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Itching from the countless phantom arrow wounds that punctured his heavy plate mail, Xerxes watched as a bolt of flame blossomed over the Elsir. Pained screams and the stench of cooked flesh wafted over the waters, filtering through his spirit-forged helm. Marcus had set the fireball rolling...

Marcus looked out across the Elsir at the massed numbers of the Red Hand. They were numberless, baying wolf-riders from the Wazlad Steppe, hulking giantkin out of the Iron Peaks, and row upon row of disciplined Hobgoblin Clansmen from Srax. Crowding the sky were chimera and wyverns, and above...

Having set off at mid-day, the four of them had managed to reach the Witchwood by nightfall. The forest was still and silent, the quiet broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl. A faint rumble in the distance seemed to herald a storm. Sol lead the way, his great axe rested on his shoulder...

Marcus stared into his cup, as if a sage trying to divine the future. He had awoken only fully that morn, five days since… He’d had enough time to the recover strength to travel. He had decided to return to the Ferry, to warn them of the threat, and perhaps to gather willing swords to go north...

Session 5: New faces, the Battle of Drellin's Ferry Xerxes pushed the door to the Apple, the humbler of Drellin’s Ferry’s two alehouses, aside. It was near empty, noted the northerner, only a few off-duty guards in attendance. There was another as well, a cloaked figure. His pulse quickened...

I'd probably have it remove the funny clouds over the Mournlands, but that's the extent of what I'd let it do. That would leave a ruined waste, filled with monsters but which regular humans could now attempt to colonise. This might also lead to the Lord of Blades stepping up his plans (no...

There was darkness, and light. Pain and heat followed by coolness. Earthy smells, tainted by the coppery tang of blood. Rough, skilled hands carried him, nursed him. Relief flooded him at the familiar touch. His friends must have won through. “Tom…” Marcus’ voice was a harsh whisper. Pain! He...

Session 4: Skull Gorge Bridge Peering through the tree-line, the four companions looked out over Skull Gorge Bridge. The structure, spanning nearly two hundred feet across the gorge, was Great Empire work and, despite being six centuries old, perhaps more, looked solid. Patrolling the near edge...

Tom Morris was a true son of Bereg, and had a knack for stone. He and Marduk were pressed to the floor of the bugbear’s chambers, the dwarf gently tapping the flagstones. “Hear that my lamb?” He tapped again. Marduk did not, but he nodded dutifully. “That is hollow. Which means” Tom sat up...

In the other room, Marcus was alone in darkness. Distant, he heard voices calling, the clash of weaponry and replying screams of pain. Marduk had been struck down. Silence, broken by Tom’s quiet prayers. An inhalation and cough. Movement. There, shouts in goblin from overhead, ignored by the...

Session 3: Marduk Scouts, and the assault on Vraath Keep Not-being-seen was strange. He was sure that touching things would break the spell, but that made moving in a forest hard, with all the branches. He decided it would be best to crawl along on his belly. Would that count as touching? It...

The sun was low in the sky, and the shadows of the trees stretched long fingers, darkening with the encroaching night. The air was heavy with the smell of wet earth, and echoing through the boughs came the slow gurgle of a stream. The Dawn Way was submerged under boggy water, and the ground had...

The next morning, Marduk terrified the stable boy, the fright only compounded by the appearance of Tom Morris and Marcus from other stalls. They had decided they would rather spend the night in solidarity with their friend, sleeping with the horses, than enjoy comfortable beds while he...

Session 2: Drellin's Ferry, an old man, and a problem with "Snakes" The Dawn Way broadened and dipped, like a stony twin to the slow moving river Elsir it ran alongside. The companions smelt wood smoke ahead and could glimpse a few homes already, along with tiny skiffs tied up on the broad...

Chapter One: The Witchwood Four bold adventuers moved slowly along the Dawn Way, relic of the Great Empire. They had travelled three weeks from holdings of the Gathics, having opted to move northward, to Elsir, in pursuit of treasures detailed in a faded map uncovered in the lair of Goblin...

I honestly don't see them problem. You mentioned that the hulking Barbarian has ranks in all those skills, as well as the 20 Strength, and so could not unfairly be labelled as something of an athlete. It's hardly surprising that he smashed the opposition.

I agree with Elemental. It sounds like a hoot. One day I too would like to beat down a Demon Prince using a disco-style bowling ball. Top job Jubilee.

Eccles, You've switched from first to third person perspective there. Is there a reason for this? Good story hour by the way. I'm really enjoying the exploits of this merry band.

The explanation for the name in the book actually made sense to me. Not because magic and swordplay are opposites, but because they are different states, which the Duskblade bridges - the dusk being a reference to the twilight period of the day, when the world changes over.

Top story hour. I'm looking forward to the next installments.