A Demon Slayer's Tale
Arknath
First Post
A Gathering of Allies (Part 2)
When we found the road again, Jonas surmised that we were still a half hour ahead of our intended targets. I sat with him for a short while and we discussed what these knights might be like.
“If all accounts hold true,” the bard stated, “the knights of Hammerfell were amongst the best fighters when the island was infested.”
I nodded in agreement. “I, too, have heard of the valor of Hammerfellan knights, but have never heard of Sir Oden since I have come to Xad’Nasser.”
Just then, a loud noise of jostling steel met our ears. Jonas had a confused look upon his face, but I know the sound of steel barding on a mounted horse when I hear it. Shortly thereafter, a column of magnificently arrayed knights, mounted on large warhorses crested the hill. The sun sparkled on their gleaming suits and I found myself eager to rush out and inspect the craftsmanship of such a splendid looking armor. However, to decrease the shock value of my wish to speak with these men, I elected to let Jonas do the talking while I merely waited for an introduction.
“It seems that you will know more about him soon enough,” the bard chuckled to himself. “I shall see if I can strike a parlay with them and find out whether they are friend or foe.”
I nodded my agreement (I’m agreeing quite a bit with this bard, am I losing my rough edge?) and watched him carefully pick his way out of the forest and onto the road to hail the knights.
The lead knight, a splendidly armored human, held up a raised fist and the entire company (as one, might I add!) came to a complete halt approximately 30 feet from the road-blocking bard. I saw that Jonas was speaking, but at this distance, even my talent for reading the lips of others failed in its efficiency. After thinking Jonas asked for a roast duck and a shield, I became frustrated and stopped trying to discern the conversation. One unmistakable motion that the bard made, however, was to point in my direction and raise his voice. I could only think that he was calling my name and that I was being asked to step from the forest.
I strode proudly from the tree line as a proud larcetan warrior should. I held the gaze of the lead knight on my approach, a sign of respect and understanding of equals in my lands, not this foolish human belief that to hold someone’s gaze is as challenging them. When I stood in front of the company, and beside Jonas, I hailed the knight by name and bowed at the waist. Again, only a warrior who has met his equal, or so he believes, makes such a gesture in my country. Of course, I was astounded at the welcome that I received when my introductions and formalities where complete.
As one, Sir Oden, his companion, and the first three ranks of knights behind them, dismounted and kneeled before me in one swift movement. The thunder of steel and the pretentiousness of it all would make any larcetan worth the forge he fires proud to have seen it.
“Greetings, Sir Oden,” I began, as diplomatically and unthreatening as I possibly could make it, “I trust your journey from Hammerfell gave you no trouble?”
Sir Oden looked at me and gave a quick nod of his head to the 48 men mounted and armored behind him, “It will be a cold day in Hell before a creature is born that is of low wits enough to attack a virtual army of paladins.” His chuckle was genuine and I saw no mockery in his tone.
“And you, Sir Bocata Si Nik Nik,” he said with a salute, “I trust you are enjoying your new found freedom?”
“Quite well, actually.” I said with a nod, “But I am not a knight yet, Sir Oden. I have not earned the title nor been given it by any who have such right and privilege.”
Oden gave me a slight wink and crooked a smile, “Ah, good Bocata, but true knights are best exampled by their valor on the field of battle and the courage in their hearts, do you not agree?”
I shrugged noncomittingly, “If that were so, Sir Oden,” I said, measuring my response, “Then there are far more men and larcetan that deserve knighthood than I.” I gave a small laugh, “And they do not even seek it.”
Oden nodded his consent. “Where is your destination?” he asked bluntly, “For surely you did not come this far west to volley pretty words and formalities with the likes of me and my men.”
I was beginning to like this man’s attitude with every word he spoke.
“We are destined for Paladium,” I replied, “We seek to rebuild it.”
Oden’s eyes went wide, “We are also heading to the lost City of Paladins,” he said with a gesture to his men. “We were to stop in Ayr and receive church funded transportation via teleport.”
“We were to take the long way around. To see who and what we could find for our cause along the way.” I said.
Oden looked at me with a great curiousness, “You would bring craftsmen and artisans to a city that is rife with undead?” He asked with an incredulous look upon his face.
“We were not yet sure whether the city had fallen to the likes of them,” I said with another shrug, “it seemed only a trivial thing at best.”
“By all accounts, there are nightwalkers that storm the city, yet for some strange reason it still holds against their advances.” Sir Oden proclaimed with some confidence.
“How do you know this,” Jonas piped up. I’d almost forgotten that the bard was there.
“We have divined the ruins and see that there are a mass of undead around the city, but they do not go into certain parts of it. This is why we mustered 50 of our best men, myself included, to weed out the false citizens of Paladium and reclaim the city.”
I thought on this for a moment. Surely it was a sending from Oti Ni Nuad himself that led Sir Oden to me before I went charging headlong into battle one more time. This time, I may not have escaped with my life.
“What exactly are ‘nightwalkers’?” I asked the Lord Paladin. “I’ve never encountered their type before.”
“They are one of the worst forms of undead known,” he said with a grim face, “they are bigger than even you, Bocata, and have great powers that can drain your life away with a touch.”
This is a most definite sign from my Lord the Hunter. He is trying to teach me patience…and that is a hard lesson for me to learn.
“Will you come with us to our camp,” I asked of the lord paladin. “We are preparing food and will more than likely have plenty to go round.”
“Nay,” said Oden, “my men wish to sleep on a soft bed one more night before we ride into battle on the morrow. I do not blame them, for they all may not return to Hammerfell.”
“However,” he added, “I would join you and talk about other things. If we are to be companions in battle, Bocata, I would learn if the legends are true and would discuss other…,” he looked casually to either side of us, moving only his eyes, “more private matters.”
I nodded in whole-hearted agreement. “I will see you in the camp,” I said as I bowed low again, “Just enter the forest and I will have an agent come to meet you.”
Sir Oden clenched his fist and held it against his heart in salute. “To you a safe journey,” he said with a smile and a turn of his horse, “and also to your luck at finding the choicest of meals for our first dinner together.” He laughed and commanded his men, again, turning in unison on their mounts, and ordered them to march directly west, to the city of Ayr.
It was some time later that eve when Sir Oden and his mount returned to our presence. Jonas and I were busy detailing plans on how to rebuild the city and what forms of commerce and trade we might be able to take up to earn a great amount of gold.
Enough gold to fund a war.
When Sir Oden strode into camp, I reached out (and down) to clamp onto his arm in greetings. Jonas stood and did likewise. I invited the lord paladin to sit and sup with us.
“What is your real reason for traveling out of your homeland,” I asked, pushing all pretenses aside. “Surely your kingdom would aide in a cause if it would fill their coffers and increase their subjects.”
Sir Oden nodded. “Aye, it is a personal mission that I take, and no other.” He scooped some of the excellent stew that Rhen and Archivell had made for the company into a wooden bowl as he spoke. “I would see the City of Paladins restored to its former glory.”
Again, he glanced around and spoke, “It would suit me nicely to start my very own kingdom in the south. One that prospered and used law to rule.”
I nodded my agreement, taking measure of this human who seemed to view the world in an equal way to my own.
“I, unlike yourself, do not specialize in running kingdoms,” I said with a slight grin to my lizard-like face, “I specialize in breaking them.”
Sir Oden, always the one for secrecy, gave a slight nod and a wink, “It is not wise to talk of such things so close to Ayr.” He warned. “It is not known for certain where Zurich is.”
I felt the fool for having spoken so openly about the downfall of the current kingdom, and so close to the capital city! I was silent for a bit as I considered his words.
“You are correct, lord paladin,” I said, “we should speak of our kingdom and how we intend to make it just and profitable.”
For many more hours, we sat in discussion of how our finances would be arranged. It turned out, and not too surprisingly, that Jonas was somewhat wise in the ways of finance and money-handling. I began to wonder if I wasn’t trusting this bard with this information too much, and thus I tried to appear unimpressed with his claims. However, I truly was very impressed.
When it was time to put the campfire out, I surveyed those in the circle of the fire’s light. I did not see Laurel.
“Rhen,” I called softly, “Rhen, have you seen Laurel?”
The ogre that was Rhen turned and nodded in my direction. “She was but a few hundred steps in the easterly direction about half an hour ago.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Keep the watch, can you?” I was feeling tired from my four-day trek and needed some rest soon.
He nodded and went back to watching the forest, not saying a word. I nodded off to sleep and dreamt of slaying undead.
When we awoke, Laurel was in the encampment packed and ready to go. She seemed fully rested if not a little sad.
I stole up to her when the rest of us began packing. “How did it go?” I asked softly, knowing that it still pained her to have to do what she did.
She shrugged, “As well as can be expected, I suppose. We will see what the new day brings.”
The six of us set out to the city of Ayr, where Oden’s men were waiting for us to arrive so that we could all teleport to Paladium. As we entered the city, I wondered if I should enter it in the form of another creature, so that my whereabouts wouldn’t be known. It was absurd of me to think, however, because wizardly and clerical magic can discern the location of just about anything. So, I did not bother to request a form change.
Oden paid for all transports (including those that were with Laurel and I) and we all reached the outskirts of Paladium ready for battle. However, the land was much worse than we ever could have dreamed. The tales of the southland were not descriptive enough.
The ground was as black as ash left from a great fire and not a tree lived within eyesight. The air had a charred, burnt smell to it and one could see particles of dust floating all about in the air. However, nothing compared to the awesome sight of the undead horde that held the city of Paladium under siege.
There must have been several hundreds of them, some powerful, some weak. The Fury was with us, that day, for none of them seemed to be interested in the arrival of 55 armed and battle-ready adventurers but several hundred steps to their south.
I turned to Oden and simply asked, “Now what?”
Oden donned his helmet, closed his visor, and lowered his lance. “We charge!”
Incedentally, I got several good suggestions for the Rager prestige class and how to rework it so that it was more balanced and playable. I have updated that and the stat block for Bocata in the Rogue's Gallery if you care to look. Enjoy the update!
When we found the road again, Jonas surmised that we were still a half hour ahead of our intended targets. I sat with him for a short while and we discussed what these knights might be like.
“If all accounts hold true,” the bard stated, “the knights of Hammerfell were amongst the best fighters when the island was infested.”
I nodded in agreement. “I, too, have heard of the valor of Hammerfellan knights, but have never heard of Sir Oden since I have come to Xad’Nasser.”
Just then, a loud noise of jostling steel met our ears. Jonas had a confused look upon his face, but I know the sound of steel barding on a mounted horse when I hear it. Shortly thereafter, a column of magnificently arrayed knights, mounted on large warhorses crested the hill. The sun sparkled on their gleaming suits and I found myself eager to rush out and inspect the craftsmanship of such a splendid looking armor. However, to decrease the shock value of my wish to speak with these men, I elected to let Jonas do the talking while I merely waited for an introduction.
“It seems that you will know more about him soon enough,” the bard chuckled to himself. “I shall see if I can strike a parlay with them and find out whether they are friend or foe.”
I nodded my agreement (I’m agreeing quite a bit with this bard, am I losing my rough edge?) and watched him carefully pick his way out of the forest and onto the road to hail the knights.
The lead knight, a splendidly armored human, held up a raised fist and the entire company (as one, might I add!) came to a complete halt approximately 30 feet from the road-blocking bard. I saw that Jonas was speaking, but at this distance, even my talent for reading the lips of others failed in its efficiency. After thinking Jonas asked for a roast duck and a shield, I became frustrated and stopped trying to discern the conversation. One unmistakable motion that the bard made, however, was to point in my direction and raise his voice. I could only think that he was calling my name and that I was being asked to step from the forest.
I strode proudly from the tree line as a proud larcetan warrior should. I held the gaze of the lead knight on my approach, a sign of respect and understanding of equals in my lands, not this foolish human belief that to hold someone’s gaze is as challenging them. When I stood in front of the company, and beside Jonas, I hailed the knight by name and bowed at the waist. Again, only a warrior who has met his equal, or so he believes, makes such a gesture in my country. Of course, I was astounded at the welcome that I received when my introductions and formalities where complete.
As one, Sir Oden, his companion, and the first three ranks of knights behind them, dismounted and kneeled before me in one swift movement. The thunder of steel and the pretentiousness of it all would make any larcetan worth the forge he fires proud to have seen it.
“Greetings, Sir Oden,” I began, as diplomatically and unthreatening as I possibly could make it, “I trust your journey from Hammerfell gave you no trouble?”
Sir Oden looked at me and gave a quick nod of his head to the 48 men mounted and armored behind him, “It will be a cold day in Hell before a creature is born that is of low wits enough to attack a virtual army of paladins.” His chuckle was genuine and I saw no mockery in his tone.
“And you, Sir Bocata Si Nik Nik,” he said with a salute, “I trust you are enjoying your new found freedom?”
“Quite well, actually.” I said with a nod, “But I am not a knight yet, Sir Oden. I have not earned the title nor been given it by any who have such right and privilege.”
Oden gave me a slight wink and crooked a smile, “Ah, good Bocata, but true knights are best exampled by their valor on the field of battle and the courage in their hearts, do you not agree?”
I shrugged noncomittingly, “If that were so, Sir Oden,” I said, measuring my response, “Then there are far more men and larcetan that deserve knighthood than I.” I gave a small laugh, “And they do not even seek it.”
Oden nodded his consent. “Where is your destination?” he asked bluntly, “For surely you did not come this far west to volley pretty words and formalities with the likes of me and my men.”
I was beginning to like this man’s attitude with every word he spoke.
“We are destined for Paladium,” I replied, “We seek to rebuild it.”
Oden’s eyes went wide, “We are also heading to the lost City of Paladins,” he said with a gesture to his men. “We were to stop in Ayr and receive church funded transportation via teleport.”
“We were to take the long way around. To see who and what we could find for our cause along the way.” I said.
Oden looked at me with a great curiousness, “You would bring craftsmen and artisans to a city that is rife with undead?” He asked with an incredulous look upon his face.
“We were not yet sure whether the city had fallen to the likes of them,” I said with another shrug, “it seemed only a trivial thing at best.”
“By all accounts, there are nightwalkers that storm the city, yet for some strange reason it still holds against their advances.” Sir Oden proclaimed with some confidence.
“How do you know this,” Jonas piped up. I’d almost forgotten that the bard was there.
“We have divined the ruins and see that there are a mass of undead around the city, but they do not go into certain parts of it. This is why we mustered 50 of our best men, myself included, to weed out the false citizens of Paladium and reclaim the city.”
I thought on this for a moment. Surely it was a sending from Oti Ni Nuad himself that led Sir Oden to me before I went charging headlong into battle one more time. This time, I may not have escaped with my life.
“What exactly are ‘nightwalkers’?” I asked the Lord Paladin. “I’ve never encountered their type before.”
“They are one of the worst forms of undead known,” he said with a grim face, “they are bigger than even you, Bocata, and have great powers that can drain your life away with a touch.”
This is a most definite sign from my Lord the Hunter. He is trying to teach me patience…and that is a hard lesson for me to learn.
“Will you come with us to our camp,” I asked of the lord paladin. “We are preparing food and will more than likely have plenty to go round.”
“Nay,” said Oden, “my men wish to sleep on a soft bed one more night before we ride into battle on the morrow. I do not blame them, for they all may not return to Hammerfell.”
“However,” he added, “I would join you and talk about other things. If we are to be companions in battle, Bocata, I would learn if the legends are true and would discuss other…,” he looked casually to either side of us, moving only his eyes, “more private matters.”
I nodded in whole-hearted agreement. “I will see you in the camp,” I said as I bowed low again, “Just enter the forest and I will have an agent come to meet you.”
Sir Oden clenched his fist and held it against his heart in salute. “To you a safe journey,” he said with a smile and a turn of his horse, “and also to your luck at finding the choicest of meals for our first dinner together.” He laughed and commanded his men, again, turning in unison on their mounts, and ordered them to march directly west, to the city of Ayr.
It was some time later that eve when Sir Oden and his mount returned to our presence. Jonas and I were busy detailing plans on how to rebuild the city and what forms of commerce and trade we might be able to take up to earn a great amount of gold.
Enough gold to fund a war.
When Sir Oden strode into camp, I reached out (and down) to clamp onto his arm in greetings. Jonas stood and did likewise. I invited the lord paladin to sit and sup with us.
“What is your real reason for traveling out of your homeland,” I asked, pushing all pretenses aside. “Surely your kingdom would aide in a cause if it would fill their coffers and increase their subjects.”
Sir Oden nodded. “Aye, it is a personal mission that I take, and no other.” He scooped some of the excellent stew that Rhen and Archivell had made for the company into a wooden bowl as he spoke. “I would see the City of Paladins restored to its former glory.”
Again, he glanced around and spoke, “It would suit me nicely to start my very own kingdom in the south. One that prospered and used law to rule.”
I nodded my agreement, taking measure of this human who seemed to view the world in an equal way to my own.
“I, unlike yourself, do not specialize in running kingdoms,” I said with a slight grin to my lizard-like face, “I specialize in breaking them.”
Sir Oden, always the one for secrecy, gave a slight nod and a wink, “It is not wise to talk of such things so close to Ayr.” He warned. “It is not known for certain where Zurich is.”
I felt the fool for having spoken so openly about the downfall of the current kingdom, and so close to the capital city! I was silent for a bit as I considered his words.
“You are correct, lord paladin,” I said, “we should speak of our kingdom and how we intend to make it just and profitable.”
For many more hours, we sat in discussion of how our finances would be arranged. It turned out, and not too surprisingly, that Jonas was somewhat wise in the ways of finance and money-handling. I began to wonder if I wasn’t trusting this bard with this information too much, and thus I tried to appear unimpressed with his claims. However, I truly was very impressed.
When it was time to put the campfire out, I surveyed those in the circle of the fire’s light. I did not see Laurel.
“Rhen,” I called softly, “Rhen, have you seen Laurel?”
The ogre that was Rhen turned and nodded in my direction. “She was but a few hundred steps in the easterly direction about half an hour ago.”
I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Keep the watch, can you?” I was feeling tired from my four-day trek and needed some rest soon.
He nodded and went back to watching the forest, not saying a word. I nodded off to sleep and dreamt of slaying undead.
When we awoke, Laurel was in the encampment packed and ready to go. She seemed fully rested if not a little sad.
I stole up to her when the rest of us began packing. “How did it go?” I asked softly, knowing that it still pained her to have to do what she did.
She shrugged, “As well as can be expected, I suppose. We will see what the new day brings.”
The six of us set out to the city of Ayr, where Oden’s men were waiting for us to arrive so that we could all teleport to Paladium. As we entered the city, I wondered if I should enter it in the form of another creature, so that my whereabouts wouldn’t be known. It was absurd of me to think, however, because wizardly and clerical magic can discern the location of just about anything. So, I did not bother to request a form change.
Oden paid for all transports (including those that were with Laurel and I) and we all reached the outskirts of Paladium ready for battle. However, the land was much worse than we ever could have dreamed. The tales of the southland were not descriptive enough.
The ground was as black as ash left from a great fire and not a tree lived within eyesight. The air had a charred, burnt smell to it and one could see particles of dust floating all about in the air. However, nothing compared to the awesome sight of the undead horde that held the city of Paladium under siege.
There must have been several hundreds of them, some powerful, some weak. The Fury was with us, that day, for none of them seemed to be interested in the arrival of 55 armed and battle-ready adventurers but several hundred steps to their south.
I turned to Oden and simply asked, “Now what?”
Oden donned his helmet, closed his visor, and lowered his lance. “We charge!”
Incedentally, I got several good suggestions for the Rager prestige class and how to rework it so that it was more balanced and playable. I have updated that and the stat block for Bocata in the Rogue's Gallery if you care to look. Enjoy the update!
Arknath
First Post
Paladium: A City Under Siege
“Wait!” I yelled as loud as I could after Oden and his men charged towards the town. The captain apparently could not hear me over the din of 50 horses charging headlong into battle.
The fact that he was also high in the air on his winged mount, a griffon, was also a hindrance in his hearing my words.
I turned to Laurel, Rhen, Jonas and Archivell and said frantically, “This is not the way to do this, we must stop them!”
Rhen turned a silent eye towards the charging knights and nodded, “I’ll stop them.” Bones cracked and skin changed and soon a golden-skinned, winged creature stood tall before me.
‘A planatar?’ I mused to myself, ‘I hope he has a good idea.’
The shapeshifter flew off after the charging miasma of horse and man. Of course, that left the four of us standing there with little to do but watch.
“We need to get to that town,” I said, “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Laurel thought for a moment and twiddled her fingers and spoke some words of power. Soon, the four of us were lifting off the ground and flying towards the town, easily outdistancing the shifter and the charging paladins.
As we approached the town through the air, I nearly choked at the vision I saw. The temple was in ruins, the buildings were either badly damaged or completely destroyed. Worst of all, what appeared to be a five-story statue of a man was missing half of the statue from the waist up. This could only be the fabled statue of Optimen* that arose from the temple’s judicatory.
Throughout the town we saw hordes of skeletons, zombies and worse things crawling all over the city wreaking havoc on just about everything they encountered. There were also small pebbles that were being hurled at us from unseen assailants as we neared the town’s innermost buildings. It seemed as though the very air around us did not want us around. That was when we saw a man waving at us from the tower of the temple in a frantic manner.
I pointed this man out to my companions and we aimed our flight towards him. As soon as we were close enough, I invoked my Fury-given power to discern this man’s heart, which proved to be good natured. He was not undead, that much was for certain, and he appeared haggard and dirty as though he had seen many months with not so much as a tub of water nor something sharp to shave his face with. However, I will never forget the look in the man’s eyes as I touched down with my companions in front of him. It is a look that, if one lives long enough to see it, it brings purpose to one’s life and renewed faith in good-hearted folk.
It was the look of hope regained when all else was lost.
“Greetings,” I spoke to the man in a formal manner, “I am Bocata Si Nik Nik. We are come to aid you in the reclaiming and rebuilding of Paladium. What is your name, man?”
The weak man seemed as though he would pass out from sheer joy and thankfulness, “I am Anselm, good Bocata,” he wheezed, “Welcome to Paladium.”
It was then that the man passed out. Whether from sheer exhaustion or from the hope of independence regained, I have yet to figure out which.
“Let’s get him down from here,” Jonas said quickly, scooping up the young priest in his arms and heading for the stairs, “Tis not a fit night out for man nor beast.”
I furrowed my brow at that last comment, unsure of it’s intended target. This bard’s humor was going to be something to get used to.
It was some time before the young priest came to and was able to form intelligible words on his own. Jonas worked with him to discover that he and his master were the lone survivors of the fiendish attack on Paladium. When asked where his master was, Sir Anselm (as I discovered later was his official title) told us that his master was resting.
“Why do the undead not attack you?” Laurel asked when Anselm had had a bit of trail rations and some cool water at Jonas’ behest. “They seem not to be able to reach certain parts of the city.”
Anselm chewed his food thoughtfully before answering, “It was one of the final defenses that my master had put in place when the city was besieged. He had laid down forbiddances around the temple and the fane before the fiends were able to get to the middle of the city.”
“Then your master must be a very powerful priest indeed,” Jonas chimed in, nodding the entire time. “May we speak with your master?”
Anselm swallowed hard. “He is…how do I put this…quite mad.”
The matter-of-fact tone to Anselm’s voice was a slap in the face to the four of us. A powerful priest protected a city of great importance, yet he was stark-raving mad?
“Surely this is no time for jest,” I barked, quite irritated with whatever joke this young ingrate was trying to pull off. “This is serious business and we are in need of a powerful priest, not some mad blathering imbecile.”
Anselm looked at me with no expression in his eyes, “I do not jest, larcetan. I speak of truth which I dearly wish was not such.”
“Then how can he cast these powerful magics?” Laurel inquired, feeling a little more than interested at the apparent phenomenon right before her eyes. “Surely the preciseness of spellcasting is something that escapes mad wizards and mad priests. By the Nine Hells I’ve known wizards who could not even cast a fishing rod, much less the simplest of cantrips.” She chuckled at her own joke, “And by all accounts they were quite sane.”
Anselm turned and smiled at the young wizardess, “I know not how he works his magic. That is between himself and the Goddess of Spells**.”
“Venia.” All four of us chimed in at once. It explained everything.
Venia is a powerful goddess of magic and, by all accounts, a good-hearted deity. However, her lack of care for how magic is used is a much debated issue in the world of humans. Magic for good, magic for evil, magic for the weak or powerful. It matters not to the larcetan nor to the caanids, who do not rely on magic granted by the goddess. However, in a room full of finger-twirlers, I was hardly going to be the dissenting voice in any argument that came with the naming of the deity.
“This is not getting us anywhere right now,” I said, keeping my watch on the outside perimeter of the building. “We have brought with us a great force of 50 men-at-arms and all followers of Equitas. However, they remain outside the walls of the city.”
Anselm crinkled his face in confusion, “There are more of you?”
We all nodded and Jonas added in calmed tones, “But there is a great horde at your door that they cannot pass through. Our wizard friend did not prepare her spells to bring all of them over this day.”
Laurel shrugged, “I didn’t think I was to play transport to 50 mounted knights this day.”
Anselm nodded, “Do not worry, we will get your friends into the city. Let us go wake my master up and we will see what he can do.”
Laurel, Archivell, and Jonas rose to leave with Anselm. I spoke as they were leaving the room, “Laurel, how long do we have left on our fly enspellment?”
Laurel poked her head outside and glanced at the sun, “About a score or minutes or less, why?”
I nodded, “While you plan to bring the knights over, I shall wait for you all on the outside with them. Should things turn against them, I wish for Oti Ni Nuad to release the spirits from their tortured existence here on Xad’Nasser.”
As I saw them all leave and walk toward the fane, I willed myself up into the air and over the horde of death that was attempting to desecrate the most holiest of cities on the face of the island. A lump filled my throat at the thought of losing this island to yet another wave of fiends and creatures of death. Someone was going to pay.
Oti Ni Nuad was going to deliver a message of vengeance to whomever was responsible for this foulness. I was a willing messenger.
When I reached the outskirts of town where the host of paladins awaited outside the city, I saw a surprising sight. All 50 were in perfect formation and had stopped their charge approximately 500 feet from the undead host.
I flew up to Oden, mounted on his griffon and addressed him. “Sir Oden,” I bowed and preceded to take in the spectacle of his men, “You have come to your senses I see.”
Oden looked at me with a confused look upon his face. “Senses? We are just acting on what was nothing less than a divine order not to storm this town.”
I opened my mouth to argue his statement, but remembered the shifter and decided to keep my mouth shut instead.
“You were visited by divine presence and no one else saw?” I was trying to sound surprised and a little disbelieving at the same time. Needless to say, acting is not one of my strong points.
“Aye,” Oden said, his grim expression telling me that the man was not jesting in the least, “Flew from the sky and intercepted my mount and I and commanded us to desist.”
I had more things to ask this man about his divine encounter, but none which would have proven productive. I just changed the subject.
“The others are inside trying to discover the easiest way to bring you and your men inside.” I said pointing to the town, “We found survivors.”
Oden’s face lit up at the proclamation, “Survivors?! That’s incredible! How many?”
“Two.”
His face lost some of it’s luminescence, “Just two? Who are they?”
“A mad priest and his serving boy,” I proclaimed, “’Twas waiting at the tower for us when we flew over the horde.”
All happiness at finding survivors left his face at that moment. He groaned audibly.
“I suppose that is blessing enough,” he sighed, “but Optimen must be quite enamored for them to have survived this long out in this wasteland.”
I nodded my agreement, “I suggest you and your men relax for a while, there is no telling how long it will take. I have elected to stay out here with you and your men, to learn what I can of your training and to help you plot our plans to rebuild this great city.”
Oden commanded his men to dismount and then dismounted himself. He went about preparing a small camp, known to those of us who adventure quite often as a “quickfire”, and discussed plans with me for many hours.
Rhen appeared an hour or so later and suggested a plan that he had devised for transporting the men to the town.
“You’re going to shift into a what?” Oden and I asked with questioning looks on our faces. “What in the Black Abyss is that?”
“It’s called a ‘skrimlipod’ and it is large enough to hold half of your men and their mounts.”
“And what about the other half?” Oden asked skeptically, “what would you do with them?”
Rhen looked to Oden indignantly, “I would return for them as quick as may be.” He said with minor conviction.
“How long will that take?” I asked keeping an eye on the horde of undead.
“Each trip will take about 6 hours.” The tone of his voice is what set Oden off more than the words he spoke.
“6 HOURS??” the lord paladin bellowed, “they could all be slaughtered in that amount of time.”
Rhen shrugged helplessly, “I did not say it was without it’s risks.” He pointed to the sun, “You have but a few hours of daylight left, Oden, and you know what undead will appear after sundown.”
Oden did quite up at that. Shadows, specters, and worse things would come out of the dark places of the night and attack the men. Only to make them undead in return and ruin their places in Equitas’ halls of justice.
“Oden, I will stay with one half while you will travel with the other.” I offered this solution as a way to compromise and save the lives of his men. “It will give them hope and protection whilst the transfer is complete.”
Oden thought on this long and hard. “It is a good plan and one that I am willing to chance.” He said carefully, “But on one condition.”
Rhen looked at the paladin, expressionless.
“I ride with them.”
“We will be able to carry less,” the druid said, “wouldn’t you rather ride with the second half?”
“I ride with them. Period.” It seemed Oden was adamant about his decision.
The druid shrugged. “So be it.”
The shifter transformed and, after much toil and reverse engineering, we were able to seat 24 of Oden’s mounted knights atop the skrimlipod’s back. It was a very slow ascension but after an hour or so, the large floating beast was in the air.
Just before dusk, we noticed movement in the fields about the town’s perimeter. It seemed as though the horde was on the move, and whatever had been irresistibly drawing them towards the town was now not strong enough.
“They are leaving,” I said as I watched them going into the east. Nightwalkers and many other nasty creatures were following. It seemed as though they were leaving the town for no reason.
“I see,” said Sir Anton, Oden’s second in command.
“Let us hope that this is a sign of good things to come.” I mused as I tried to view the large moving beast on the horizon. It seemed as though it was just over the city’s main square.
Suddenly, we started hearing other-worldly voices and taunts thrown at us from the black of night. The alarm was sounded and we all rose to our feet, clamoring into armor and drawing weapons as we could. The Hand and Shield were in my hands as quick as any warrior could have drawn them.
The hellish screams of death and dying were all about us and the men were becoming afraid***.
“What is that noise, Sir Bocata?” Anton yelled over the deadly din, “I don’t see anyone here who could be causing it.”
“They are spirits, young warrior,” I replied, searching frantically for anything to materialize and try to attack one of the men. “They are the remains of the dead who were lost and massacred here but a few months ago. Their spirits are strong.”
“What are we to do against an enemy we cannot see?” Anton said, drawing his hammer from a loop at his belt.
“The only thing we can do against such creatures,” I said, sheathing the Shield.
“Pray and run!” Oh, how it pained me to say it.
I gave the order and, against his better judgment, and his orders, Anton repeated my order and I led the charge on foot, while the other men surrounded me. We were going to get into the city of Paladium this night, without the shifter’s aid.
*Our world has a council of "over-gods" that preside over the "regular 'rank and file'" deities of our world. Optimen has one portfolio, Good, and is Co-superior to all deities of the Good alignment. As you travel through our world, you'll learn the names of the other four over-gods.
**Venia is our goddess of magic. She is a neutral good deity that is a bit fickle, but very powerful in the ways in which she speaks with her followers. Almost all of them have some unique gift with magic.
***Oden's men, save for Sir Anton, are first level human paladins. Needless to say they don't get "Divine Courage".
As soon as I figure out how to post a picture on the boards, I'll post one of the big lizard himself.
“Wait!” I yelled as loud as I could after Oden and his men charged towards the town. The captain apparently could not hear me over the din of 50 horses charging headlong into battle.
The fact that he was also high in the air on his winged mount, a griffon, was also a hindrance in his hearing my words.
I turned to Laurel, Rhen, Jonas and Archivell and said frantically, “This is not the way to do this, we must stop them!”
Rhen turned a silent eye towards the charging knights and nodded, “I’ll stop them.” Bones cracked and skin changed and soon a golden-skinned, winged creature stood tall before me.
‘A planatar?’ I mused to myself, ‘I hope he has a good idea.’
The shapeshifter flew off after the charging miasma of horse and man. Of course, that left the four of us standing there with little to do but watch.
“We need to get to that town,” I said, “Does anyone have any ideas?”
Laurel thought for a moment and twiddled her fingers and spoke some words of power. Soon, the four of us were lifting off the ground and flying towards the town, easily outdistancing the shifter and the charging paladins.
As we approached the town through the air, I nearly choked at the vision I saw. The temple was in ruins, the buildings were either badly damaged or completely destroyed. Worst of all, what appeared to be a five-story statue of a man was missing half of the statue from the waist up. This could only be the fabled statue of Optimen* that arose from the temple’s judicatory.
Throughout the town we saw hordes of skeletons, zombies and worse things crawling all over the city wreaking havoc on just about everything they encountered. There were also small pebbles that were being hurled at us from unseen assailants as we neared the town’s innermost buildings. It seemed as though the very air around us did not want us around. That was when we saw a man waving at us from the tower of the temple in a frantic manner.
I pointed this man out to my companions and we aimed our flight towards him. As soon as we were close enough, I invoked my Fury-given power to discern this man’s heart, which proved to be good natured. He was not undead, that much was for certain, and he appeared haggard and dirty as though he had seen many months with not so much as a tub of water nor something sharp to shave his face with. However, I will never forget the look in the man’s eyes as I touched down with my companions in front of him. It is a look that, if one lives long enough to see it, it brings purpose to one’s life and renewed faith in good-hearted folk.
It was the look of hope regained when all else was lost.
“Greetings,” I spoke to the man in a formal manner, “I am Bocata Si Nik Nik. We are come to aid you in the reclaiming and rebuilding of Paladium. What is your name, man?”
The weak man seemed as though he would pass out from sheer joy and thankfulness, “I am Anselm, good Bocata,” he wheezed, “Welcome to Paladium.”
It was then that the man passed out. Whether from sheer exhaustion or from the hope of independence regained, I have yet to figure out which.
“Let’s get him down from here,” Jonas said quickly, scooping up the young priest in his arms and heading for the stairs, “Tis not a fit night out for man nor beast.”
I furrowed my brow at that last comment, unsure of it’s intended target. This bard’s humor was going to be something to get used to.
It was some time before the young priest came to and was able to form intelligible words on his own. Jonas worked with him to discover that he and his master were the lone survivors of the fiendish attack on Paladium. When asked where his master was, Sir Anselm (as I discovered later was his official title) told us that his master was resting.
“Why do the undead not attack you?” Laurel asked when Anselm had had a bit of trail rations and some cool water at Jonas’ behest. “They seem not to be able to reach certain parts of the city.”
Anselm chewed his food thoughtfully before answering, “It was one of the final defenses that my master had put in place when the city was besieged. He had laid down forbiddances around the temple and the fane before the fiends were able to get to the middle of the city.”
“Then your master must be a very powerful priest indeed,” Jonas chimed in, nodding the entire time. “May we speak with your master?”
Anselm swallowed hard. “He is…how do I put this…quite mad.”
The matter-of-fact tone to Anselm’s voice was a slap in the face to the four of us. A powerful priest protected a city of great importance, yet he was stark-raving mad?
“Surely this is no time for jest,” I barked, quite irritated with whatever joke this young ingrate was trying to pull off. “This is serious business and we are in need of a powerful priest, not some mad blathering imbecile.”
Anselm looked at me with no expression in his eyes, “I do not jest, larcetan. I speak of truth which I dearly wish was not such.”
“Then how can he cast these powerful magics?” Laurel inquired, feeling a little more than interested at the apparent phenomenon right before her eyes. “Surely the preciseness of spellcasting is something that escapes mad wizards and mad priests. By the Nine Hells I’ve known wizards who could not even cast a fishing rod, much less the simplest of cantrips.” She chuckled at her own joke, “And by all accounts they were quite sane.”
Anselm turned and smiled at the young wizardess, “I know not how he works his magic. That is between himself and the Goddess of Spells**.”
“Venia.” All four of us chimed in at once. It explained everything.
Venia is a powerful goddess of magic and, by all accounts, a good-hearted deity. However, her lack of care for how magic is used is a much debated issue in the world of humans. Magic for good, magic for evil, magic for the weak or powerful. It matters not to the larcetan nor to the caanids, who do not rely on magic granted by the goddess. However, in a room full of finger-twirlers, I was hardly going to be the dissenting voice in any argument that came with the naming of the deity.
“This is not getting us anywhere right now,” I said, keeping my watch on the outside perimeter of the building. “We have brought with us a great force of 50 men-at-arms and all followers of Equitas. However, they remain outside the walls of the city.”
Anselm crinkled his face in confusion, “There are more of you?”
We all nodded and Jonas added in calmed tones, “But there is a great horde at your door that they cannot pass through. Our wizard friend did not prepare her spells to bring all of them over this day.”
Laurel shrugged, “I didn’t think I was to play transport to 50 mounted knights this day.”
Anselm nodded, “Do not worry, we will get your friends into the city. Let us go wake my master up and we will see what he can do.”
Laurel, Archivell, and Jonas rose to leave with Anselm. I spoke as they were leaving the room, “Laurel, how long do we have left on our fly enspellment?”
Laurel poked her head outside and glanced at the sun, “About a score or minutes or less, why?”
I nodded, “While you plan to bring the knights over, I shall wait for you all on the outside with them. Should things turn against them, I wish for Oti Ni Nuad to release the spirits from their tortured existence here on Xad’Nasser.”
As I saw them all leave and walk toward the fane, I willed myself up into the air and over the horde of death that was attempting to desecrate the most holiest of cities on the face of the island. A lump filled my throat at the thought of losing this island to yet another wave of fiends and creatures of death. Someone was going to pay.
Oti Ni Nuad was going to deliver a message of vengeance to whomever was responsible for this foulness. I was a willing messenger.
When I reached the outskirts of town where the host of paladins awaited outside the city, I saw a surprising sight. All 50 were in perfect formation and had stopped their charge approximately 500 feet from the undead host.
I flew up to Oden, mounted on his griffon and addressed him. “Sir Oden,” I bowed and preceded to take in the spectacle of his men, “You have come to your senses I see.”
Oden looked at me with a confused look upon his face. “Senses? We are just acting on what was nothing less than a divine order not to storm this town.”
I opened my mouth to argue his statement, but remembered the shifter and decided to keep my mouth shut instead.
“You were visited by divine presence and no one else saw?” I was trying to sound surprised and a little disbelieving at the same time. Needless to say, acting is not one of my strong points.
“Aye,” Oden said, his grim expression telling me that the man was not jesting in the least, “Flew from the sky and intercepted my mount and I and commanded us to desist.”
I had more things to ask this man about his divine encounter, but none which would have proven productive. I just changed the subject.
“The others are inside trying to discover the easiest way to bring you and your men inside.” I said pointing to the town, “We found survivors.”
Oden’s face lit up at the proclamation, “Survivors?! That’s incredible! How many?”
“Two.”
His face lost some of it’s luminescence, “Just two? Who are they?”
“A mad priest and his serving boy,” I proclaimed, “’Twas waiting at the tower for us when we flew over the horde.”
All happiness at finding survivors left his face at that moment. He groaned audibly.
“I suppose that is blessing enough,” he sighed, “but Optimen must be quite enamored for them to have survived this long out in this wasteland.”
I nodded my agreement, “I suggest you and your men relax for a while, there is no telling how long it will take. I have elected to stay out here with you and your men, to learn what I can of your training and to help you plot our plans to rebuild this great city.”
Oden commanded his men to dismount and then dismounted himself. He went about preparing a small camp, known to those of us who adventure quite often as a “quickfire”, and discussed plans with me for many hours.
Rhen appeared an hour or so later and suggested a plan that he had devised for transporting the men to the town.
“You’re going to shift into a what?” Oden and I asked with questioning looks on our faces. “What in the Black Abyss is that?”
“It’s called a ‘skrimlipod’ and it is large enough to hold half of your men and their mounts.”
“And what about the other half?” Oden asked skeptically, “what would you do with them?”
Rhen looked to Oden indignantly, “I would return for them as quick as may be.” He said with minor conviction.
“How long will that take?” I asked keeping an eye on the horde of undead.
“Each trip will take about 6 hours.” The tone of his voice is what set Oden off more than the words he spoke.
“6 HOURS??” the lord paladin bellowed, “they could all be slaughtered in that amount of time.”
Rhen shrugged helplessly, “I did not say it was without it’s risks.” He pointed to the sun, “You have but a few hours of daylight left, Oden, and you know what undead will appear after sundown.”
Oden did quite up at that. Shadows, specters, and worse things would come out of the dark places of the night and attack the men. Only to make them undead in return and ruin their places in Equitas’ halls of justice.
“Oden, I will stay with one half while you will travel with the other.” I offered this solution as a way to compromise and save the lives of his men. “It will give them hope and protection whilst the transfer is complete.”
Oden thought on this long and hard. “It is a good plan and one that I am willing to chance.” He said carefully, “But on one condition.”
Rhen looked at the paladin, expressionless.
“I ride with them.”
“We will be able to carry less,” the druid said, “wouldn’t you rather ride with the second half?”
“I ride with them. Period.” It seemed Oden was adamant about his decision.
The druid shrugged. “So be it.”
The shifter transformed and, after much toil and reverse engineering, we were able to seat 24 of Oden’s mounted knights atop the skrimlipod’s back. It was a very slow ascension but after an hour or so, the large floating beast was in the air.
Just before dusk, we noticed movement in the fields about the town’s perimeter. It seemed as though the horde was on the move, and whatever had been irresistibly drawing them towards the town was now not strong enough.
“They are leaving,” I said as I watched them going into the east. Nightwalkers and many other nasty creatures were following. It seemed as though they were leaving the town for no reason.
“I see,” said Sir Anton, Oden’s second in command.
“Let us hope that this is a sign of good things to come.” I mused as I tried to view the large moving beast on the horizon. It seemed as though it was just over the city’s main square.
Suddenly, we started hearing other-worldly voices and taunts thrown at us from the black of night. The alarm was sounded and we all rose to our feet, clamoring into armor and drawing weapons as we could. The Hand and Shield were in my hands as quick as any warrior could have drawn them.
The hellish screams of death and dying were all about us and the men were becoming afraid***.
“What is that noise, Sir Bocata?” Anton yelled over the deadly din, “I don’t see anyone here who could be causing it.”
“They are spirits, young warrior,” I replied, searching frantically for anything to materialize and try to attack one of the men. “They are the remains of the dead who were lost and massacred here but a few months ago. Their spirits are strong.”
“What are we to do against an enemy we cannot see?” Anton said, drawing his hammer from a loop at his belt.
“The only thing we can do against such creatures,” I said, sheathing the Shield.
“Pray and run!” Oh, how it pained me to say it.
I gave the order and, against his better judgment, and his orders, Anton repeated my order and I led the charge on foot, while the other men surrounded me. We were going to get into the city of Paladium this night, without the shifter’s aid.
*Our world has a council of "over-gods" that preside over the "regular 'rank and file'" deities of our world. Optimen has one portfolio, Good, and is Co-superior to all deities of the Good alignment. As you travel through our world, you'll learn the names of the other four over-gods.
**Venia is our goddess of magic. She is a neutral good deity that is a bit fickle, but very powerful in the ways in which she speaks with her followers. Almost all of them have some unique gift with magic.
***Oden's men, save for Sir Anton, are first level human paladins. Needless to say they don't get "Divine Courage".
As soon as I figure out how to post a picture on the boards, I'll post one of the big lizard himself.
Arknath
First Post
Bocata defends Helzin
I led the charge as the screaming and taunting around us grew. It was only then did I realize that we were surrounded and the shadows were alive with evil. What was worse, they were spooking the horses and infiltrating our ranks with the ease of a knife through butter.
“Run on!” I commanded Anton, as he stopped to help a fallen man to his feet and his horse. “I will care for the fallen.”
Anton looked at me and nodded, pulling the man to his feet. As I approached him, I grabbed him by the back of his armor and lifted him into his saddle. One quick slap to the horse’s rear was enough to send the beast flying at full speed for the town.
I was quickly being outpaced by the horses of Oden’s men and found myself amongst the stragglers at the end of the line. It was the blessing of the Hunter that none of the men were attacked and turned into evil undead themselves.
On we ran and I yelled commands at them from behind directing them to the locations of the forbiddances that the cleric’s of Venia had placed around the city. This lent new hope to the men, that their salvation and safe haven was but a short ride away. Soon, again, with the blessing of Oti Ni Nuad, we were inside the city, without incident.
“You did WHAT?” Oden boomed at Anton when the younger commander had spoken his actions to his lord. “You were ordered to stay put! Do you follow Bocata now or me?” His face was red behind the large beard he wore.
“B-b-but sir, the m-m-men would have surely perished if not for the actions of Lord Bocata.” Anton stammered. It seemed only one true fear haunted that man, and that was of his lord commander.
“Easy, good Oden,” I offered, as I came walking up, “It was my decision and I will stand by it.” I stood over the man trying not to look intimidating.
“You may be a great warrior, Lord Bocata, but you have much to learn about order and discipline. Being a leader is more than just barking orders at this man and that.” Oden was trying to be respectful, but I could tell he was very angry at what had transpired.
“I will keep that in mind when next I am held responsible for your men, Lord Oden.” My look was hard and unwavering. Oden was a good man, I knew he was relieved at his men’s safety. But, like all leaders, he fears a pattern of disobedience will form from one unfollowed order. I like to call it “sheep-thought”.
Oden stared equally hard back towards me but said nothing. “I will speak to you later, Anton.” He said gruffly. “You are dismissed.”
Anton quickly left and gave me a sideways glance. I am still unsure if it was a silent thank you or a berating. I glanced casually at Oden. It was at this moment that I heard the cry.
“Did you hear that?” I said looking eastwards.
“Hear what?” Oden said, very uninterested. “I did not hear anything.”
The cry came again, this time more urgent. “Something is happening to the east. Some…one is in danger.”
“How do you know this?” Oden asked suspiciously, “I cannot hear anything.”
I looked at him in the eye and knew exactly what I was hearing. As if, by some divine interjection, he had just been struck with the same idea that I had, he nodded.
“Go to it.” He said softly, “It is a special blessing indeed that you have found one out in this wilderness. I will say a prayer for your safe return.”
I nodded. “My thanks, lord paladin. I hope to return and with Oti Ni Nuad’s blessing, I shall.”
We both looked at each other with silent admiration of courage and bravery knowing full well what I was about to do. It was a moment I’ll never forget, a moment shared by two beings of utterly different backgrounds who had come to an understanding.
Without another word, I took off in a dead run towards the eastern part of town. The screaming in my mind was becoming more urgent and the life-pleading nearly tore my heart in twain. I sprinted for nearly a mile, unconscious of my body’s desire to slow down or stop altogether. One moment could make all the difference where this was concerned.
I finally crested the top of the hill and stopped, panting heavily and scanning the low-lying area. There, as big as a hillside itself, was the object of my hunt. It was laying down on it’s side, bleeding from several wounds and crying out in pain, though the cries were not loud by any measure of sound. By the sound of the screaming in my mind, the utter pain and life-ending screaming I knew that this beast was in danger.
This had only happened to me once before, when Oti Ni Nuad blessed me with Nirthogen* had I felt this kind of bond between a creature. I believed that this creature was bonded to me as Nirthogen was, only there was one small difference between this creature and the small four-legged creature that was my companion for almost a year.
This creature had six heads.
I saw what was assaulting this creature. Three very strange and grotesque looking undead creatures were battering my new companion and having great fun with doing so. The scene of them surrounding him was one that enraged me unlike anything I had ever witnessed in my 34 years of life. Oti Ni Nuad had challenged me and I would not fail in that challenge.
So the rage came and I held the door open wide.
My eyes turned a pale red and my muscles tensed. I leapt down the hillock screaming bloody murder to draw attention from the creature as much as I could. The three undead beings turned to look at me and smiled grotesquely to each other as if they had a new toy to torment. It was only when I was within 30 steps of them that they realized I had not come to play.
The first creature I came upon was so slow that it did not have a chance to cherish the last moments of his unnatural life. In one swift motion, I had drawn the Hand and Shield and cut this creature down to ribbons. However, when I sliced into this creature, blood as red as the darkest rose shot towards me and splashed my skin and eyes. So powerful was the burning that I could not open my eyes and was forced into a defensive posture to regain my bearings. As the blood started to seep into my skin, a strong stiffness began to form on my limbs, but I was able to shake the paralyzing poison off.
The other two creatures realized their advantage and closed in, swiping at me with their huge bloated arms and spitting more of their hot, stinging blood onto my body. I cried out in rage and swung wildly trying to find their fat bodies with my sword points but was unable to locate them. It wasn’t until I had calmed a bit that my senses had returned. If I couldn’t see them, I would be forced to smell them out.
The first creature approached me from the right side and as his bulbous arm slammed into my armored chest, I reacted with a three hit combination that sent the monster to the ground. However, my own luck failing, I spilled more of the blood onto my skin. This time, however, I gave into the searing blood’s paralyzing effects and found that I could not move at all. It was Oti Ni Nuad’s hand that stepped in to save his servant, yet again, from certain death.
As I stood there unable to move, the third beast roared in rage and grabbed my head in his hands. His arms tensed and his hands began to move in quick motions, trying to snap my neck in half. My armor, blessed Rageskin, protected me with the strength of the Fury and his attempts to take advantage of my helplessness were ineffective.
As the time wore on, the beast tried several times to destroy me in one quick movement, and each time Rageskin repelled the attempts by the monster to rid me of my life. Through craftsmanship and sure strength of heart, I was serving the Fury well. It was then that I realized my success when I was released from paralyzation and the burning in my eyes had stopped, all at once.
I looked down at my body. My armor, my arms, weapons and even the ground about me was drenched in gory, red blood. I turned to look at the creature before me with utter contempt and hatred in my eyes.
“Now…you die.” I said with grim satisfaction. This creature bellowed again and came on, but I had planted my feet and was ready for him. The Hand and Shield made short work of this monster and I, again, was dripping in blood and surrounded by the unmoving bodies of my enemies.
As the adrenaline drained from my veins, I began to feel the effects of the poison that the creatures had injected into me. I lay next to the creature whom was dying and touched him with my hands. I prayed to the Hunter to save my friend whom I had come to rescue from utter destruction. My Lord answered me and, through me, used his power to ease the suffering of the creature.
My prayer of thanks was quick and unceremonious. Proper thanks would have to be given later. Little did I know, however, that I would be thanking my Lord in a way I never imagined possible. I slumped to the ground, unconscious and feeling very weak.
And I prayed.
*The name of Bocata's first mount.
I led the charge as the screaming and taunting around us grew. It was only then did I realize that we were surrounded and the shadows were alive with evil. What was worse, they were spooking the horses and infiltrating our ranks with the ease of a knife through butter.
“Run on!” I commanded Anton, as he stopped to help a fallen man to his feet and his horse. “I will care for the fallen.”
Anton looked at me and nodded, pulling the man to his feet. As I approached him, I grabbed him by the back of his armor and lifted him into his saddle. One quick slap to the horse’s rear was enough to send the beast flying at full speed for the town.
I was quickly being outpaced by the horses of Oden’s men and found myself amongst the stragglers at the end of the line. It was the blessing of the Hunter that none of the men were attacked and turned into evil undead themselves.
On we ran and I yelled commands at them from behind directing them to the locations of the forbiddances that the cleric’s of Venia had placed around the city. This lent new hope to the men, that their salvation and safe haven was but a short ride away. Soon, again, with the blessing of Oti Ni Nuad, we were inside the city, without incident.
“You did WHAT?” Oden boomed at Anton when the younger commander had spoken his actions to his lord. “You were ordered to stay put! Do you follow Bocata now or me?” His face was red behind the large beard he wore.
“B-b-but sir, the m-m-men would have surely perished if not for the actions of Lord Bocata.” Anton stammered. It seemed only one true fear haunted that man, and that was of his lord commander.
“Easy, good Oden,” I offered, as I came walking up, “It was my decision and I will stand by it.” I stood over the man trying not to look intimidating.
“You may be a great warrior, Lord Bocata, but you have much to learn about order and discipline. Being a leader is more than just barking orders at this man and that.” Oden was trying to be respectful, but I could tell he was very angry at what had transpired.
“I will keep that in mind when next I am held responsible for your men, Lord Oden.” My look was hard and unwavering. Oden was a good man, I knew he was relieved at his men’s safety. But, like all leaders, he fears a pattern of disobedience will form from one unfollowed order. I like to call it “sheep-thought”.
Oden stared equally hard back towards me but said nothing. “I will speak to you later, Anton.” He said gruffly. “You are dismissed.”
Anton quickly left and gave me a sideways glance. I am still unsure if it was a silent thank you or a berating. I glanced casually at Oden. It was at this moment that I heard the cry.
“Did you hear that?” I said looking eastwards.
“Hear what?” Oden said, very uninterested. “I did not hear anything.”
The cry came again, this time more urgent. “Something is happening to the east. Some…one is in danger.”
“How do you know this?” Oden asked suspiciously, “I cannot hear anything.”
I looked at him in the eye and knew exactly what I was hearing. As if, by some divine interjection, he had just been struck with the same idea that I had, he nodded.
“Go to it.” He said softly, “It is a special blessing indeed that you have found one out in this wilderness. I will say a prayer for your safe return.”
I nodded. “My thanks, lord paladin. I hope to return and with Oti Ni Nuad’s blessing, I shall.”
We both looked at each other with silent admiration of courage and bravery knowing full well what I was about to do. It was a moment I’ll never forget, a moment shared by two beings of utterly different backgrounds who had come to an understanding.
Without another word, I took off in a dead run towards the eastern part of town. The screaming in my mind was becoming more urgent and the life-pleading nearly tore my heart in twain. I sprinted for nearly a mile, unconscious of my body’s desire to slow down or stop altogether. One moment could make all the difference where this was concerned.
I finally crested the top of the hill and stopped, panting heavily and scanning the low-lying area. There, as big as a hillside itself, was the object of my hunt. It was laying down on it’s side, bleeding from several wounds and crying out in pain, though the cries were not loud by any measure of sound. By the sound of the screaming in my mind, the utter pain and life-ending screaming I knew that this beast was in danger.
This had only happened to me once before, when Oti Ni Nuad blessed me with Nirthogen* had I felt this kind of bond between a creature. I believed that this creature was bonded to me as Nirthogen was, only there was one small difference between this creature and the small four-legged creature that was my companion for almost a year.
This creature had six heads.
I saw what was assaulting this creature. Three very strange and grotesque looking undead creatures were battering my new companion and having great fun with doing so. The scene of them surrounding him was one that enraged me unlike anything I had ever witnessed in my 34 years of life. Oti Ni Nuad had challenged me and I would not fail in that challenge.
So the rage came and I held the door open wide.
My eyes turned a pale red and my muscles tensed. I leapt down the hillock screaming bloody murder to draw attention from the creature as much as I could. The three undead beings turned to look at me and smiled grotesquely to each other as if they had a new toy to torment. It was only when I was within 30 steps of them that they realized I had not come to play.
The first creature I came upon was so slow that it did not have a chance to cherish the last moments of his unnatural life. In one swift motion, I had drawn the Hand and Shield and cut this creature down to ribbons. However, when I sliced into this creature, blood as red as the darkest rose shot towards me and splashed my skin and eyes. So powerful was the burning that I could not open my eyes and was forced into a defensive posture to regain my bearings. As the blood started to seep into my skin, a strong stiffness began to form on my limbs, but I was able to shake the paralyzing poison off.
The other two creatures realized their advantage and closed in, swiping at me with their huge bloated arms and spitting more of their hot, stinging blood onto my body. I cried out in rage and swung wildly trying to find their fat bodies with my sword points but was unable to locate them. It wasn’t until I had calmed a bit that my senses had returned. If I couldn’t see them, I would be forced to smell them out.
The first creature approached me from the right side and as his bulbous arm slammed into my armored chest, I reacted with a three hit combination that sent the monster to the ground. However, my own luck failing, I spilled more of the blood onto my skin. This time, however, I gave into the searing blood’s paralyzing effects and found that I could not move at all. It was Oti Ni Nuad’s hand that stepped in to save his servant, yet again, from certain death.
As I stood there unable to move, the third beast roared in rage and grabbed my head in his hands. His arms tensed and his hands began to move in quick motions, trying to snap my neck in half. My armor, blessed Rageskin, protected me with the strength of the Fury and his attempts to take advantage of my helplessness were ineffective.
As the time wore on, the beast tried several times to destroy me in one quick movement, and each time Rageskin repelled the attempts by the monster to rid me of my life. Through craftsmanship and sure strength of heart, I was serving the Fury well. It was then that I realized my success when I was released from paralyzation and the burning in my eyes had stopped, all at once.
I looked down at my body. My armor, my arms, weapons and even the ground about me was drenched in gory, red blood. I turned to look at the creature before me with utter contempt and hatred in my eyes.
“Now…you die.” I said with grim satisfaction. This creature bellowed again and came on, but I had planted my feet and was ready for him. The Hand and Shield made short work of this monster and I, again, was dripping in blood and surrounded by the unmoving bodies of my enemies.
As the adrenaline drained from my veins, I began to feel the effects of the poison that the creatures had injected into me. I lay next to the creature whom was dying and touched him with my hands. I prayed to the Hunter to save my friend whom I had come to rescue from utter destruction. My Lord answered me and, through me, used his power to ease the suffering of the creature.
My prayer of thanks was quick and unceremonious. Proper thanks would have to be given later. Little did I know, however, that I would be thanking my Lord in a way I never imagined possible. I slumped to the ground, unconscious and feeling very weak.
And I prayed.
*The name of Bocata's first mount.
