Session 14 (Part Four)
Fateful Decisions
The party, sans Rowan, shouldered their way through the heavy doors and found themselves at one end of a large dining hall perhaps 20 paces wide and 30 paces deep. A dozen trestle tables filled the room, although several on their left flank had been turned onto their side to provide cover for a quartet of crossbowman that sent bolts screaming into the party ranks, grazing several.
Quintus noted four doors leading from the hall, one on each of the long wall and two at opposite ends of the far wall. His architectural assessment was cut short by the actions (or antics) of Rowan. The ranger, yelling dire threats, charged towards a knot of gray cloaks at the center of the far wall. He leapt onto one of the tables and swung mightily at an opponent already bearing wounds.
Unfortunately, his left foot, extended to support his lunge, landed in some gravy residue on the table and shot out from under him. Arms and legs thrashing frantically, Rowan flew into the air and landed in an ignominious heap at the feet of the amazed Shadowblades. Momentarily stunned, he could do nothing as the five men, evil grins splitting their faces, prepared to plunge their blades into his prone form.
(DM’s Note: A lovely “1” followed by fumble confirmation for Rowan!)
As Sextus, Drusilla and Rosë surged past to deal with the crossbowman, Quintus desperately called upon his power with all possible speed. A grain before five gladii tore into Rowan, the sorcerer’s Sleep magic sent four antagonists slumping to the ground, snoring softly. The remaining Shadowblade thrust his blade into Rowan, cutting him deeply.
The crossbowmen dropped their missile weapons and swept out blades as the bard, the rogue and the barbarian arrived at their hastily built defensive position. Sextus traded blows with one of the Shadowblades; each scoring a minor hit on the other. The younger Scipio’s eyes widened as a gaping wound appeared on the right side of his opponent’s neck and the man pitched forward, revealing a grinning Drusilla whose sword was dripping with fresh blood. Sextus’ face reddened with unreasoning exasperation as she winked at him, turned and danced nimbly back into the fray. “That’s three!” He growled.
(DM’s Note: Due primarily to the flow of the action, every time Sextus engaged someone, Drusilla tumbled to flank and finished the enemy off. By the end of the combat, Steve – Sextus’ player – was beside himself! It is especially delicious since Sextus still has overwhelming feelings of guilt surround the whole Cassuvius’ daughters incident.)
A swing of Rosë’s axe smashed another gray cloak backwards over a table in a spray of blood and the barbarian leered at the two men still facing the trio, murder in his eyes.
Lew moved up beside Quintus, crossbow ready. He snapped a shot at the man standing above Rowan, catching him just below the right collarbone and wounding him badly. The ranger, still gasping for breath, struggled to his knees and buried his sword in the man’s gut. The Shadowblade, a red-haired youth with a myriad of freckles, stared dumbly at the hilt of Rowan’s gladius pressed against his midsection before sliding to the floor, dead.
Drusilla and Rosë combined to send another of their opponents to Deathsgate with a pierced lung and severed left leg. Sextus pointed his blade at the last gray cloak standing, a lanky fellow with a narrow face and rat-like eyes. “Surrender now and we will spare your life!”
The man’s gaze darted about the room and Sextus could tell he was weighing flight vs. survival. The Shadowblade’s sword rang loudly as it fell to the floor and the rat-faced man’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Lew nodded his head in approval and moved into the dining hall to see to his friends. Quintus, relieved that everyone – at least among his companions – was more or less intact, slowly backed out of the doorway and returned to the previous room.
Casting a glance over his shoulder to ensure Lew was out of sight, he passed his spear point through the throat of an earlier victim of his Sleep spell. Then he moved to the bloody form of the enemy wizard and began searching for anything useful, pondering their situation as he did so.
Back in the dining hall, Lew applied some curatives to the badly battered Rowan and Rosë. The barbarian grimaced in renewed pain as the adrenaline from his rage dissipated. Still, he shared a ragged grin with his companions as they trussed up the five remaining Shadowblades. Sextus and Rowan looped sturdy rope around the wrists and ankles of the four sleeping gray cloaks while Rosë stood over them, bloody axe in hand. Each was suitably cowed as he awoke. They hauled them into a rough circle in the center of the room and Lew, surveying the carnage about them asked, “What do we do now?”
Quintus returned from his foray with several items in hand, although none of them seemed particularly useful. Looking long and hard at the prisoners, he glanced at Lew, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I have an idea!”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 15 (Part One) – Once More Into The Breach!
~ Old One
(DM's Note: In the aftermath of their "stealth mission" thus far, the party has accumulated 21 enemy KIAs! During the battle, John, Rosë's player, kept a running "body count". At the end of the session he said "Twenty-One!". We all looked at him, puzzled. Then he said "That's how many we took out!" So much for hit and run!)
) he's just keeping his word and spinning his yarn.
