A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour - updated 19th December
- Thread starter Spider_Jerusalem
- Start date
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
Cheers Palskane, I'm glad you're enjoying this!Palskane said:
The chapter coming up (Another Brick in the Wall) is one of my favourites of the Chronicle. It's quite a long one, and I'm scribbling away trying to make up some small maps for you guys - just as a bit of an explanation (and it means I get to draw on all those cool battle-arrows we all love).
Anyway.
Spider J
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour
Chapter 10: Another Brick in the Wall
"They’re worth at least a hundred gold pieces on the Streets of Amn!"
Torious withdrew Freedom’s Edge from the flailing Peryton and stepped back as the life drained from its beaded eyes.
“Justice found you too late, demon” spat Torious, looking back at the folded body of a village child. An estranged mother was huddled at its side, wailing into the sky.
Vaerana threw her shield into the snow and swept her hair away from her face, wincing as the talon gash on her shoulder stung with pain. She waved at the huddled villagers and gave a thumbs-up, only just maintaining a smile as pain shot through her again.
Milo, Thalin and Mikka stood around the felled body of the Peryton, their respective crossbow bolts slanting into the air from the bulk of the beast. The villagers scampered over to the mother and her dead child, chiding Tymora for such ill fortune and dragging the shaking woman away from her son. Milo considered telling them Tymora was a personal friend, but thought better of it.
The sound of sawing made the halfling turn around. Milo joined Thalin to watch as Mikka sawed through one of the thick Peryton antlers with a feverish grin. Mikka stopped and looking up at the them like a captured animal.
“It’s very rare. They’re worth at least a hundred gold pieces on the Streets of Amn!” Mikka cried defensively.
Thalin shook his head and walked away. Milo quickly unsheathed Vampire and began to help.
Torious’ boots crunched in the snow as he came to a stop next to Vaerana, his eyes followed her gaze into the valley that lay spread before them.
“That’s Ilinvur” said Vaerana, her voice sad.
Torious nodded slowly, his aasimar eyes picking out the distant cluster of buildings, “It’s not that far, perhaps another days walk”
“Perhaps”
Torious glanced at Vaerana, her profile a deep red against the slopes of white, “You’re hurt” Torious said with obvious concern, noticing the crimson stain that was spreading across her shoulder.
“Torious, it’s nothing, I’m fine. Go and tend to the townsfolk.”
“No,” said Torious.
His hand reached up to Vaerana’s shoulder. Vaerana pushed away from him, her face twitching in pain as her arm jarred against Torious’ armour. He gripped Vaerana's arm, though he was careful not to twist her shoulder any further.
“You’re not fine. Let me help.”
Vaerana tensed for a moment before turning her shoulder towards Torious, “Thank you”
Milo stood next to Mikka, each of the half men holding an antler just as tall as they were. Milo nudged the tiefling and pointed at Torious and Vaerana, then mimed being sick. Thalin lightly cuffed the halfling round the head as he walked past, the procession of villagers drifting behind him as he began to tread towards the valley floor.
Thalin watched Torious and Vaerana. The aasimar’s hand was placed lightly on the woman’s shoulder and both of them gazed into the valley beneath them.
“Don’t be a fool” whispered Thalin under his breath, his thoughts once again swimming with the warning of the burnt man: You cannot trust that woman in red.…
Chapter 10: Another Brick in the Wall
"They’re worth at least a hundred gold pieces on the Streets of Amn!"
- - - - - - - - - -
Torious withdrew Freedom’s Edge from the flailing Peryton and stepped back as the life drained from its beaded eyes.
“Justice found you too late, demon” spat Torious, looking back at the folded body of a village child. An estranged mother was huddled at its side, wailing into the sky.
Vaerana threw her shield into the snow and swept her hair away from her face, wincing as the talon gash on her shoulder stung with pain. She waved at the huddled villagers and gave a thumbs-up, only just maintaining a smile as pain shot through her again.
Milo, Thalin and Mikka stood around the felled body of the Peryton, their respective crossbow bolts slanting into the air from the bulk of the beast. The villagers scampered over to the mother and her dead child, chiding Tymora for such ill fortune and dragging the shaking woman away from her son. Milo considered telling them Tymora was a personal friend, but thought better of it.
The sound of sawing made the halfling turn around. Milo joined Thalin to watch as Mikka sawed through one of the thick Peryton antlers with a feverish grin. Mikka stopped and looking up at the them like a captured animal.
“It’s very rare. They’re worth at least a hundred gold pieces on the Streets of Amn!” Mikka cried defensively.
Thalin shook his head and walked away. Milo quickly unsheathed Vampire and began to help.
Torious’ boots crunched in the snow as he came to a stop next to Vaerana, his eyes followed her gaze into the valley that lay spread before them.
“That’s Ilinvur” said Vaerana, her voice sad.
Torious nodded slowly, his aasimar eyes picking out the distant cluster of buildings, “It’s not that far, perhaps another days walk”
“Perhaps”
Torious glanced at Vaerana, her profile a deep red against the slopes of white, “You’re hurt” Torious said with obvious concern, noticing the crimson stain that was spreading across her shoulder.
“Torious, it’s nothing, I’m fine. Go and tend to the townsfolk.”
“No,” said Torious.
His hand reached up to Vaerana’s shoulder. Vaerana pushed away from him, her face twitching in pain as her arm jarred against Torious’ armour. He gripped Vaerana's arm, though he was careful not to twist her shoulder any further.
“You’re not fine. Let me help.”
Vaerana tensed for a moment before turning her shoulder towards Torious, “Thank you”
Milo stood next to Mikka, each of the half men holding an antler just as tall as they were. Milo nudged the tiefling and pointed at Torious and Vaerana, then mimed being sick. Thalin lightly cuffed the halfling round the head as he walked past, the procession of villagers drifting behind him as he began to tread towards the valley floor.
Thalin watched Torious and Vaerana. The aasimar’s hand was placed lightly on the woman’s shoulder and both of them gazed into the valley beneath them.
“Don’t be a fool” whispered Thalin under his breath, his thoughts once again swimming with the warning of the burnt man: You cannot trust that woman in red.…
Last edited:
OaxacanWarrior
First Post
Spider_Jerusalem said:
This is just a beautiful mental picture.
Excellent writing, as usual, Spider!
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
Cheers! It has been hard to convey some of the scenes throughout the writing so far, because there were so many moments like that. I think these later chapters are better because I started to write them in more frequently rather than concentrate on the kill count of it all. Glad you appreciate it.OaxacanWarrior said:This is just a beautiful mental picture.
And plus, Mikka and Milo had the best intentions to sell their wares on, but as usual things go awry.
Well, the heroes hit the border wall on the next update. It was great to DM my first miniature-seige-attack... turned out well and plenty of neat little moments. Though poor Milo.
Anyway. Enough of me.
Spider J
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
Thanks Funeris. Your continued support does wonders, trust me.Funeris said:Hmmm...doesn't show
Still here. Still reading. Still pleased and impressed.
Good job, SpiderJ.
I'm about to start working for the Edinburgh International Film Festival next week, so apologies in advance if posts get a touch sporadic. I've got my soul set on updating at my usual schedule, but social stuff and all that jazz could well impact on my plans.
Next update tomorrow.
Enjoy the Wall.
Spider J
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
"Who’s to say we can’t just walk through?"
Thalin and Torious walked ahead of the villagers, shoulder to shoulder in silence, their faces both flecked by ice. Thalin’s scraggly beard had grown into a wiry brown mane, though his eyes darted as quick as ever in their sunken sockets. Thalin had listened carefully to Torious' talk over the past few days, but had kept his tongue guarded. The Aasimar had quickly chosen his side of the woman in red conundrum, basing this on what Thalin could only assume to be a childish infatuation.
Thalin refused to add comment when Torious asked his viewpoint. He was determined to stay perfectly neutral to both of the women in red, or at least until something could be proven against them. Despite his talk, Thalin did have particular reservations over Vaerana. She had charmed everyone and had certainly proven her worth as a fighter, but something didn't ring true. Thalin had caught her a few times staring into the campfire, her eyes all but lost in the flames. When she had noticed him watching, she had flashed that disarming smile and pressed Thalin on this subject and that.
Thalin was worried. Errilinth had kept to herself since the frost giants, helping with the village children when she was needed. Torious, his boots a familiar crunch in the snow next to his, had become quite the conversationalist and had explained his life story to Vaerana in a few brutally boring monologues. The poor boy didn't know which way to turn, let alone how to talk to a woman. Thalin knew only a little more, but had decided that the judgemental high ground was the place to be. Thalin turned to look at his companion. As he did so, Torious clenched his hand like a military leader and pointed ahead.
Both adventurers slowed as the path suddenly widened, spreading out on both sides to form a flat, level field whose sides sharply rose in two hills of snow. A fortified wall lay between the hills, a huge gatehouse standing sentinel where the road ran through it. This was the entrance into the valley.
Waving for everyone to stop, Torious crouched down onto his haunches and brought his keen sight to bear. His eyes focused over the length of the wall, its frosted stonework tying together the two snow-strewn slopes. The wall was perhaps ten feet tall but he assumed it to be quite thick, as figures stood on the ramparts. Soldiers glinted in the morning light as they traipsed the walls in twos or threes.
Torious counted perhaps twenty guards in total, but of course, more would be inside. His eyes fell to the frost bitten gates, their heavy wood latticed with iron and a glistening red symbol of Kossuth bolted on, apparently having only just been finished. The aasimar looked back over his shoulder at Thalin, Milo, Mikka and Vaerana with a disgusted shake of his head.
Milo and Mikka sat playing a game of snap with a handful of skee, the clatter of the little slate pieces the only sound as Torious picked his way towards them. He crouched down and snatched Milo’s winning stone away.
“Hey!” Milo bleated,
“Milo. Shut up. This is bad, I don’t know if we can get through there”
Thalin folded his arms and pulled his wolf skin cloak a littler tighter as a chill climbed up his spine, “Well, we can’t go back now. Who’s to say we can’t just walk through?”
“Robar does. He would have told them to watch out for us, he knows we’re alive”, Torious countered, his voice a steely growl, “His sins will burn in Tyr's wrathful glare!”
Mikka chimed in, his voice chattering in the cold, “Easy now. This isn’t really the time for rash decisions. We need to get to the plains before my bottle of Vassan 1294 Red freezes, it will be ruined”, Mikka saw the others glare at him, “And save those poor villagers, of course”.
Thalin and Torious walked ahead of the villagers, shoulder to shoulder in silence, their faces both flecked by ice. Thalin’s scraggly beard had grown into a wiry brown mane, though his eyes darted as quick as ever in their sunken sockets. Thalin had listened carefully to Torious' talk over the past few days, but had kept his tongue guarded. The Aasimar had quickly chosen his side of the woman in red conundrum, basing this on what Thalin could only assume to be a childish infatuation.
Thalin refused to add comment when Torious asked his viewpoint. He was determined to stay perfectly neutral to both of the women in red, or at least until something could be proven against them. Despite his talk, Thalin did have particular reservations over Vaerana. She had charmed everyone and had certainly proven her worth as a fighter, but something didn't ring true. Thalin had caught her a few times staring into the campfire, her eyes all but lost in the flames. When she had noticed him watching, she had flashed that disarming smile and pressed Thalin on this subject and that.
Thalin was worried. Errilinth had kept to herself since the frost giants, helping with the village children when she was needed. Torious, his boots a familiar crunch in the snow next to his, had become quite the conversationalist and had explained his life story to Vaerana in a few brutally boring monologues. The poor boy didn't know which way to turn, let alone how to talk to a woman. Thalin knew only a little more, but had decided that the judgemental high ground was the place to be. Thalin turned to look at his companion. As he did so, Torious clenched his hand like a military leader and pointed ahead.
Both adventurers slowed as the path suddenly widened, spreading out on both sides to form a flat, level field whose sides sharply rose in two hills of snow. A fortified wall lay between the hills, a huge gatehouse standing sentinel where the road ran through it. This was the entrance into the valley.
Waving for everyone to stop, Torious crouched down onto his haunches and brought his keen sight to bear. His eyes focused over the length of the wall, its frosted stonework tying together the two snow-strewn slopes. The wall was perhaps ten feet tall but he assumed it to be quite thick, as figures stood on the ramparts. Soldiers glinted in the morning light as they traipsed the walls in twos or threes.
Torious counted perhaps twenty guards in total, but of course, more would be inside. His eyes fell to the frost bitten gates, their heavy wood latticed with iron and a glistening red symbol of Kossuth bolted on, apparently having only just been finished. The aasimar looked back over his shoulder at Thalin, Milo, Mikka and Vaerana with a disgusted shake of his head.
Milo and Mikka sat playing a game of snap with a handful of skee, the clatter of the little slate pieces the only sound as Torious picked his way towards them. He crouched down and snatched Milo’s winning stone away.
“Hey!” Milo bleated,
“Milo. Shut up. This is bad, I don’t know if we can get through there”
Thalin folded his arms and pulled his wolf skin cloak a littler tighter as a chill climbed up his spine, “Well, we can’t go back now. Who’s to say we can’t just walk through?”
“Robar does. He would have told them to watch out for us, he knows we’re alive”, Torious countered, his voice a steely growl, “His sins will burn in Tyr's wrathful glare!”
Mikka chimed in, his voice chattering in the cold, “Easy now. This isn’t really the time for rash decisions. We need to get to the plains before my bottle of Vassan 1294 Red freezes, it will be ruined”, Mikka saw the others glare at him, “And save those poor villagers, of course”.
Spider_Jerusalem
Explorer
Interlude Number Seven: A Tale of Misfortune
Callum Eelhold sighed as his lank hair slipped from beneath his mage’s hat and fell into his eyes again. Brushing it away, he adjusted his wizards robes and cast a look over his companions. They sat as all traveller’s do at night, huddled in a circle round a small fire. Brakkat sat proud, the half-orc’s sinew-laden neck aching as he bellowed out drunken thoughts at their new found companion.
They had picked up the elf in the nearby forest. The elf had shown admirable restraint and retained his silence. Poor lad, thought Callum, though he was probably older than all the rest of us put together.
“Eat more elf! You are so thin!” yelled Brakkat, spraying chunks of bread across the rest of the party. The abrasive laughter echoed like a mad ghost in the ruins of the town hall. The half-orc’s humour had quickly become something of a sorespot in the past few days. Callum tried to smile, but wondered inwardly if he could lose the barbarian at the next town. The dynamics of his team would be thrown to the winds, but mercenaries were dime a dozen, well at least they were a little further south. And the Elf was good with a bow of course, so that was something to be thankful for.
Callum thought that despite being such a fledgling band of heroes, and still with a lot to prove, he could be given a break at some point. He had heard tales of a bard in Ilinvur, capable of fighting with three swords at once. This seemed ludicrous to the mage, but could be worth checking out. Just in case. Whichever it was, he wanted out of this burnt out ruin as soon as morning came. Two dead ettin bodies are never the best omen for a nights rest.
Juddon Morningbeam, adept-priest of Lathander, wiggled a finger in his ear and went to interject to Brakkart’s shouting, but Callum caught his eye across the campfire and waved a finger to say ‘no’. Juddon, never the one to argue that much anyway, returned to his ecclesiastical sulk.
“Well, It’s about time I let Limo off the hook,” laughed Callum, “his watch was over a while ago.”
The elf looked up as Callum pulled himself to a stand, “my companion, I wish to earn my share and I shall go on watch. My ears are keener than a fox and my sight like that of an owl, I can…”
“Whatever,” interrupted Callum, “Look, you’ve joined with us and I’m quite happy for you to put the work in, but I do things just the way I like them and that’s that.”
Before the elf could answer, Callum turned on his heel and stalked into the night air. A persistent rain slapped him in face and he felt his robe’s grow heavy. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been that blunt, but then again a new recruit needs to know his place. Anyway, where in Hades was Limo? That damn halfling never stayed still.
“Limo?” called Callum, his voice lost in the surrounding trees as he stepped from the hall steps and strained to see any further. A tinny smell hit the back of his throat. “Limo?”
Callum went to call again, but his voice shrivelled as a head-splitting howl bayed across the deserted village. A heart beat later, another grinding howl greeted the mage, this time from his other side. Callum turned to run. His sodden robes caught beneath his feet and he fell onto the steps. Looking sideways through the rain streaked gloom, Limo’s dead face stared back at the mage. From his neck down the halfling was a bloody wreck. His body had been torn asunder and thrown onto the steps. Callum had walked right past his gutted corpse.
Three howls chorused in unison and Callum saw Brakkart silhoutted at the top of the steps. Callum went to rise but instead slid backwards, his foot pulled from beneath him. A brilliant pain crashed up his leg and Callum saw an immense wolf crouched over him. The beast's body whirred and hissed, metal and fur equally dank fron the rain. His leg was being swallowed as he watched. Two more wolves pounded up the steps, Callum thought their bodies were sleek and beautiful. A fourth wolf padded out of the night and tore the mage’s head from his body.
At the top of the steps, Brakkart slammed the doors closed. They were thin at best, and he only just managed to keep them together as a vicious weight thudded against the wood. His companions were up in seconds, their weapons ready. Brakkart joined his companions in a defensive line as the door thundered twice more, splinters showering from the hinges. Howls filled the hall. Suddenly, the door fell silent.
The adventurers stood as any three companions could. An axe, a bow and a mace ready for whatever came through the door. Nothing was said between them.
Brakkart saw a shadow glide across the fractured door. An eye shone brilliant in the firelight, then backed away. A moment later, a small black coin dropped through the gap and span on the floor.
Arkella Noreth stepped back as a sudden frenzy of snarls and horrific laughter erupted within the hall. A number of screams vaulted free, but were quickly silenced. Onyx cowered back, sensing whatever it was that had been summoned. Idiot animal. She considered opening the door to see what it was that had forced its way into being, but thought better of it. She had no cause to ask what was in the coins, just accept what she had been given and be thankful for it.
Thick white fingers crept from the gaps of the hall door and began to pry the wood apart. Arkella was reminded of maggots bursting through dead flesh. Arkella clapped her gloves together and Onyx bounded down the steps.
She had found the trail of the staff again, that was what was important. All she had to do was catch up. Sometimes she thought she could sense the staff, but that was her imagination, she was quite sure. She pulled her veil tighter about her mouth.
A taloned hand punched through the door, accompanied by a violent thrash of anticipation.
Arkella turned and followed her Onyx, her form silently slipping away into the dark and back onto the trail of Erifeci.
Callum Eelhold sighed as his lank hair slipped from beneath his mage’s hat and fell into his eyes again. Brushing it away, he adjusted his wizards robes and cast a look over his companions. They sat as all traveller’s do at night, huddled in a circle round a small fire. Brakkat sat proud, the half-orc’s sinew-laden neck aching as he bellowed out drunken thoughts at their new found companion.
They had picked up the elf in the nearby forest. The elf had shown admirable restraint and retained his silence. Poor lad, thought Callum, though he was probably older than all the rest of us put together.
“Eat more elf! You are so thin!” yelled Brakkat, spraying chunks of bread across the rest of the party. The abrasive laughter echoed like a mad ghost in the ruins of the town hall. The half-orc’s humour had quickly become something of a sorespot in the past few days. Callum tried to smile, but wondered inwardly if he could lose the barbarian at the next town. The dynamics of his team would be thrown to the winds, but mercenaries were dime a dozen, well at least they were a little further south. And the Elf was good with a bow of course, so that was something to be thankful for.
Callum thought that despite being such a fledgling band of heroes, and still with a lot to prove, he could be given a break at some point. He had heard tales of a bard in Ilinvur, capable of fighting with three swords at once. This seemed ludicrous to the mage, but could be worth checking out. Just in case. Whichever it was, he wanted out of this burnt out ruin as soon as morning came. Two dead ettin bodies are never the best omen for a nights rest.
Juddon Morningbeam, adept-priest of Lathander, wiggled a finger in his ear and went to interject to Brakkart’s shouting, but Callum caught his eye across the campfire and waved a finger to say ‘no’. Juddon, never the one to argue that much anyway, returned to his ecclesiastical sulk.
“Well, It’s about time I let Limo off the hook,” laughed Callum, “his watch was over a while ago.”
The elf looked up as Callum pulled himself to a stand, “my companion, I wish to earn my share and I shall go on watch. My ears are keener than a fox and my sight like that of an owl, I can…”
“Whatever,” interrupted Callum, “Look, you’ve joined with us and I’m quite happy for you to put the work in, but I do things just the way I like them and that’s that.”
Before the elf could answer, Callum turned on his heel and stalked into the night air. A persistent rain slapped him in face and he felt his robe’s grow heavy. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been that blunt, but then again a new recruit needs to know his place. Anyway, where in Hades was Limo? That damn halfling never stayed still.
“Limo?” called Callum, his voice lost in the surrounding trees as he stepped from the hall steps and strained to see any further. A tinny smell hit the back of his throat. “Limo?”
Callum went to call again, but his voice shrivelled as a head-splitting howl bayed across the deserted village. A heart beat later, another grinding howl greeted the mage, this time from his other side. Callum turned to run. His sodden robes caught beneath his feet and he fell onto the steps. Looking sideways through the rain streaked gloom, Limo’s dead face stared back at the mage. From his neck down the halfling was a bloody wreck. His body had been torn asunder and thrown onto the steps. Callum had walked right past his gutted corpse.
Three howls chorused in unison and Callum saw Brakkart silhoutted at the top of the steps. Callum went to rise but instead slid backwards, his foot pulled from beneath him. A brilliant pain crashed up his leg and Callum saw an immense wolf crouched over him. The beast's body whirred and hissed, metal and fur equally dank fron the rain. His leg was being swallowed as he watched. Two more wolves pounded up the steps, Callum thought their bodies were sleek and beautiful. A fourth wolf padded out of the night and tore the mage’s head from his body.
At the top of the steps, Brakkart slammed the doors closed. They were thin at best, and he only just managed to keep them together as a vicious weight thudded against the wood. His companions were up in seconds, their weapons ready. Brakkart joined his companions in a defensive line as the door thundered twice more, splinters showering from the hinges. Howls filled the hall. Suddenly, the door fell silent.
The adventurers stood as any three companions could. An axe, a bow and a mace ready for whatever came through the door. Nothing was said between them.
Brakkart saw a shadow glide across the fractured door. An eye shone brilliant in the firelight, then backed away. A moment later, a small black coin dropped through the gap and span on the floor.
- - - - - - - - -
Arkella Noreth stepped back as a sudden frenzy of snarls and horrific laughter erupted within the hall. A number of screams vaulted free, but were quickly silenced. Onyx cowered back, sensing whatever it was that had been summoned. Idiot animal. She considered opening the door to see what it was that had forced its way into being, but thought better of it. She had no cause to ask what was in the coins, just accept what she had been given and be thankful for it.
Thick white fingers crept from the gaps of the hall door and began to pry the wood apart. Arkella was reminded of maggots bursting through dead flesh. Arkella clapped her gloves together and Onyx bounded down the steps.
She had found the trail of the staff again, that was what was important. All she had to do was catch up. Sometimes she thought she could sense the staff, but that was her imagination, she was quite sure. She pulled her veil tighter about her mouth.
A taloned hand punched through the door, accompanied by a violent thrash of anticipation.
Arkella turned and followed her Onyx, her form silently slipping away into the dark and back onto the trail of Erifeci.
Last edited:
freedoms_edge
First Post
Spider_Jerusalem said:
And so enters ANOTHER person who we've never met, who is after our blood
You ever get the feeling that the DM really, genuinely, absolutely is trying to kill your characters - and enjoying it???
