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A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour - updated 19th December
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<blockquote data-quote="Spider_Jerusalem" data-source="post: 2215644" data-attributes="member: 5507"><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong>A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour</strong></span> </p><p><span style="font-size: 15px"><strong><span style="color: RoyalBlue">Chapter 2: Three's Company </span></strong></span> </p><p></p><p><strong><span style="color: RoyalBlue">"To important. Take it to... to Tilverton"</span></strong></p><p></p><p>Thalin turned and immediately backed away from the charging humanoids. To his surprise, Milo had already bolted away and was a good twenty paces ahead of him, making a bee-line for the cargo train.</p><p></p><p>“Kill them my minions, nothing is to escape us!” shrieked a distinctly human voice from within the woods. Thalin waited for an evil laugh, but it never came. Turning back to gauge the threat of the pursuing goblins, Thalin caught a glimpse of a sleek figure clad in black, levelling a bone-white crossbow at him.</p><p></p><p>Further along the cargo-train, another volley of arrows thudded into the carriage of rats. This deadly rainfall was followed by a shuddering crash as a bronze tipped javelin the size of a ballista bolt plunged into the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Hold still my children,” the man winced in pain and unsteadily pushed himself to his feet, “there is still much to be done... our time is not now” </p><p>The rats seemed to rally at these words and swarmed around his feet, helping him gain his balance.</p><p></p><p>A blast of light filled the musty carriage as the door was violently thrown open. A skull capped head of a goblin thrust into the carriage. Wicked yellow eyes greedily drunk in the scene. </p><p></p><p>The rat-mage whirled around and shrieked something in draconic. The rats, as one, leapt forwards and engulfed the goblin in a writhing mass of brown fur. The goblin toppled backwards into the snow, squealing wildly and desperately ripping at the horde of rats that swarmed over him. </p><p></p><p>The rat-mage gripped the long bundle of rags and took a step towards the door, surveying the scene before him. The wagon train had ground to a halt and a tide of goblins rolled towards the carriages, perhaps two hundred in all. The goblin now torn to shreds by his rats must have been a scout. Amid the sea of snarling faces lumbered a number of larger humanoids, two or three bulky orcs drove the goblins forward. </p><p></p><p>Larger shadows stalked through the trees, huge javelins in their monstrous hands. The chances of a successful defence were meagre at least. Possibilities sprinted through the mind of the rat-mage before quickly settling on a chance for escape. With a sweep of his hand, the rats left the body of the goblin and crouching on the edge of the carriage door, leapt to the frosted ground below.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Milo barreled through the legs of an orc with a certain air of confidence. Crouching to a stop, Milo registered the tide of the goblins charging towards the wagons. A few light-footed goblin scouts had managed to get closer and were already opening up the carriage doors. The halfling saw women and children dragged into the snow; he turned away before the rest. </p><p></p><p>A handful of Ulutiuns had rallied into a skirmish unit and screaming in unison, sprinted towards the oncoming lines of the goblins and orcs. Looking on in astonishment, Milo was oblivious to the orc that had lumbered up behind him and swung down hard with his huge rusted axe.</p><p></p><p>Thalin clutched his side where a black-feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt stuck awkwardly through his bearskin shirt. The mage burst from the wood to view the devastation before him. Seeing Milo about to be attacked, Thalin instinctively began to chant arcane words, his hands tracing lines through the air despite the pain in his side. </p><p></p><p>A nimbus of light sparkled over the mages body leaving a thin layer of frost over his clothing and skin. As this happened, the wolfskin cloak billowed around him and an icy shard hurtled from the shadows of the cloak, tearing through the air and into the back of the orc stood over Milo. </p><p></p><p>A shattering crack issued from the orc as his back crystallised into ice and shattered onto the ground, with a gurgling scream, his heavy body collapsed onto the top of the distracted halfling. Stepping forwards, Thalin heaved the body away from Milo and grabbed his hand, helping the halfling to his feet. Milo chimed his thanks but his words died in his throat as a huge shadow fell over them.</p><p></p><p>The roar of the ogre dropped Milo to his knees in fear, its immense form holding a giant javelin in each callused hand. The ogre scythed the javelins down but reeled back as a pulse of cold air filled his vision. With a confused yelp, the brute raised a mighty hand to rub the icy cloud away from his eyes. Using the moment’s respite from his spell, Thalin dragged Milo to his feet and sprinted towards the carriages.</p><p></p><p>The Ulutiuns hammered into the flimsy line of the goblins. A challenge bellowed forth from an orc who hefted a mighty morning star over his head, pointing at the lead Ulutiun. Accepting the challenge, the Ulutiun turned away from his goblin opponents to face the orc but was suddenly swarmed by goblins and dragged violently to the ground. The orc laughed at the stupidity of the iceman and waded into the Ulutiuns, a murderous grin of pleasure ruptured across his face as his weapon met flesh.</p><p></p><p>Thalin and Milo reached the first carriage as the goblin swarm pressed inwards on the Ulutiuns. Goblins leapt over one another to get a taste of manflesh, like a pack of wolves devouring a corpse. </p><p></p><p>Men, women and children lay dead on the ground, crude arrows protruding from the corpses. The snow was spattered with the blood of the wagon travellers.</p><p>“We have to find any survivors and flee, we can’t stay here,” shouted Thalin over the approaching screams of the goblins. </p><p></p><p>Thalin could feel the approval of his wizened familiar, who swooped over the battleground, registering the different pockets of fierce fighting strung out along the length of the wagons.</p><p></p><p>“We could take the horses, they’re tethered up at the front of the cargo wagon!” added Milo, who without even waiting for a reply dropped to the ground and scampered under the carriage to the other side of the wagon train. </p><p></p><p>Thalin turned back to the battle and surveyed the Ulutiuns fall before the goblin horde, his fathers words suddenly springing into his head; <em>Only death and war lies in the south</em>. </p><p></p><p>Pushing his regrets deeper into him, Thalin wielded <em>Shard</em> in the Ulutiun style and with a full arching sweep, decapitated a goblin that had crept round and tried to stab him in the back.</p><p></p><p>Milo reached the horses in under a minute and quickly began to untether them. But he fell still and stepped into the shadows of the lead carriage as a wicked laugh emitted from the other side of the horses. A goblin stepped into his view, but didn’t see the hidden halfling. The goblin laughed again and waving his shortsword like a fork, made determined steps towards one of the wagon horses. Milo held his breath and quietly cocked a bolt into his halfling-size crossbow. Wincing with the sound of the string stretching, he began to wind the bolt into a firing position.</p><p></p><p>Nearer to the goblin line, arrows zipped into the ground around Thalin. The sheer fact that he hadn’t been hit yet was surely a blessing of Tymora. As Thalin stepped sideways to avoid a fallen goblin body, a group of rats darted from out of the carriage shadows and blocked his path. Thalin had no time for this and leapt over the line of vermin, only to confront a man dressed in tattered brown rags and holding a long bundle of rags. Seeing Thalin, a hopeful stare echoed across his pock-marked face.</p><p></p><p>The hum of the javelin through the air preceded the wet thud as it drove through the rat-mage's stomach, pinning him to the carriage door. His body jerked to a stop a few inches from the ground and he let out a rattled shriek of pain. Thalin watched in horror as almost all of the rats swarming under the rat-mage's feet keeled over and died, their small bodies snapped like twigs. </p><p></p><p>Thalin dashed forwards to help the rat-mage.</p><p>“It is too important… you must take it…” cried the rat-mage as a spasm racked his body, “you must travel… travel… it is too important to lose. Keep it safe… you must!” </p><p>“What? What do you mean… what is important?” shouted Thalin, wary of the advancing goblins behind him. A hail of black arrows peppered the side of the carriage, inches from the two figures.</p><p></p><p>With a shriek of pain, the rat-mage shuddered once then breathed his last words,</p><p>“Too important. Take it to… to Tilverton.”</p><p>With a final shudder, the rat-mage died. The bundle of rags dropped to the floor. Around Thalin's feet, the remaining rats squirmed and died, their life extinguished as their master fell finally into the hands of Kelemvor. </p><p></p><p>Thalin looked for a moment before being forced into action by another hail of arrows, one sliced through the trailing end of his cloak. With a deft movement, Thalin grasped the long bundle of rags and was surprised at the weight of the object inside; a metal staff or rod perhaps. Thalin did not have time to check as he began to sprint towards the horses.</p><p></p><p>Milo had made his move. He shakily emerged from the shadows as the goblin clutched at the bolt in his back before falling forwards into the snow. The horses whinnied and reared up, but Milo quickly put a soothing hand onto their sides.</p><p></p><p>“The horses, quickly!” shouted Thalin as he sprinted towards his newfound companion.</p><p>With a quick swipe of his short sword, Milo cut the shackles of the horses and nimbly leapt onto the back of a smaller mare, snaring the reins of a stallion for Thalin as the rest of the horses bolted away from the battle. </p><p></p><p>Thalin swung quickly onto the horse and dug his heels into its side. In unison, the two horses reared up as Milo and Thalin exchanged glances, then hammered down the plains and away from the marauding goblins. Little was said as the two travellers, thrown together through fate, cantered southwards towards the trading post of Darmshall.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Spider_Jerusalem, post: 2215644, member: 5507"] [SIZE=3][B]A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour[/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=4][B][COLOR=RoyalBlue]Chapter 2: Three's Company [/COLOR][/B][/SIZE] [B][COLOR=RoyalBlue]"To important. Take it to... to Tilverton"[/COLOR][/B] Thalin turned and immediately backed away from the charging humanoids. To his surprise, Milo had already bolted away and was a good twenty paces ahead of him, making a bee-line for the cargo train. “Kill them my minions, nothing is to escape us!” shrieked a distinctly human voice from within the woods. Thalin waited for an evil laugh, but it never came. Turning back to gauge the threat of the pursuing goblins, Thalin caught a glimpse of a sleek figure clad in black, levelling a bone-white crossbow at him. Further along the cargo-train, another volley of arrows thudded into the carriage of rats. This deadly rainfall was followed by a shuddering crash as a bronze tipped javelin the size of a ballista bolt plunged into the door. “Hold still my children,” the man winced in pain and unsteadily pushed himself to his feet, “there is still much to be done... our time is not now” The rats seemed to rally at these words and swarmed around his feet, helping him gain his balance. A blast of light filled the musty carriage as the door was violently thrown open. A skull capped head of a goblin thrust into the carriage. Wicked yellow eyes greedily drunk in the scene. The rat-mage whirled around and shrieked something in draconic. The rats, as one, leapt forwards and engulfed the goblin in a writhing mass of brown fur. The goblin toppled backwards into the snow, squealing wildly and desperately ripping at the horde of rats that swarmed over him. The rat-mage gripped the long bundle of rags and took a step towards the door, surveying the scene before him. The wagon train had ground to a halt and a tide of goblins rolled towards the carriages, perhaps two hundred in all. The goblin now torn to shreds by his rats must have been a scout. Amid the sea of snarling faces lumbered a number of larger humanoids, two or three bulky orcs drove the goblins forward. Larger shadows stalked through the trees, huge javelins in their monstrous hands. The chances of a successful defence were meagre at least. Possibilities sprinted through the mind of the rat-mage before quickly settling on a chance for escape. With a sweep of his hand, the rats left the body of the goblin and crouching on the edge of the carriage door, leapt to the frosted ground below. Meanwhile, Milo barreled through the legs of an orc with a certain air of confidence. Crouching to a stop, Milo registered the tide of the goblins charging towards the wagons. A few light-footed goblin scouts had managed to get closer and were already opening up the carriage doors. The halfling saw women and children dragged into the snow; he turned away before the rest. A handful of Ulutiuns had rallied into a skirmish unit and screaming in unison, sprinted towards the oncoming lines of the goblins and orcs. Looking on in astonishment, Milo was oblivious to the orc that had lumbered up behind him and swung down hard with his huge rusted axe. Thalin clutched his side where a black-feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt stuck awkwardly through his bearskin shirt. The mage burst from the wood to view the devastation before him. Seeing Milo about to be attacked, Thalin instinctively began to chant arcane words, his hands tracing lines through the air despite the pain in his side. A nimbus of light sparkled over the mages body leaving a thin layer of frost over his clothing and skin. As this happened, the wolfskin cloak billowed around him and an icy shard hurtled from the shadows of the cloak, tearing through the air and into the back of the orc stood over Milo. A shattering crack issued from the orc as his back crystallised into ice and shattered onto the ground, with a gurgling scream, his heavy body collapsed onto the top of the distracted halfling. Stepping forwards, Thalin heaved the body away from Milo and grabbed his hand, helping the halfling to his feet. Milo chimed his thanks but his words died in his throat as a huge shadow fell over them. The roar of the ogre dropped Milo to his knees in fear, its immense form holding a giant javelin in each callused hand. The ogre scythed the javelins down but reeled back as a pulse of cold air filled his vision. With a confused yelp, the brute raised a mighty hand to rub the icy cloud away from his eyes. Using the moment’s respite from his spell, Thalin dragged Milo to his feet and sprinted towards the carriages. The Ulutiuns hammered into the flimsy line of the goblins. A challenge bellowed forth from an orc who hefted a mighty morning star over his head, pointing at the lead Ulutiun. Accepting the challenge, the Ulutiun turned away from his goblin opponents to face the orc but was suddenly swarmed by goblins and dragged violently to the ground. The orc laughed at the stupidity of the iceman and waded into the Ulutiuns, a murderous grin of pleasure ruptured across his face as his weapon met flesh. Thalin and Milo reached the first carriage as the goblin swarm pressed inwards on the Ulutiuns. Goblins leapt over one another to get a taste of manflesh, like a pack of wolves devouring a corpse. Men, women and children lay dead on the ground, crude arrows protruding from the corpses. The snow was spattered with the blood of the wagon travellers. “We have to find any survivors and flee, we can’t stay here,” shouted Thalin over the approaching screams of the goblins. Thalin could feel the approval of his wizened familiar, who swooped over the battleground, registering the different pockets of fierce fighting strung out along the length of the wagons. “We could take the horses, they’re tethered up at the front of the cargo wagon!” added Milo, who without even waiting for a reply dropped to the ground and scampered under the carriage to the other side of the wagon train. Thalin turned back to the battle and surveyed the Ulutiuns fall before the goblin horde, his fathers words suddenly springing into his head; [I]Only death and war lies in the south[/I]. Pushing his regrets deeper into him, Thalin wielded [I]Shard[/I] in the Ulutiun style and with a full arching sweep, decapitated a goblin that had crept round and tried to stab him in the back. Milo reached the horses in under a minute and quickly began to untether them. But he fell still and stepped into the shadows of the lead carriage as a wicked laugh emitted from the other side of the horses. A goblin stepped into his view, but didn’t see the hidden halfling. The goblin laughed again and waving his shortsword like a fork, made determined steps towards one of the wagon horses. Milo held his breath and quietly cocked a bolt into his halfling-size crossbow. Wincing with the sound of the string stretching, he began to wind the bolt into a firing position. Nearer to the goblin line, arrows zipped into the ground around Thalin. The sheer fact that he hadn’t been hit yet was surely a blessing of Tymora. As Thalin stepped sideways to avoid a fallen goblin body, a group of rats darted from out of the carriage shadows and blocked his path. Thalin had no time for this and leapt over the line of vermin, only to confront a man dressed in tattered brown rags and holding a long bundle of rags. Seeing Thalin, a hopeful stare echoed across his pock-marked face. The hum of the javelin through the air preceded the wet thud as it drove through the rat-mage's stomach, pinning him to the carriage door. His body jerked to a stop a few inches from the ground and he let out a rattled shriek of pain. Thalin watched in horror as almost all of the rats swarming under the rat-mage's feet keeled over and died, their small bodies snapped like twigs. Thalin dashed forwards to help the rat-mage. “It is too important… you must take it…” cried the rat-mage as a spasm racked his body, “you must travel… travel… it is too important to lose. Keep it safe… you must!” “What? What do you mean… what is important?” shouted Thalin, wary of the advancing goblins behind him. A hail of black arrows peppered the side of the carriage, inches from the two figures. With a shriek of pain, the rat-mage shuddered once then breathed his last words, “Too important. Take it to… to Tilverton.” With a final shudder, the rat-mage died. The bundle of rags dropped to the floor. Around Thalin's feet, the remaining rats squirmed and died, their life extinguished as their master fell finally into the hands of Kelemvor. Thalin looked for a moment before being forced into action by another hail of arrows, one sliced through the trailing end of his cloak. With a deft movement, Thalin grasped the long bundle of rags and was surprised at the weight of the object inside; a metal staff or rod perhaps. Thalin did not have time to check as he began to sprint towards the horses. Milo had made his move. He shakily emerged from the shadows as the goblin clutched at the bolt in his back before falling forwards into the snow. The horses whinnied and reared up, but Milo quickly put a soothing hand onto their sides. “The horses, quickly!” shouted Thalin as he sprinted towards his newfound companion. With a quick swipe of his short sword, Milo cut the shackles of the horses and nimbly leapt onto the back of a smaller mare, snaring the reins of a stallion for Thalin as the rest of the horses bolted away from the battle. Thalin swung quickly onto the horse and dug his heels into its side. In unison, the two horses reared up as Milo and Thalin exchanged glances, then hammered down the plains and away from the marauding goblins. Little was said as the two travellers, thrown together through fate, cantered southwards towards the trading post of Darmshall. [/QUOTE]
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