Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

It's always fun to try to come up with creative ways to use spells, and that one in particular seems perfectly designed to create all sorts of trouble.

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Chapter 197

Bredan and his companions fled.

It was impossible to forget that the trolls were right behind them. They made enough noise that it seemed like they must be bouncing off of the walls and each other, their hooting cries filling the space until it seemed as though they must be hearing them at the Darkfall Gate, the sentries there wondering at the source of the din and glad that they weren’t anywhere near it.

Bredan slid on the slick ground as they made their way back through the mazelike expanse of the pillared chamber. His side burned where a troll’s claws had gotten under his breastplate. That was the problem with wearing armor you weren’t familiar with; you had to consciously remember that it didn’t offer the same level of protection as what you were used to. Not that it mattered, right now; if they faltered they’d be torn to pieces either way.

He’d taken the hit during the brief fight with the trolls that had spotted them in the mud cavern. The exchange had lasted all of maybe ten seconds, just long enough for them to win past and flee. Koron had knocked two trolls into the sinkhole, one with his hammer and the other with his bare hands. When Bredan had glanced back from the cavern entry he could see both of them struggling as they sank into the clinging mud.

Xeeta was faster than the rest of them, and as she reached the far side of the cavern she turned and hurled a fireball past them. Bredan couldn’t help but flinch as it streaked over him and exploded on the far side of the cavern. Shattered bits of stalactite tumbled to the floor all around him as the chamber shook from the force of the blast. Trolls screamed, but Bredan couldn’t immediately tell how many of them she’d caught in the spell. It was more important to keep running than to look back.

Despite his longer legs he was the last to reach the far passage. Darik had taken something out of his pack, and as Bredan rushed past he saw it was a small leather bag. A metallic clink sounded behind them as they sprinted forward. He didn’t know what it was until he heard troll screams just a few seconds later. Ah, caltrops, he thought. Clever.

Wishing he had something to contribute, he kept on running. He could feel his magic in him, waiting for him to summon it, but even if he could use it to run faster, he would not leave the dwarves behind. So he continued running on their heels.

The caltrops had bought them a few moments, but soon enough they could hear the sounds of pursuit closing again. Darik led them from one turning to another without a moment’s hesitation. Bredan quickly got turned around and could only hope that they were headed in the right direction. Xeeta paused and let the others rush past her. Her rod glowed slightly in her hands as she turned toward their pursuers.

They came around another bend, and he could recognize the familiar fork that led back to the secret entrance. But directly ahead of them, and closer than them to the intersection, was a gang of at least a dozen trolls. The creatures immediately spotted them and let out a collective shriek as they charged.

“I’ll hold them off!” Koron cried.

“Koron, no!” Darik yelled, but the other dwarf was already five paces ahead and still picking up steam. “Go on!” he shouted back at them. “You have to warn the hold!”

There was another explosion behind them, very close. Xeeta appeared in its wake. “They’re closing in!” she yelled. Either her alter self spell had expired or she’d let it lapse, and her natural features had been restored.

The three of them sprinted into the side passage even as Koron smashed into the troll ranks. They could hear his loud cursing, accompanied by the solid thumps of his hammer striking bodies, as they ran toward the hidden exit. Darik drew a flare out of his pouch as they ran, and as they burst into the cavern he ignited it and flung it across the floor. It shed an intense, ruddy glow that transformed the natural cave into a hellish landscape of garish shadows.

The rope dropped almost immediately. Darik grabbed hold of it before it could touch the floor. “Xeeta!” he yelled.

“You go!” the tiefling shouted back. She turned and hurled a series of scorching rays back up the passage. Bredan hadn’t realized that the trolls had gotten that close until he heard their screams. He turned back to the passage, summoning his greatsword into his hands.

Xeeta turned to see Darik rising swiftly toward the shaft, but in the current moment it seemed entirely too slow. She looked back in time to see Bredan meet her eyes. “I’m right behind you!” he yelled. Barely a second later he swung his sword in time to catch the first troll as it exploded from the mouth of the passage. Already burned by Xeeta’s magic, the creature staggered as the huge blade carved a deep hole in its side.

Retreating toward the opening in the ceiling, Xeeta again summoned her magic, casting a haste spell on Bredan. The intervention was very timely as several other trolls erupted from the passage, forcing the fighter back with the ferocity of their attacks.

The rope dropped again and Xeeta grabbed hold of it. She hesitated as Bredan danced a bloody and violent dance with the trolls. More were just coming into view down the passage, and she could hear the sounds of still more behind them. But before she could cast another spell or otherwise intervene the rope jerked and she was being pulled upward.

“Bredan!” she yelled.

The fighter knew he was in dire straits. Thus far his own skill, augmented by Xeeta’s magic, had kept him out of their grasp, but he knew he had scant moments before his foes overpowered him through sheer numbers. He feinted with the sword, and as they surged forward he threw it in their faces. The heavy hilt caromed off the face of the lead troll, knocking the creature back for an instant.

Bredan was running by the time it struck. Xeeta was already in the shaft, the rope ascending with her, well out of reach. But he didn’t stop, and as he neared the opening he finally let his magic surge through him.

The trolls were right behind him as he leapt into the air. He rose impossibly high, higher even than the ceiling of the cavern, up into the shaft. He almost knocked Xeeta off the rope, then hit the edge of the shaft. His fingers narrowly missed the lip, and he would have fallen right back down if Darik hadn’t seized hold of his wrist. For a moment it looked as though both of them would fall, then Xeeta shot her legs out and pinned him between them. For a moment the three of them hovered there awkwardly on the cusp of disaster before the dwarf sentry was able to drag them over into the safe area.

They just lay there on the ground for a few heartbeats, breathing heavily. They could hear the trolls below, snarling and hooting in frustration. The dwarf sentry risked a look. “We’ll have to seal this off,” he said. “Now that they know about this entrance, they’ll find a way up here.”

Bredan pushed himself up, Darik and Xeeta just a moment behind them. “You’ll have to deal with that,” Bredan said. “We have to get back to the Hold, right now.”

Woah! Very well written!

(any chance of posting the party stats again soon?)

carborundum said:

Woah! Very well written!

(any chance of posting the party stats again soon?)

Click to expand...

Sure. I've been keeping them updated, I just haven't posted them recently.

First the update:

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Chapter 198

“I should still be down there,” Quellan said as he and Akhenon made their way back through the carved doors into the Temple of Hosrenu. “There could be injuries needing immediate treatment…”

“They will be a while,” the dwarf priest said. “I wanted to get your opinion of something I found in our archives this morning. A reference to the Libram.”

Quellan followed him into the nave of the temple. The place was empty. “I would have thought to see more people here,” he said. “I have found that in times of crisis, people seek out the solace of faith.”

“They will come when the crisis is over,” Akhenon said. “Until then, everyone has something to do to assist in the defense.”

The old cleric moved swiftly past the orderly rows of pews and turned to the side door that led to his sanctuary. Quellan was just a few steps behind. The room was cool and quiet, the coals in the stove banked low. “Wait here, I’ll get the book,” Akhenon said.

Quellan walked over to the seismograph. The device was interesting. The one here was simpler than the one buried under the Gate, with only the one sensor providing data. The reverberations caused by the giants’ mining operations below were clearly visible, extending back to a sharper ridge of jolts that he knew represented the assault upon the Darkfall Gate.

He studied the inscribed pattern intently. He was certainly not an expert in the device, though he had grasped the basic principles behind its operation. There was something there, something more…

“What is it?” a voice said, stirring Quellan from his reverie. He looked to and saw that Akhenon had returned and had come into the room.

“I’m not certain,” the half-orc replied. “Do you have a seeing glass?”

Wordlessly the dwarf went over to one of the bookcases and produced a fist-sized lens bound in brass. He handed it to Quellan, who studied the sphere through it.

“The seismograph in the Gate is more sensitive than this one and is constantly monitored,” Akhenon said. “This one is something of a backup, and allows for a limited triangulation of sources.” When Quellan did not look up he added, “Well? What are you looking at?”

Quellan drew back and handed over the looking glass. “These vibrations here,” he said, indicating a point with his thumbnail.

The dwarf took a look. “Yes, they’re part of the enemy’s tunneling operation. You can see the consistency of the effort along the time axis…”

“I think these might be separate,” Quellan said. “These little marks didn’t stand out on the one below.”

“It’s natural for there to be some minor inconsistencies,” Akhenon said. “As I said, the different number of sensors... What? You do not agree?”

Quellan held up a hand. “Look. There is a pattern. These particular marks appear here, and again here. Then a longer interval to here, almost overlapping with the attack on the Darkfall Gate. How long do these gaps represent?”

Akhenon looked again. “Roughly eight hours from here to here. About twice that from here to here.”

“So you would say it’s been almost eight hours since the most recent event?” Quellan said.

Akhenon nodded, then looked up and met the half-orc’s eyes. “Spellcasting,” he said.

“The tunneling operation, it could just be a cover,” Quellan said.

“We need to get down to the Gate,” Akhenon said. But even as he started to turn away, Quellan grabbed his arm. “Look!”

This time they didn’t need to resort to the looking glass. The marks were similar to the ones Quellan had highlighted earlier, but they were of a greater magnitude, easily overpowering the ongoing background ridges from the giants’ tunneling efforts far below them. They continued to swell, until the stylus was forging a mountain range across the slowly shifting sphere.

As the seismograph traced the growing disturbance the two clerics could feel the vibrations start to spread through the floor, a soft quiver that quickly became a steady pulse. Finally, after what could not have been more than a few seconds, there was a loud rumble that seemed like it had come from the temple just outside.

“What was that?” Quellan asked. He had reached reflexively for his mace as soon as the vibrations had begun, but he glanced knowingly over at Akhenon, who wore only his formal robes and carried no obvious weapons on his person. There was no way that the dwarf cleric could have missed the significance of that look, but there was no hesitation in his manner as he started toward the door.

Quellan quickly moved after him. “Elder… perhaps it would be wise to let me take the lead,” he said, unlimbering his shield so that the embedded symbol of Hosrenu was facing ahead.

The dwarf’s expression darkened, but he nodded.

Quellan advanced to the door that led to the main temple and pushed against it with his shield.

The temple was dark, and for a moment Quellan thought that the lamps in the nave had all gone out. But then he realized that the light from the lamps behind the altar stone just suddenly stopped at a sharp edge of blackness that filled the central space, maybe ten steps from where he stood.

Akhenon appeared in the doorway behind him. “Magical darkness,” he said, confirming Quellan’s suspicion. The dwarf stepped forward and raised his holy symbol, calling upon the power of his patron.

The book inscribed upon the cleric’s sigil flashed, and an echoing glow appeared at the summit of the nave, within the heart of the darkness. It quickly brightened, driving the shadows away until the nave was filled with brilliant daylight.

The light revealed the source of the disturbance they had detected just moments below. The solid stone floor of the temple had collapsed as if had suddenly turned to sand, forming a sinkhole almost eight feet across in the center of the floor. No, not sand, Quellan amended as he saw the awful black forms clambering up out of the hole. The stone had become mud, mud that clung to and caked the trolls as they cried out and lifted their arms to shield their eyes from the sudden brightness.

Here are the character stats for where they are now. For simplicity I did not stat out the minor characters (though I did do blocks for Embrae and Majerion, see below). Darik is a Veteran, Koron a Gladiator. Shreskra is a Knight and her rangers are Scouts.

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Bredan Karras, Human Male Fighter, Level 6
AC 16 (chain mail), hp 56, Str 19, Dex 11, Con 16, Int 9, Wis 14, Cha 13
Attacks 2x Greatsword +8 melee (2d6+5 damage), Light Crossbow +6 ranged (1d8 damage)
Background: Folk Hero
Skills: Animal Handling +5, Athletics +7, Perception +5, Survival +5
Special Abilities: Fighting Style: Great Weapon Fighting, Second Wind, Action Surge, Martial Archetype (Eldritch Knight), Weapon Bond
Spells (DC 10, 3 1st level slots/day): 0/Blade Ward, 0/True Strike, 1/Jump, 1/Longstrider, 1/Protection from Evil and Good, 1/Shield
Equipment: Chain mail, +1 greatsword, light crossbow and 20 bolts, light hammer

Glorianna (Glori) Leliades, Half-Elf Female Bard, Level 6
AC 15 (leather armor), hp 45, Str 10, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 8, Cha 18
Attacks 2x Shortbow +7 ranged (1d6+4 damage), 2x Shortsword +6 melee (1d8+3 damage)
Background: Entertainer
Skills: Acrobatics +6, Deception +7, Sleight of Hand +6, History +4, Investigation +4, Performance +7, Persuasion +7
SA Darkvision, Bardic Inspiration (d8), Jack of All Trades, Song of Rest (d6), Bard College (Valor), Combat Inspiration, Font of Inspiration, Countercharm
Spells (SAB +7, DC 15, 4 1st level, 3 2nd level, 3 3rd level slots/day): 0/Dancing Lights, 0/Mending, 0/Minor Illusion, 1/Cure Wounds, 1/Sleep, 1/Thunderwave, 2/Enhance Ability, 2/Invisibility, 2/Suggestion, 3/Fear, 3/Hypnotic Pattern, 3/Major Image
Equipment: Lyre, leather armor, +1 shortbow and 20 arrows, shortsword, dagger, brooch of antivenom (2 charges)

Kosk Stonefist, Hill Dwarf Male Monk, Level 6
AC 13 (no armor), hp 53, Str 16, Dex 13, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8
Attacks Quarterstaff +6 melee (1d6+3) and Martial Arts +6 melee (1d6+3), or darts +4 ranged (1d4+1 damage)
Background: Criminal
Skills: Athletics +6, Deception +2, Insight +5, Stealth +4
SA: Dwarven Toughness, +15 movement, 6 Ki points (flurry of blows, patient defense, step of the wind, or stunning strike), Monastic Tradition (Open Hand), Deflect Missiles, Ki-Empowered Strikes, Wholeness of Body (18)
Equipment: quarterstaff, 10 darts

Quellan Emberlane, Half-Orc Male Cleric, Level 6
AC 16 (half plate, shield), hp 45, Str 16, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 17, Cha 10
Attacks Mace +7 melee (1d6+4 damage)
Background: Acolyte
Skills: Arcana +4, Insight +6, Intimidation +3, History +4, Medicine +6, Persuasion +3, Religion +6
SA Darkvision, Relentless Endurance, Savage Attacks, Knowledge Domain, Channel Divinity (2/rest), Knowledge of the Ages (gain proficiency in a tool or skill for 10 minutes), Destroy Undead (CR ½), Read Thoughts
Spells (SAB +6, DC 14, 4 1st level, 3 2nd level, 3 3rd level slots/day): 0/Light, 0/Sacred Flame, 0/Spare the Dying, 0/Thaumaturgy, 1/Cure Wounds, 1/Guiding Bolt, 1/Command, 1/Identify, 2/Hold Person, 2/Lesser Restoration, 2/Prayer of Healing, 2/Warding Bond, 2/Augury, 2/Suggestion, 3/Mass Healing Word, 3/Spirit Guardians, 3/Revivify, 3/Nondetection, 3/Speak with Dead
Equipment: Half Plate, +1 Mace, Shield

Xeeta, Tiefling Female Sorcerer, Level 6
AC 12 (15 with mage armor), hp 32, Str 8, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 17
Attacks Dagger +5 melee or ranged (1d4+2)
Background: Urchin
Skills: Deception +6, Intimidation +6, Sleight of Hand +5, Stealth +5
SA Darkvision, Hellish Resistance (fire), Infernal Legacy, 6 Sorcery Points, Wild Magic, Tides of Chaos, Metamagic (Empowered Spell, Quickened Spell)
Spells (SAB +7, DC13, 4 1st level, 3 2nd level, and 3 3rd level slots/day): 0/Fire Bolt, 0/Friends, 0/Mage Hand, 0/Message, 0/True Strike, 1/Burning Hands, 1/Mage Armor, 2/Alter Self, 2/Scorching Ray, 3/Fireball, 3/Haste, 3/Protection from Energy
Equipment: two daggers, +1 Rod of the War Mage (as the wand)

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Supporting characters

Embrae Kelandras, High Elf Monk 6 (Sun Soul)
AC 15, hp 39, Str 8, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 15, Cha10
Attacks: Martial Arts +6 x2 (1d6+3) or Radiant Sun Bolt +6 (1d6+3)
Background: Noble
Skills: Acrobatics +6, History +5, Insight +5, Persuasion +3
SA: +15 movement, 6 Ki points (flurry of blows, patient defense, step of the wind, or stunning strike), Monastic Tradition (Sun Soul), Deflect Missiles, Ki-Empowered Strikes, Searing Arc Strike (as burning hands spell, bonus action)
Spells: Prestidigitation
Equipment: pan flute

Majerion, High Elf Bard 7
AC 14, hp 38, Str 10, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 17
Attacks: Rapier +5 melee (1d8+3)
Background: Noble
Skills: Deception +6, History +5, Investigation +5, Perception +3, Performance +6, Persuasion +6, Sleight of Hand +6, Stealth +6
Spells: 4C, 12 spells known (both include class/race bonuses), 4/3/3/1 per day. 0/Mage Hand, 0/Message, 0/Minor Illusion, 0/Vicious Mockery, 1/Charm Person, 1/Cure Wounds, 1/Faerie Fire, 1/Sleep, 2/Calm Emotions, 2/Invisibility, 2/Suggestion, 3/Dispel Magic, 3/Sending, 3/Tongues, 4/Dimension Door, 4/Greater Invisibility
SA: Bardic Inspiration (d8), Jack of All Trades, Song of Rest (d6), Countercharm, Bard College (Lore), Cutting Words,
Equipment: Leather Armor, Silvered Rapier, Cli Lyre (stone shape, wall of fire, wind wall)

Wow, they're only level six!

Yep, I was actually calculating encounter XP early on, but switched to a variant of milestone XP as the story developed.

Time for the Friday cliffhanger!

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Chapter 199

The sight of trolls crawling over the toppled pews within a holy sanctuary of his god filled Quellan with rage. He let the divine energy of his patron swell in him as he opened his mouth and shouted with enough force to shake the walls, “Invaders in the Temple of Hosrenu!” Augmented by his thaumaturgy, the loud cry would, he hoped, bring every dwarf in this part of the city to their aid.

But they would still have to survive long enough for aid to arrive, he realized as the trolls turned toward them and leapt to attack. Some charged for the open aisle between the pews, the gap narrowed by the damage wrought by the skinhole, but most of them just leapt over the seats, taking the most direct route to their adversaries. Quellan noted that some on the other side of the sinkhole turned instead toward the far exit. At first he thought they were headed out into the dwarven city to cause havoc, but then he saw several trolls pick up one of the heavy stone pews and drag it over to block the doors.

What they want, it’s here, he thought, but he had no chance to share his revelation with Akhenon, as the trolls were coming fast.

The half-orc rushed forward to use the frontmost pew as a rampart, intercepting the first troll before it could clear the waist-high barrier. His mace smashed it hard across the face, but he already knew that these creatures were tough, and that it would take more than that to bring one down. The troll proved his point a moment later as it lunged at him, tearing with its claws and snapping at his face with its broad jaws. Quellan got his shield up in time but the sheer ferocity of the attack drove him back, yielding the protection offered by the raised backs of the stone pews.

Flames roared up out of nothing, filling the interior of the temple. At first Quellan thought it was another attack, but then he saw that the wall of fire had formed a ring around the sinkhole, sealing it off from the rest of the temple. Trolls caught within the barrier screamed in pain, but as they staggered clear Quellan could see the marks in their chests glowing, whatever dark magic that was embedded in those sigils protecting them from the full force of the divine fire.

Akhenon’s magic had gained them a brief respite from troll reinforcements, but did nothing to help the embattled pair of priests against those already present. Even as the flames reached the top of the temple another troll hopped the last pew and charged toward the dwarf cleric, intent on tearing him apart. Quellan pushed the troll still pressing him off with a surge of effort and swung his mace at the other as it rushed past. His mace cracked it hard on the back of its left knee, staggering it and drawing its attention. He didn’t need to look back to know that the first troll would be coming at him from behind, or that he wouldn’t last long with the two creatures flanking him.

On the far side of the room the temple doors rattled, but whoever was on the other side couldn’t immediately shift the weight of the stone pew resting against them. The trolls there were already dragging a second pew over, adding to their improvised barricade.

Quellan thrust the edge of his shield into a troll’s face, putting all of his efforts into keeping the hideous creature at bay. The other had grabbed hold of his weapon arm and was trying to rip the limb out of its socket. He gave ground as both trolls pushed at him, until he reached the raised platform that supported the altar stone. He was barely able to keep from being toppled over onto his back, even as the trolls continued to tear at him. A sharp pain stabbed through his side as an armored plate ripped free from its moorings, and he could feel the tendons in his right arm scream in pain as they were stretched to their limit. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a third troll rapidly approaching, although its presence seemed largely superfluous at the moment. He couldn’t move as the first troll seized his shield and dragged it down; now they had both of his arms pinned. The first let out a screech of triumph and leaned forward to take a bite out of his face.

Chapter 200

Something big and bulky shot past Quellan’s face. It struck the troll and knocked it off of him. The troll collapsed to the floor, the jaws that had seemed so deadly a moment ago transformed into a shattered wreckage. The other one started in surprise, allowing Quellan to tear his arm free and smash it a backhanded blow with his mace. Stumbling clear, the cleric turned to see what unexpected ally had saved him.

What he saw almost caused him to drop his weapon. The thing that had knocked the trolls off of him was the altar stone. The huge block had risen up on its supporting “limbs” and had joined the battle. The mark of the book carved into the central stone was glowing like a halo, adding to the surreal nature of the scene as it clomped down off the platform toward the trolls.

Quellan was so amazed that he almost failed to see the troll charging at him. He heard its cry of triumph and belatedly brought his shield around, but before it could take advantage of his distraction something flew past the cleric and engulfed the troll’s head. It was the altar drape, the linen cloth animated by the same power that had given life to the huge stone.

“They seek the vault!” a familiar voice called. Still slightly dazed, Quellan looked over to see Akhenon gesturing a few feet away. The dwarf cleric appeared to be unhurt, but the half-orc could see that his good fortune would not last long. Even with the animated objects attacking the trolls, the numbers were still against the priests and getting worse by the second. The wall of fire had dissipated, either dispelled or intentionally allowed to fade so that Akhenon could shift his concentration to the other spell. Either way, trolls were still pouring out of the hole in the floor. There were at least a dozen in the room now, and Quellan had no idea how many were still waiting below.

“Fall back to the inner chambers!” Akhenon called. Quellan ran after him, dodging a troll that was grappling with an animated censer-chain. He barely got clear before the creature tore the chain to pieces, the broken links clattering on the floor like a cascade of dropped coins.

Quellan was almost to the door when a hint of unfamiliar motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention back toward the center of the temple. Another intruder had arrived, this one different from the horde of trolls that had preceded him. The most obvious distance was that he was floating in mid-air, hovering a good five feet above the gaping hole of the sinkhole. He was smaller and thinner than the trolls, his frame obscured by a long, cowled cloak that concealed his features within generous folds of black cloth. Quellan couldn’t see his face, but he could feel the figure’s gaze on him as he twisted around in mid-air, calmly surveying the chaos of the battle within the temple.

The screams of the trolls followed the two clerics as they rushed through the door and slammed it shut behind them. Akhenon shot the latch, an iron bolt that would have looked quite secure against a normal foe, but which was less than impressive against what they had already seen.

“That won’t hold them,” Quellan said.

“No,” Akhenon acknowledged. “Can you hold them off for a few moments?”

Quellan nodded. “Is this the only way in?”

“Yes.”

The dwarf started to turn away, but Quellan quickly said, “There’s a spellcaster out there.”

“I saw. I will be right back. Do not let them win through to the Vault.” Without waiting for a response Akhenon hurried off.

Quellan reached over and grabbed hold of a heavy cabinet standing nearby, dragging it to rest against the door. Even as he settled it into place the door shuddered against a heavy impact, and then another. The latch held, but Quellan could imagine the trolls gathering their numbers in anticipation of a serious assault. He could still hear the ponderous thuds as the animated altar continued its defense of the temple, but he doubted it would last long against the unidentified caster whose magic had burrowed a route into the heart of Ironcrest’s defenses.

He thought about what he could do to stop such a foe. His own magic was less suited to an arcane duel than the more destructive potency wielded by Xeeta, but she was with Bredan, lured far away from the true goal of their enemy. It was only blind fate that had brought him and Akhenon back here…

The thought tugged at him, but another hard impact against the door shook him from his reverie. Leaning against the cabinet, adding his own weight to the solidity of the barrier, he closed his eyes and reached up to touch his holy symbol. He opened himself to the power of his god, drawing upon a spell he had never cast before, but which he prayed would aid them in holding back the dark horde that threatened the temple.

The holy symbol began to glow, echoed a moment later by the matching symbol graven into his shield. Other sigils appeared around him, the open book sparkling into being on the door, the cabinet, and the surrounding walls. A pair of books even took shape hovering in the air around his head. Words seemed to form upon the blank pages, constantly shifting before they could take on solid form.

Even as Quellan’s spell took effect, the sounds of fighting from beyond the door suddenly ceased.

Quellan tensed, expecting another assault upon the door, but when the enemy made its gambit it was subtle, catching him off-guard.

The only warning he got was a slight shimmer, not from the door, but in the stone of the surrounding jam. Before he could react the stone suddenly withdrew, leaving the door’s hinges suddenly hanging in mid-air. Several of the heavy iron bolts fell to the ground with a clatter. Almost immediately several sets of clawed hands thrust into the gap and pulled the now-anchorless door clear. The cabinet that Quellan had moved settled against the jam, leaving at least something of a barrier, but the trolls had already proven their ability to scamper over or around any obstacle.

The door was barely out of the way before another one of them sought to prove that anew. The troll hissed at Quellan as it hurled itself bodily through the doorway, trying to clear the cabinet in a single bound, but as it passed through the threshold it ran into the cleric’s spell. The glowing sigils he had conjured had faded after the casting but now they brightened again. The one that had settled on the door now hovered in mid-air, and as the troll struck it there was a radiant burst that seared the troll and caused it to scream in pain. Quellan quickly took advantage of its distraction, slamming it hard with his shield and knocking it back out of the doorway.

But he had gained only a momentary respite. The first troll had barely hit the ground when two others rushed over it, one even using its fallen ally as a stepping-stone. One grabbed onto the cabinet and pulled it over onto its side. Again the spirit guardians flashed, but this time the trolls were ready and gritted through the pain. Quellan noted that the holy power did not appear to be affected by whatever resistance the trolls’ embedded sigils granted them, but his magic clearly wasn’t going to be able to stop them on its own.

So he charged, pushing forward until he blocked the doorway with his sheer bulk, using the overturned cabinet as a shield for his legs. He struck the first troll with his mace, dazing it slightly but failing to bring it down. The second he smashed with the edge of his shield, knocking it off balance. He could see more trolls waiting behind these two, but for the moment they could not get past him.

His lips twisted into a snarl as he prepared for their counterattack, but to his surprise the trolls withdrew, the one he’d hit with his shield dropping back while the other one threw itself prone. Too late he realized what that portended, as he lowered his shield to see the dark-cloaked figure standing there not twenty feet away, its arm raised to point toward him.

A pulse of white energy filled his vision. His nostrils were filled with the sound of overcooked meat. He realized that he was on his back, several paces back from the open doorway. The cabinet had been shattered and was on fire. The glowing spirit guardians were gone.

Through a sheer effort of will, aided by the relentless endurance of his orcish bloodline, he managed to pull himself back to his feet. He was still holding onto his mace, though his muscles didn’t seem to want to work right as he tried to raise the weapon into a fighting position. But at least he would die standing, he thought as the trolls surged forward again.

Chapter 201

Quellan readied himself to sell his life for as high a cost as possible, though he knew that in his current state even a single blow from one of those trolls would likely kill him.

But even as the trolls charged through the doorway the gap was engulfed in fire. Quellan’s first thought was that there had been something flammable within the broken cabinet, but as the flames intensified he realized what it was. He turned to see Akhenon standing in the mouth of the hallway that led back to his private quarters. The old dwarf looked different. He had not had time to put on armor, but he wore a set of heavy metal gauntlets that protected his hands and forearms, and he’d replaced his robe with a thick leather vest fastened with a broad steel buckle the size of a dinner plate. In one hand he carried a blockish steel shield that bore the sigil of Hosrenu, but this book, unlike the one that Quellan bore on his arm, was surrounded by flames and superimposed on broad anvil. In his other hand he carried a mace that made even the hefty orc-weapon Quellan carried look petite. Its head was wreathed in flames that echoed the conflagration burning in the doorway.

“We hold here,” the dwarf declared, in a way that made the statement a simple fact.

Quellan was glad to yield the doorway to him, taking advantage of the respite to cast cure wounds upon himself. He was running out of spells but he dug deep into his reservoir, letting the benign magic restore some of what the enemy wizard had blasted out of him.

Whatever motivated the trolls, it was already clear that they weren’t going to let even a roaring sheet of fire stop them. And even as the healing magic coursed through Quellan the first of the trolls leapt through it, the flames clinging to its body as it stumbled slightly on the burning wreckage of the cabinet. Akhenon met it with a dwarven battle cry, sweeping his mace into the center of its torso. Quellan though that he hit hard, but the old dwarf’s strength was truly impressive. The head of the mace exploded with flames as it struck, and the troll was knocked over backwards, landing in a smoking heap on the edge of the wall of fire.

More trolls came in the wake of the first, appearing first as dark shadows that took on solid form as they passed through the burning wall. Quellan rushed forward to join Akhenon. “The wizard’s out there!” he warned.

“I know,” Akhenon said. “I can feel him, trying to take down my magic.”

But whether the cleric’s will was stronger, or the unseen enemy just needed more time, the wall of fire remained, at least for the moment. The trolls kept on pushing, and Akhenon and Quellan met them together with steel and fire.

Awesome!

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* * *

Chapter 202

The next day found more slow going for Glori and her companions, as the landscape in the Reserve grew more rugged. The trees thinned out somewhat, but that only allowed the undergrowth to thicken until the party had to hack a route through clinging bushes and tangles of weeds that rose to chest-height in places. The fact that they were all still exhausted from a mostly-sleepless night didn’t help matters.

Ultimately, they’d decided to remain at the Tender outpost, for even after the damage wrought in the attack it was still the most fortified place they could hope to find. The fire did not spread to the other cabins but it continued to burn until almost morning, until the gray smoke that rose from the ruin met the gathering morning fog to form a dense pall around them.

They found no sign whatsoever of Razelle, despite repeated and extensive searches by Shreskra and her rangers. Nor were they able to get any answers out of Brightbriar. There hadn’t been much left of the altered creature that Embrae had burned to examine, and the suggestion that the two of them had once been members of his order had left the Tender in a distressed funk. He walked in the center of their diminished column, not speaking unless spoken to, and often then only after repeated inquiries.

They all remained much closer together that day, a lesson already learned repeatedly in the harsh school of the Reserve. Glori’s thoughts felt sluggish, though she forced herself to frequently check her surroundings, wary of whatever new tricks the forest might offer.

Kosk and Embrae engaged in scattered conversation across the morning, some of which Glori overheard.

“I did not know that you were a devotee of the Sun Soul,” the dwarf asked as they were making their way slowly up an exposed ridge, the latest in a series of increasingly difficult obstacles that had greeted them that day. On being prodded Brightbriar reported that there was no easy route around them; the ridges had to be defeated through sheer effort. Fortunately, they were not too steep to climb, and for the most part the Rangers were able to keep their ropes and climbing hooks in their packs.

“I felt drawn to it,” Embrae said, in answer to Kosk’s question.

Glori stopped, her curiosity awakened by their conversation. “Is that another kind of ki, those blasts of energy you shot at that thing?” she asked.

“Followers of the sun soul learn how to channel radiant energy through their bodies,” Embrae explained. “It is a form of magic, but one that is bound to the life force within a trained monk.”

“That fire you hit it with at the end… I’ve seen Xeeta use a similar magic,” Glori said.

“It seemed particularly effective against these foes,” Kosk said. “I wonder if those Tenders were undead.”

“They weren’t like the things we fought in the past, but I suppose it’s possible,” Glori said. “I didn’t sense any decay, rather the opposite.”

“Well, the one I fought didn’t react like a living creature,” Kosk said. “Embrae, what do you think?”

“I could sense something… I do not know if it was the lingering taint of undeath, but there was definitely some power driving those things,” Embrae said. “It felt like the body had become a shell for something else to use. The thought of something corrupting living beings like that… it is troubling.”

“From what I saw, there were some disturbing similarities between those two and what happened to Javerin,” Glori said.

“That’s a cheerful thought,” Kosk said.

“I hope that she is still alive,” Embrae said.

“I’ll wager that this Druid we’re looking for is involved in all this,” Kosk said. “I am not quite sure of our guide, either.”

He added the last more quietly, but Glori still glanced over at Brightbriar, just a few paces ahead in their column. But the Tender continued to trudge forward with his head lowered, seemingly oblivious.

“Either way, we have to find out,” Embrae said. “The corruption we have already seen in the Reserve… it is too dangerous to let be. We must seek out its source, and if we can, purge it.”

“I’ll just add that to the bloody to-do list, then,” Kosk muttered.

The terrain continued to grow more difficult as the day went on. Once they passed the last of the series of ridges the forest floor became more level, but the ground quickly became softer, then spongy as they found themselves entering a marshland. Pools of stagnant water appeared around them, growing in size and frequency until they had to pick their way carefully around them. The trees that had thinned through their progress through the ridges returned with a vengeance, until once again the sky was only visible through occasional gaps in the canopy above.

Glori grimaced as her boot sank almost to the cuff into a muddy bog. “How far does this go?” she asked. “Brightbriar! How long do we have to go through this?”

The Tender turned to look at her. “Not long,” he said. “The ground rises again on the far side of the mirk.”

Glori wasn’t entirely happy with the answer, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. The Tender seemed like he was barely keeping it together, and they still needed him too much for her to push him over the edge. Shreskra, on the other hand, had become almost manic. She hadn’t issued any orders to Glori or her companions since the fight at the Outpost, but she kept pushing her Rangers hard, driving them to a faster pace. She spent much of her time at the front of the column herself, probing ahead for a route that wouldn’t force them to swim through a deep pool or get tangled in dense growth. Maybe it was guilt over her missing companion, Glori thought. Or maybe she just wanted to get them to their destination before any more of them disappeared.

Despite the Ranger leader’s urging, their progress slowed further as the swamp thickened. They never found an obstacle that was unsurmountable, but within an hour they were all coated in mud and soaked through. The bugs had also returned, buzzing aggressively around them as if to make up for lost time. Glori began to worry that night would catch up to them before they reached the far side, forcing them to camp in this unwholesome place.

But even as her thought darkened the ground started to become steadier ahead, and they were able to pick up their pace once more. The pools continued to surround them, but were now easily avoided. The trees began to thin out once more, allowing Glori to catch a glimpse of what looked like a series of low cliffs rising up from the forest floor ahead of them, offering the promise of an escape from the swamp.

The exhausted company emerged from the trees to see that the cliffs extended for as far as they could see to their left and right. They did not look like too difficult an obstacle; they ranged from twenty to thirty feet high, but there were places where it looked like one might venture an ascent. The scattered pools extended up to their very base, choked with dense growth, but there were plenty of places where the ground looked solid.

But there was something else that they noticed immediately. Someone was waiting for them.

A dark figure stood atop the cliffs, almost directly ahead. It was a man, or at least it looked like a man, covered in a long cloak that ruffled slightly in the breeze. A deep cowl covered his face.