrust, the orcmen see Jan and start asking about drink. He greets them. One of the men, a large guy with a round face marked with burn scars, is known as Moon. “A half moon,” says Zana under her breath, and I kick her gently; but we’re on our way in.

We’re led to camp, refusing the orcmen’s offers to carry our gear, and reach a large, patched-together tent leaning against an old quarry wall. Jan slips in and out of our sight, but a pair of guards stops the rest of us: “Who are you?”

We protest that we’re Jan’s bodyguards, and he calls over his shoulder that we’re telling the truth as he vanishes down the passage. The guards stop us again – no weapons allowed. I look at the guards for a second, then shrug and remove my weapons. Greatsword, longsword, javelins, a dagger from each boot. Tane gives me a look that I can’t – and don’t care to – interpret as I follow the elf inside, hearing Zana begin to protest leaving her father’s sword.

The passage is long and it echoes loudly as I walk along it in pursuit of Apari and Jan. Finally I reach a cavern. Inside, Jan sits at the feet of a once hugely-muscled man who’s run to seed, and I wonder if this is Bendo. Tane follows me in, and a couple of minutes later Zana joins us, Kursu tightly bound at her waist. I envy her guile a little. Unarmed, I feel almost naked, and more vulnerable among these strangers than I do surrounded by orcs. We talk of orcs and the horse-trade, and Bendo sends Moon and some others to deal with the band we met on the trail earlier in the day. Finally, Tane and I fetch Bendo his whisky. “Genuine goblin-tongue”, Tane proclaims. “With the tongue still in,” I add, though I’m not sure what that means. I find out later: at the meal, Bendo hefts the barrel onto the table and pulls out a collection of tongues on a string before he passes out the whisky. Tane takes a polite sip. Zana knocks back the glass in one go. I watch her as we eat.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says, not meeting my eyes. She’s lying. If she’s anything like me, she’ll lie and keep lying until she believes it herself. I put my hand on her shoulder, and change subject: two weeks’ practise, and she’s getting very good at shutting the pain out of her face.

Almost as good as me.

 

[StalkingBlue]

Apari's Account

Apari finds some space and takes time to pray and meditate on the events of the past few days. he starts with a prayer of supplication.

spirits of the earth strengthen me
spirits of the air guide me
spirits of water sustain me
spirits of fire inspire me
spirits of my ancestors protect me.

I feel the shadow all around and can find no release, even in the depths of the forest I find only a little peace, evil seems everywhere and I sense it always. This is the price I pay for the connection I have to the land, The land serves me and grants me power but in return I must feel it’s pain.

Apari spend time praying for each of his companions.

I have fallen in with some interesting people, I am certain that they are heroes in the making, if they survive long enough.

There is Tane who moves as silently as my kinsfolk, and is difficult to spot even by one as gifted as I, perhaps he carries some magic, but regardless he has great talent for stealth, his skills with weapons seems very limited but he is young and I am sure his abilities will grow.

Jezzt, seems like the natural leader of the group, she seems very solid, capable and always concerned by the well being of her comrades, she wields a sword that is almost twice my height, she wields it skilfully and powerfully, she is certainly a worthy ally and comrade, if she survives
long enough I am certain she will become a hero that has ballads sung about her.

Zana, causes me the greatest concern and I ask all the spirits out there to keep an eye on her, she seems mentally unstable and prone to alcoholism and depression. I sense that she had a great fondness for a caransil called Loren, perhaps they were lovers! It is a great encouragement for me to see that these humans can have such strong feelings for an elf, if our races are to survive, humans and elves must become as close as siblings. Still I cannot help but worry about the warrior
known as Zana, she carries great pain which I fear she will bury deep down where it will eventually grow into something darker.

Spirits of Earth and Sky, Fire and Water, protect and guide my companions, grant them wisdom, patience and a release of their darkest hurts.


My companions and I have been entrusted with the safety of a gnome called Jann, a cunning and intelligent person like so many of his kinfolk, But like so many I have met before, he surrounds himself with deceits and falsehoods, very rarely giving a straight answer, yet I do not begrudge him this because I understand that he gets joy and pleasure from playing his games. I also understand that often straight talking is not the best way.

Spirits protect and guide this one called Jann and I pray to my ancestors that I must never have to “stop him from falling into enemy hands”. I would not wish to have to carry that burden.


Apari gives the spirits a brief account of his journey so far

We were to take Jann southwards and help him procure some horses from a trader known as Zoidan, there were concerns for Jann’s safety so he had been given some bodyguards, our journey southward was largely uneventful, one night we fought a fell uruk whom my comrades and I felled after a short fight, we also went around a group of orcs, How I wish my magics were greater so I could have done more to them. eventually we arrived at this camp of orcman and are waiting a night before we move on.


Apari finishes his prayers and mediations and goes and rejoins his companions


Rav

 

[StalkingBlue]

One night about a month after Keeran parted from his friends to guide the Elves of Heren-Nín to the drum concealed in the forest, he is violently startled from sleep by a tearing sensation in his chest that yields to a feeling of hollowness and still, icy cold.

The platinum bracelet on his wrist appears to be humming with some dark inner power; and as he sits up in his place on the talann still struggling to sort dreams of blood and night from waking truth, Keeran knows that his brother Tane has died this hour.

 

[StalkingBlue]

A breath of wind seems to rustle the leave of the ancient Heorn tree around Keeran, and for an instant it is almost as if he can hear Tane whisper:

"Don't despair. It will happen. You must help in making it happen."

Then all is quiet again. Far above, stars wheel icily.


[OOC note: the words of the dying whisper were written by Tane's player.]

 

[StalkingBlue]

Horse Trade Zorgetch-Style



After spending the night safely in Bendo’s camp, the group heads south with the gnome trader Jan Wym and a silent escort consisting of Moon and half a dozen youthful orcmen from Bendo’s band, who are soon sent back with thanks by Jan.

Both sides travel in growingly tense silence, what with the old gnome keeping the further stages of his journey to himself and the group quietly determined to carry out its orders to bodyguard and if necessary kill the gnome to prevent the enemy from taking him alive. That night in camp, however, the mood subtly changes when Jan Wym’s telling of funeral rites on the River propels first Zana, then Jez into an account of their memories of their Elven friend Loren, recently killed by wolves of Erethor. Tane, possibly feeling the shadow of things to come creep over his own soul, stays silent, while the Apari keeps watch on the edge of the camp.
Loren’s wake ends with a long silence, broken at last by Jan’s question why he – the one to be guarded! – had been excluded from the briefing for his new bodyguard. The group initially balks, then decides to tell him the truth. Tane even hands the coded spy letter together with Loren’s explanatory scrawls over to Jan to read. They admit that their orders include killing Jan if they cannot help him escape, but assure him that they will do all they can to prevent that happening, even if they have to sacrifice themselves in the process.

Jan appears to be taking all this in his stride. Although he is sceptical at first about the alleged treachery of Zoidan, he ends up trusting the group to do what is right. He now explains that he is due to go to a place called ‘Patok’s’ in the hamlet Pechina, half a day’s walk north from the foothills, to meet Zoidan’s contact who will then let him know where the actual rendezvous for the horse trade will be.

After some discussion, the group advises Jan to go ahead with the trade. They escort the gnome north to Pechina the next day, spotting no one but a shepherd in the distance. ‘Patok’s’ is one of five decrepit buildings: a single-room hovel with two doorways hung with leather curtains, a couple of roughly-hewn tables and benches and a barrel of a sour beer-like drink in one corner. Patok is almost too terrified by the appearance of the group and especially Jez that he almost drops a bowl of the vile brew he offers Jan. Zana (with help from Jan, who has the right kind of patience for those beasties) brings in first one, then all of Jan’s mules and her horse. The group is reassured by the fact that the animals seem unafraid of Patok.

Everyone waits with Jan except Tane, who sneaks around the houses and finds two evidently unlived in, a third one filthy and empty. An infant bawls in the last one, accompanied by frantic hushing sounds. He withdraws, satisfied.

Little later Zoidan’s contact, a Sarcosan by the name of Aren, arrives to explain the rendezvous point to Jan Wym. There is brief confusion on all sides when Aren mistakes Jez for a legate, the ‘Yellow Mother’, and is baffled as to why she hasn’t arrested the gnome herself. Jez, mystified for almost a second too long, replies that ‘it isn’t time yet’. Aren leaves but after a brief, feverish discussion amongst the group is fetched back by Zana on the pretext that ‘the Mistress’ wants his report. Once back in Patok’s hovel, Aren is subdued and questioned. He appears to know nothing about orcs, but confirms that Zoidan and nine men are preparing to capture the gnome to turn him over ‘as agreed’. He agrees to guide the group to Zoidan’s camp, roughly a dozen miles east of Pechina.

More discussion ensues with the group considering, but in the end dismissing the option of retreat. They send Jan Wym and his mules back into the foothills to wait with Bendo and arrange to meet him within a week’s time – if they do not return by then, he is to assume that they are dead.

By dusk they come in sight of the copse behind which – according to Aren – Zoidan is camping. They have seen two human riders gallop west towards Pechina maybe an hour before. They demand that Aren guide them past any sentries. When he explains that there are likely to be outriders moving around, they kill him and move on, Apari and Tane scouting ahead on foot and the two fighters riding up behind. Soon they spot two human riders in the gloom, who pass them by without spotting them, and a little later surprise and kill two Sarcosan sentries at the rim of the copse.

Guided by Apari, the group moves silently through the copse and comes upon Zoidan’s camp unobserved. Apari and Tane sneak up and kill four of Zoidan’s riders in their sleep before one of the sentries can give a warning shout. A brief bloody battle follows, in which all of Zoidan’s followers except one (who flees on a horse) are killed, one rises as Fell and is killed again, Zoidan kills Tane with a lucky arrow through the eye and gravely wounds Jez before Zana tells him to surrender, then he won’t be killed. After a final flicker of defiance, Zoidan throws down his sword.

 

[StalkingBlue]

[Apari's account, by Apari's player: ]


Apari finds a few minutes for himself and starts his prayers and reflections, he looks haggard and close to collapsing.

spirits of the earth strengthen me
spirits of the air guide me
spirits of water sustain me
spirits of fire inspire me
spirits of my ancestors protect me.

Tears well up as he thinks about the past few hours, all he can see are the same events being played over, again and again,

Spirits forgive me...
I am sure I could have done something different, something better, perhaps then Tane would still be with us. I close my eyes and all I see is that arrow flying straight towards him, it must have killed him instantly, he was probably dead before he hit the ground.

The plan had been almost perfect, we had dispatched several of the riders with ease before they had alerted anyone, the enemy forces had been halved without injury to us, For the first time I had started to feel a connection with this group of humans I was with, Tane and I were orking well together, rarely had I met anyone who could move so stealthily and kill so efficiently.

Then the fighting broke out, the spirits guided my hands and with a simple web spell I entrapped the two most powerful members of the enemy band (although I did not realise it at the time!). Their channeler was unable to cast spells and was dispatched quite easily as were most of the other members of the band. All except one, the leader Zoidan is one of the most powerful warriors I have come across, his skill with weapons was greater then any of my companions and he fired arrows with great speed and accuracy, he even managed to hold off both of our fighters and it
looked for a few minters that my entire group would be slain.

Ziodan kept on wounding Jez who seemed unable to penetrate his armour, I kept on healing her, then one of the spirits spoke into my heart, “move away now, your life is in danger!” I looked up into Zoidan’s eyes and realised he was about to change targets and attack me, I moved away quickly and the fight continued, Zana asked for Zoidan’s surrender which he agreed to.

All I wanted to do was kill Zoidan where he stood, not only had he slain a comrade (one who was hopefully becoming a friend), but he was a traitor to his own people. It is in the nature of orcs to be evil and follow their god but for a human or elf it is an abomination! It took all my self control
not to kill him!

I am not sure what to do next, so I ask the spirits to guide me, Zoidan is dangerous and we may not get him safely back to Zana’s superiors. I am also concerned that some orcmen we know may try to free him as they will not believe that he is a traitor, Also Tane has a brother who may wish
for vengeance.

Spirits please guide me towards the path of peace and wisdom, as all I want is vengeance! Spirits of my ancestors guide Tane home and grant him eternal rest.

Apari rises having received no answers and still being troubled, he goes back to his comrades.

 

[StalkingBlue]

New PC: Pallas Elinor, southern plains drifter and lone wolf, Erenlander Ftr3


[OOC note: Pallas's player decided to roll for stats and ended up with CHA4. He played his un-noticeable PC so successfully that I forgot about him twice during the session. And here's: ]



Pallas's account, by Pallas's player

My name is Pallas Elinor and people don’t see me.

After a few weeks I knew I wasn’t going to last in Bendo’s band much longer. Bendo was a fat, old man who relied on one trick. His main interest wasn’t killing orcs but drinking, trading and a long way down, killing orcs. He had a good scam going, I’ll give him that. His great victories consisted of waiting until someone found an injured and panicked orc patrol. They came from the Forest of Erethor. He would make sure the orcs were outnumbered at least four to one, more if he could get away with it and then he ambushed them. The leaders who sent the patrols assumed they had been lost in the Forest. Bendo always made sure there were no orc survivors. This made him a great orcman band leader. It wouldn’t last. Nothing does. The old man was getting careless. He surrounded himself with kids. He said jump, they said how high. He told me to jump once. I looked at him. He got mad and threw up. It must have been a good night. Since then my days were numbered. So were theirs. The whole camp was walking dead. They just didn’t know it yet. One real orc sweep and this lot were dust. Moon knew. I had seen him look at the kids. He knew all right.

I came back from a scouting trip to find a gnome in the camp. That wasn’t unusual. Bendo liked to trade. Gnomes brought him drink. Bendo would do a lot for people who brought him drink. The gnome didn’t see me. People rarely did. A few days later more people came. Three women, a man and three kids. Two of the women were armoured and armed. One of the kids also was. They were all riding. One of the men and one of the women looked like village people. The woman was carrying one of the kids and had the other by the hand. They were all riding and they had some spare horses. As they got closer, I saw they had someone tied up and draped over another horse. Also the armed kid wasn’t. I don’t know what he was. He had a good sword though. He looked very strange. They didn’t see me.

That night, Bendo, the gnome, the prisoner and the strange one with the two women had a conversation. Bendo had a puzzled frown on his face. Nothing new there. One of the women was doing most of the talking, the other said very little and looked at the ground a lot. The strange one did some talking as did the gnome. Bendo still looked puzzled.

Later that night Bendo came to see me.

“I want you and Stel to escort these people out of the foothills to the Forest. You don’t come back. Ask them. If you are lucky they may let you go along with them. If they refuse, tough. Don’t come back.”

I looked at him. He spat and walked away. I got up and gathered my gear. Moon was around. He was watching. He had his full gear on. He had seen me work with the vardatch. He shouldn’t have bothered. Bendo was a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet.

Next morning we set out. The villagers decided to travel on with us as did the gnome. Stel and I knew our way around the hills by this stage and we took them to the edge without mishap. I learned a little by this point. Some names. Jezzt, and Thana, Jan the gnome. Apari though I still didn’t know what he was. The villagers didn’t say anything. Blackie the horse. Why anyone would name something that they may have to eat in the near future I don’t know but Thana was Sarcosan. Sarcosans were funny about horses. The prisoner was Zoidan. He had killed someone. He had fading bruises around his head and face. He worked for the Shadow. They didn’t see me.

At the edge of the foothills, the gnome said his goodbyes. He was going South. The others did some trading with him. After they finished I made my move. I went to Zana. She did the talking. It took her a while to see me. It often did. I didn’t want to speak to her until she saw me. My voice startled people. Startled people were unpredictable. She was taking care of her horse. The she realised I was there. She looked startled.

“Can you use another swordarm?” I asked.

She looked at me. “My name is Zana Than, daughter of Lord Than. Have you heard of him?” she said by reply.

“No”. The last time I had heard the word “lord” was when I was a kid. I used it. When orcs were hitting me I found if I called them lord they stopped. Sometimes.

Then there was a shout. She turned around.

“My elf is calling me. I must go.”

So Apari was an elf. I had never seen one before. I didn’t realise they were so small. No wonder the orcs defeated them so easily.

I went to the edge of the camp and looked into the darkness. I had another stick to play if needed but I had to decide whether I wanted to play it. I decided not to. I could always ask the gnome if he wanted a companion going South. I had never been South before. He talked a lot though.

A little later they called me back. They had decided to take me. Jezzt asked me why I wore the face scarf.

I looked at her.

“Dust” I said.

Entering the forest, I was told we were going to a place called Dargham’s Folly. So be it. One place was as good as another. I hadn’t been in the Forest of Erethor before. It was strange. It seemed alive. Trees and plants moved. There were constant sounds. Apari found paths where I didn’t believe there were any. I was used to plains. The forest was strange. I got used to it. The journey took days. Once during that time, Apari spoke to me. He asked me if I could channel. I had no idea what he was talking about so I said no. Then he asked me whether I could do magic. That was one of my secrets. I said no. My Light was my own.

We arrived at Dargham’s Folly. It looked like a big village in the forest. A crowded village. The big difference was that people didn’t run into their houses as soon as the saw us. In fact they crowded the gate. They looked hungrily at the horses. I loosened my vardatch without anyone noticing. If anyone was going to eat my horse, it was going to be me. The group rode in. They were immediately called in by an old man in the doorway of a large building. I stayed outside with the horses. Some time later everyone came out except Zoidan.

Then we were left to our own devices. Some loot was given out. To my surprise, I was given a set of good leather armour. It was good leather. I should know. Good enough to sleep in.

The next few weeks went by. I learned a few things. The old man was called Bernt. Captain Bernt. He reminded me a little of Bendo. I wondered if he drank. He sent people out. Sometimes they came back, sometimes they didn’t. There was another elf in the camp. She was a bigger version of Apari. I ate well. Something called stonesoup. It was cooked up by this other elf. Sometimes I went out with some patrols. These met real orcs, not half dead ones. We didn’t seem to go out as much as others though.

Then one day, we were called to Bernt’s building. He didn’t look at me. He was looking mainly at Zana and Jezzt. Jezzt had hacked off her hair. I don’t know why. Later I picked up that she looked like a Legate and that people were confused. She wanted to look different.

Bernt told us a story about earthlight crystals. Magical things. We were to pick one up and drop it into a magical black mirror in a newly constructed Temple of Izrador quite close to here. As soon as the mirror was consecrated, a major explosion would occur, killing everything. Zana and the others thought it was doable. I didn’t know. We were to go to a place called Saddler’s Inn where we would meet another group of people who had the earthlight crystal. There was a phrase Zana had to use. So be it.

We each took a horse for our own use and traded the others. We got goods for them. Zana took care of that. She now had a packhorse.

We traveled fast and light with little incident. We avoided several patrols. If possible we were going to use Jezzt’s resemblance to this legate to get us through any difficulties. There weren’t any. We swam the river and rode to Saddler’s Inn. As we approached the village we heard a commotion.

Zana turned to us and said:

“If there are more than ten orcs, we don’t attack.”

Then we rode forward. After a little time, we came to a square in the village. There was a ring of villagers. There were also several orcs, a cage on wheels and an important looking orc with some black breastplate similar to mine. One of the other orcs was holding a woman who was screaming. We rode forward as one and then, seeing only seven orcs, we charged. The villagers stood frozen for a moment and then scattered screaming. There was a thing inside the cage. A man with no hands. Jezzt and I rode forward and jumped off our horses. We attacked the orc commander. Zana went for one of the soldiers, using her horse as well as her sword. Apari rode forward and then a multi coloured light sprang from his hand. One of the other orc soldiers fell down. So, that’s what he meant by magic. Recovering from his surprise, the orc commander shouted something and then ran from us. His soldiers jumped on Apari. The rest of us moved and freed him, killing one in the process. I took a wound along the way. Apari jumped up and then managed to get away. Jezzt and I concentrated on the soldiers while Zana went after the orc commander. She caught him and cut him down. Apari dealt with another and Jezzt and I went after the one holding the woman. She was now slumped on the ground in front of him, bleeding. He didn’t last very long. I knelt next to the woman and looked at her. Maybe it was her time to Go. I had a hunch though. She may be one of the people we were supposed to meet. We needed her to find the earthlight crystal. Sometimes my Light could stop people from Going. I glanced around. Everyone seemed busy doing something so I put a little of my Light in her. It worked. I didn’t want anyone seeing me do this. My Light was my own. It was how I survived all these years. If the orcs had ever found out…. Everyone else who had known was dead. Artus, Mak, Little Annie, the list went on.

The woman got up. Verity was her name. I remembered it now. She was hysterical. Luckily, Zana talked to her and calmed her down. She said a legate had caught her and her husband. He also had the earthlight crystal and was going some house. He had a halfling channeler with him. I knew now that channeler was another word for magician. We were going after them. So was she. She was supposed to have other companions but I assumed the orcs had dealt with them. The thing in the cage had been her husband. We took care of him.

I looked around. At the orc corpses, the villagers. The villagers were dead; they just didn’t know it yet.

 

[S'mon]

Zana's Story: Part Three


I am Earth
You Are Sky
Together We Are Strong

A rhyme her mother had taught her, long, long ago.

Zana Than kneeled next to her soot-coloured Sarcosan warhorse Blacky in the village's dusty central square, frowning with her accustomed expression of intent concentration as she cleaned the orcs' blood from her sword, Kursu that meant _Lightning_ in the old Sarcosan tongue. It was a task she had carried out now numerous times before. It always surprised her how easily the blade shed the last drop of greenish ichor, as if it revolted at the vile touch,or that it was itself somehow ever-oiled, protected against the contagion of the Shadow. It seemed that the old blade's metal had grown lighter over the past few months - had brightened, each time she killed. This battle she had killed three of the seven orcs they'd fought, including the leader who'd tried to flee, his cowardly nature belying his fearsome countenance. She fancied that Kursu was well pleased. Hadn't it once been dull, like lead, not so long ago? Now it gleamed like starsilver. Bright as the sky. Bright and quick as Jezzan's laughter...

Zana glanced over at the tall blonde Dornswoman, conversing with the dark jungle elf Apari Ghostwalker over by the inn. Jezzan was now the only person on Aryth Zana accounted a friend. Jezzan's face was flushed, still angry with Zana Than as she talked to the wild elf who himself believed Zana mad. Pallas the orcman, their fourth companion stood nearby, keeping as always to himself. It was easy to forget he was there at all. He had bound the woman Verity's wounds though, hadn't he? Zana couldn't recall.

Zana and Jez had just had their first real argument - over the villagers. What would become of them, with seven dead orcs to account for. Jez wanted to protect them. Zana had insisted that the Mission came first. The villager Pug would try to hide the orc bodies, hopefully. Probably that wouldn't work; the Shadow forces would exact their revenge by destroying the village, orcs slaughtering its inhabitants - and destroying the village's capacity to grow the crops that fed those same orcs.

That was the weakness at the heart of the Shadow - in the end, it consumed itself.

*Our weakness is different - we protect those who feed the Shadow. We sacrifice ourselves to aid those who destroy us. And we do it because it is right.*

Zana was looking at Jezzan, lost in her thoughts, when Jez looked up at that moment, caught Zana's eye. Zana's brown complexion darkened slightly, embarrassed, as she turned quickly away. Swiftly, she finished cleaning Kursu, held the blade up to the sunlight. Silver - it shone like silver now, gleamed as it had once, when Lord Than Zana's-Father had wielded it all those years before. Where Zana was earth, Lord Than had been sky - bright as the sun, fast as a serpent, ready always to laugh, to slay, to raise his men's spirits with a ready quip or strike fear into the enemy in a blizzard of steel death, killing them in droves even before they knew he was upon them, remorseless vengeance, yet so full of life. He was very like Jezzan, in a way. Quicksilver. Quickened.

Kursu, the lightning blade, had suited him as it had never suited Zana. Jezzan was Quickened too. Perhaps, Zana mused, it would suit Jezzan better still... But Jezzan had her own sword now. A heavy greatsword. Dull metal. Solid, of the earth. But very effective. Much like Zana herself.

I am Earth
You Are Sky
Together We Are Strong

Zana raised the ancient blade over her head, looked up, smiled triumphantly as Kursu's steel blazed in the sunlight. There was Power there - power to win. Together.

It was a good omen.

 

[StalkingBlue]

EDIT: Just realised I should have copied a between-sessions exchange between the PCs over, in which tactics for the upcoming battle were decided. Here it is:



[By Pallas's player: ]

Guys, I had an idea. I put it in this form because Pallas doesn't talk.

I looked around the village. Orc corpses. Running, screaming villagers. A few stayed behind. Zana, Jezzt and Apari started talking to Verity. I didn’t hear what they said. I helped the villagers pile the orc corpses. One of them was older and looked grim. Zana said something to him. He turned to her:

“Look, I know you are mighty warriors. You could kill me now if you wanted. But do you have any idea what you have done? These orcs will be missed. You have thrown magic around this place like smoke in the wind. We are going to have legates and orcs here within the hour”.

Zana spat back. “So far as I am concerned you are all collaborators. You feed the orcs. You take care of their supplies. You should get ready to fight them. Fortify your village and defend it.”

Jezzt joined in. “Zana, you are not serious. Look at these people. They wouldn’t stand a chance against the orcs. They would be killed immediately. What do you expect them to do?”

I approached. They didn’t see me. Pug, the older villager, kept quiet but looked at Zana. I followed the continuing conversation. Zana thought everyone was a soldier. Jezzt thought everyone would live forever. Pug knew different but was too afraid to say. The bickering continued. The two women had very different views. It didn’t matter. These people were dead.

No one had a solution. The talking then turned to Verity. She wanted to come with us. I handed her the orc breastplate. She said their party had been ambushed on the way to the village. That meant a traitor. The traitor was on his or her way to the legate now. There was some discussion as to how we should attack the mansion with the legate. There was no cover. There were sturdy doors. The mansion was owned by a single solitary woman. In this country, that was bad. Legates stayed there. She was Shadowfriend. More talk. Night attack; dusk attack; dawn attack. Abandon the mission and save the villagers. Nothing was decided. Zana insisted on carrying out the mission.

I got up on my horse. I approached the talking group and looked at them. It took them a while but in the end they looked at me. I spoke. I didn’t like doing it. Sometimes my throat hurt.

“We should ride now. To the mansion. As fast as possible. Before the traitor gets there. We should ride with no cover and openly. With Jezzt at the front wearing her black breastplate and visible to everyone. As befits a Legate of her standing. No one will pay her escort any attention if they hide their features a little. Apari can be her elven channeler slave. If this is going to work, we need to go now.”



[By S'mon, Zana's player, and randomling, Jez's player: ]

Zana frowns.

"If we approach openly the enemy will be alerted. Even if they think we're a Legate and her followers, still they will be ready for us. But still, it would at least get us in close, if it works."

Zana looks to Jez & Apari to see what they think of Pallas' plan.


From her position crouching near Apari, Jez meets Zana's eye, then looks away and shrugs. "So, we walk up openly. I pretend to be Rimhelde. They get close enough to see I'm not her - what then? They swarm us, right? Two spellcasters, a dozen orcs. Half a minute later, we're all dead."

Jez looks straight at Zana for a second, unsmiling, almost expressionless. A moment later she sinks back on her heels, tracing a pattern in the dust with one finger.


Zana nods.

"I expect you're right."

She turns to Pallas.

"I agree with Jezzan - with a Legate it's too risky - he'd likely see through us straight off. We'll proceed with a night attack."



---Original post:

[Intro to players for upcoming session. PCs are planning to take out a Legate plus Halfling Channeler plus a dozen or so Orcs at the nearby mansion, to retrieve the Earthlight taken from Verity and Martherin when they were captured a day ago. Edit: As discussed above, it's going to be a frontal assault.]

Ok guys. About half an hour has passed since the fight at Saddler's Inn. You have about two hours of daylight left. The mansion is five miles east of Saddler's Inn, the settlement where you killed the orcs and rescued Verity.

According to Verity, the terrain between Saddler's Inn and the mansion is open fields. The mansion is on a shallow hilltop with two main approaches:

A road lined with cypresses leads up to the main entrance from the south, providing sketchy bits of concealment against watchers from the mansion. The last half mile is open ground, with only rotting stumps remaining of the old double tree line.

Paths winding through fields and through the western edge of the burnt-down sword-grass area lead up to the vegetable patch and back door in the north. Depending on how far the harvest has got along in the past few days, there might still be concealment (about three feet high only) available, up to about 300yds away from the mansion. The hill itself is covered in short grass.


You want to be ready to act as the session starts. Or else others might do the acting for you ...