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Better Off Unknown (D&D 3.5 edition)
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<blockquote data-quote="aboyd" data-source="post: 3614901" data-attributes="member: 44797"><p><strong>The Chickens Come Home to Roost, part 4 of 5</strong></p><p></p><p>A large ogre haggled with Draden. His massive hand rested on the oversized door leading to his stables. Once a price was agreed upon, Castor interjected. "So where are the two who brought our horses here?"</p><p></p><p>"One is gone. But the little warrior is with the little warhorse."</p><p></p><p>"Govard is gone? Where'd he go?" asked Castor.</p><p></p><p>"Not sure." The ogre shrugged his broad shoulders. "Listen, I'm not going to eat horses, okay? You tell the little warrior I don't eat horses, okay?"</p><p></p><p>Castor laughed. "Okay. I'll tell him. What's your name, ogre?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, Ogre." He made no further attempt to explain.</p><p></p><p>Castor looked at Draden for a moment, just to see if the conversation was amusing him as well. But Draden was staring off at a far-away crowd. Castor again fixed his eyes upon the ogre and said, "So, Ogre, point me in the direction of Crom, er, the little warrior."</p><p></p><p>Perhaps Castor should not have been surprised to have the conversation take another odd turn, but nonetheless, it was a bit unsettling to have the ogre respond, "I want no part!" And then he slammed his door shut.</p><p></p><p>Castor stood there, shaken, but still a bit amused. He turned to Draden and said, "Surely that got your attention!" But it had not.</p><p></p><p>Draden simply shouted, "Cleric!" in a tone that conveyed both urgency and no desire for friendly chatting.</p><p></p><p>"Are you kidding me?" Alric wasn't thrilled with what he was hearing. He stood at the foot of a towering wall of rock near the back of the cavern, peering into a craggy hole that appeared to lead upward. "I have to pay this Verdash guy just to get out?"</p><p></p><p>The little man nodded. "Or, my big friend here can squash you. Those are the options when trying to use the exit." The man paused, looked at Alric from head to toe, and said, "Say, you wouldn't happen to be a cleric, would you?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes," said Alric, "yes I am."</p><p></p><p>"Ah. So if some strangers to this place were shouting for a cleric, they might be people you know?"</p><p></p><p>Alric turned around. He heard it. He could see the stables. He started running.</p><p></p><p>Govard was already staggering, bruised and pale. Two orcs were bearing down upon him. With one fluid motion, they clubbed him on the back of the head and kept running straight toward Draden. Govard fell prone on the ground.</p><p></p><p>Draden dropped his bow and readied for close combat. Next to him, Castor unleashed a volley of magical missiles, honing in on their target. One orc stumbled, but did not fall.</p><p></p><p>Alric ran up behind the party and called a magical weapon of pure force into being. The air cracked and struck down upon one of the orcs, but it wasn't enough to penetrate the armor. Again the orc stumbled, but pressed forward.</p><p></p><p>Unbeknownst to Alric, others were also running up behind the party. Suddenly Alric felt a biting pain surge through his neck and hit his clavicle. It was well-placed to avoid his chain shirt. He winced as the pain almost brought him to his knees.</p><p></p><p>With the ugly crash of a street brawl, Alric could hear Draden's blades hacking into metal and wood, probably a shield. But Alric had no time to assess the situation. Almost on instinct, he spun dizzily and lunged with his enchanted spear. But it was too sloppy of an effort, and easily deflected.</p><p></p><p>To Alric's horror, he was not confronted with one backstabbing opponent, but two. In a panic, he screamed out for Crommel. At that moment, he felt a sense of submission welling up inside of him, unnatural and unbidden. He shook it off, but found himself flanked as he tried to regain his composure. Alric was outclassed, and he knew it.</p><p></p><p>It only deepened his discouragement to see his assailants nimbly leap out of the way of Castor's magical flames. But it bought Alric a second to rush toward the ogre's stable, and set his back to the wall. He would go down fighting. He lunged again with his spear, and again his thrust was avoided.</p><p></p><p>Alric's force weapon took a final miss at the man attacking Draden, and dissipated. Draden, also outnumbered and badly wounded, fell to his knees. But the two orcs did not press on to attack Castor, and made no move to finish off Draden. One bellowed, "Give up, give us everything!"</p><p></p><p>Everyone hesitated. The bloody standoff had attracted a crowd of onlookers, who stood far back from the fray. Someone booed.</p><p></p><p>"Let me heal my men!" Alric shouted. He moved his hand to his belt.</p><p></p><p>"No!" replied the orc. "Drop everything now or die!"</p><p></p><p>"Then I shall die!" And with that, Alric leapt toward Draden, wand in hand, an incantation on his lips. Castor again called forth fire, immolating one surprised criminal right where he stood.</p><p></p><p>Alric's luck was so thorough that it nearly took shape with a life of its own. One orc swung down hard at Alric as he was in mid-air, but perhaps in the rage of it, swung wildly and too late. The spell charged into Draden at full power, healing the greatest and smallest of wounds.</p><p></p><p>As Alric hit the ground he again felt the overwhelming desire to submit himself to the will of these attackers, but furiously he fought it off as he tumbled out of reach of the orcs. Again he screamed out for Crommel.</p><p></p><p>Draden was not as fortunate, and within a second of regaining awareness, he found himself fending off blows as he lay upon the ground.</p><p></p><p>Castor quickly fired off another volley of magical missiles, and they seared the very air itself as they tore into a burly orc with a religious symbol around his neck. He grimaced and swung at Castor in retaliation.</p><p></p><p>As Draden got back on his feet -- wounded again, but at least swinging a weapon -- Alric regained some hope of survival. He angrily gestured toward the orc who had made the threat, and again a force barreled out, this time hitting with full accuracy and power. With the orc reeling from the blow, Draden sunk his blade into the orc's throat.</p><p></p><p>"No more threats from you!" shouted Alric vengefully. Draden pulled free his blade as the orc slumped down. Then he turned and attacked one of the two remaining opponents. Alric also directed his near-invisible magical weapon toward one of the remaining attackers, and then he charged back into hand-to-hand combat himself.</p><p></p><p>Quickly enough, the third orc fell. But the last -- the brutal, barbaric priest of some corrupt god -- refused to die. Again and again they pounded their weapons upon his shield and armor, and again and again he struck back.</p><p></p><p>The battle became an ugly struggle of blows. No music played. No noble bard sang of glory. It was the dull pounding of subduing a stronger opponent through sheer numbers. But then, the crowd began to cheer. Alric had no idea who they were cheering for. But their enthusiasm grew.</p><p></p><p>Battered, with his armor dented and blood pooling at his feet, the hideous orc began a spell from behind his shield. Alric knew it was a last-ditch effort to save his wretched life. "No." said Alric in the blunt tone of defiance, and all three slammed their weapons into the creature. The orc stumbled backwards, his spell broken.</p><p></p><p>For a moment, he stood with his weapon raised, as if to fight back. He blinked his eyes and made a wheezing sound. Draden approached, as if unafraid, and said, "Perhaps if I remove my blade from your gut, you will breathe easier." Castor saw Draden make a quick tug near the orc's belly, and then the orc fell back against the building.</p><p></p><p>The crowd erupted in even louder applause and surged forward. Alric raced past the people and sprinted down the walkway. Draden and Castor, unsure of what to make of so many praises, simply bent down and began riffling through the orc's pockets.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, the door to the stables slammed open. There stood Crommel, an annoyed look on his face. He hollered in an exasperated tone, "What is all this ruckus?" Then his bulbous nose twitched, and he asked, "Is someone cooking orc?"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="aboyd, post: 3614901, member: 44797"] [b]The Chickens Come Home to Roost, part 4 of 5[/b] A large ogre haggled with Draden. His massive hand rested on the oversized door leading to his stables. Once a price was agreed upon, Castor interjected. "So where are the two who brought our horses here?" "One is gone. But the little warrior is with the little warhorse." "Govard is gone? Where'd he go?" asked Castor. "Not sure." The ogre shrugged his broad shoulders. "Listen, I'm not going to eat horses, okay? You tell the little warrior I don't eat horses, okay?" Castor laughed. "Okay. I'll tell him. What's your name, ogre?" "Yes, Ogre." He made no further attempt to explain. Castor looked at Draden for a moment, just to see if the conversation was amusing him as well. But Draden was staring off at a far-away crowd. Castor again fixed his eyes upon the ogre and said, "So, Ogre, point me in the direction of Crom, er, the little warrior." Perhaps Castor should not have been surprised to have the conversation take another odd turn, but nonetheless, it was a bit unsettling to have the ogre respond, "I want no part!" And then he slammed his door shut. Castor stood there, shaken, but still a bit amused. He turned to Draden and said, "Surely that got your attention!" But it had not. Draden simply shouted, "Cleric!" in a tone that conveyed both urgency and no desire for friendly chatting. "Are you kidding me?" Alric wasn't thrilled with what he was hearing. He stood at the foot of a towering wall of rock near the back of the cavern, peering into a craggy hole that appeared to lead upward. "I have to pay this Verdash guy just to get out?" The little man nodded. "Or, my big friend here can squash you. Those are the options when trying to use the exit." The man paused, looked at Alric from head to toe, and said, "Say, you wouldn't happen to be a cleric, would you?" "Yes," said Alric, "yes I am." "Ah. So if some strangers to this place were shouting for a cleric, they might be people you know?" Alric turned around. He heard it. He could see the stables. He started running. Govard was already staggering, bruised and pale. Two orcs were bearing down upon him. With one fluid motion, they clubbed him on the back of the head and kept running straight toward Draden. Govard fell prone on the ground. Draden dropped his bow and readied for close combat. Next to him, Castor unleashed a volley of magical missiles, honing in on their target. One orc stumbled, but did not fall. Alric ran up behind the party and called a magical weapon of pure force into being. The air cracked and struck down upon one of the orcs, but it wasn't enough to penetrate the armor. Again the orc stumbled, but pressed forward. Unbeknownst to Alric, others were also running up behind the party. Suddenly Alric felt a biting pain surge through his neck and hit his clavicle. It was well-placed to avoid his chain shirt. He winced as the pain almost brought him to his knees. With the ugly crash of a street brawl, Alric could hear Draden's blades hacking into metal and wood, probably a shield. But Alric had no time to assess the situation. Almost on instinct, he spun dizzily and lunged with his enchanted spear. But it was too sloppy of an effort, and easily deflected. To Alric's horror, he was not confronted with one backstabbing opponent, but two. In a panic, he screamed out for Crommel. At that moment, he felt a sense of submission welling up inside of him, unnatural and unbidden. He shook it off, but found himself flanked as he tried to regain his composure. Alric was outclassed, and he knew it. It only deepened his discouragement to see his assailants nimbly leap out of the way of Castor's magical flames. But it bought Alric a second to rush toward the ogre's stable, and set his back to the wall. He would go down fighting. He lunged again with his spear, and again his thrust was avoided. Alric's force weapon took a final miss at the man attacking Draden, and dissipated. Draden, also outnumbered and badly wounded, fell to his knees. But the two orcs did not press on to attack Castor, and made no move to finish off Draden. One bellowed, "Give up, give us everything!" Everyone hesitated. The bloody standoff had attracted a crowd of onlookers, who stood far back from the fray. Someone booed. "Let me heal my men!" Alric shouted. He moved his hand to his belt. "No!" replied the orc. "Drop everything now or die!" "Then I shall die!" And with that, Alric leapt toward Draden, wand in hand, an incantation on his lips. Castor again called forth fire, immolating one surprised criminal right where he stood. Alric's luck was so thorough that it nearly took shape with a life of its own. One orc swung down hard at Alric as he was in mid-air, but perhaps in the rage of it, swung wildly and too late. The spell charged into Draden at full power, healing the greatest and smallest of wounds. As Alric hit the ground he again felt the overwhelming desire to submit himself to the will of these attackers, but furiously he fought it off as he tumbled out of reach of the orcs. Again he screamed out for Crommel. Draden was not as fortunate, and within a second of regaining awareness, he found himself fending off blows as he lay upon the ground. Castor quickly fired off another volley of magical missiles, and they seared the very air itself as they tore into a burly orc with a religious symbol around his neck. He grimaced and swung at Castor in retaliation. As Draden got back on his feet -- wounded again, but at least swinging a weapon -- Alric regained some hope of survival. He angrily gestured toward the orc who had made the threat, and again a force barreled out, this time hitting with full accuracy and power. With the orc reeling from the blow, Draden sunk his blade into the orc's throat. "No more threats from you!" shouted Alric vengefully. Draden pulled free his blade as the orc slumped down. Then he turned and attacked one of the two remaining opponents. Alric also directed his near-invisible magical weapon toward one of the remaining attackers, and then he charged back into hand-to-hand combat himself. Quickly enough, the third orc fell. But the last -- the brutal, barbaric priest of some corrupt god -- refused to die. Again and again they pounded their weapons upon his shield and armor, and again and again he struck back. The battle became an ugly struggle of blows. No music played. No noble bard sang of glory. It was the dull pounding of subduing a stronger opponent through sheer numbers. But then, the crowd began to cheer. Alric had no idea who they were cheering for. But their enthusiasm grew. Battered, with his armor dented and blood pooling at his feet, the hideous orc began a spell from behind his shield. Alric knew it was a last-ditch effort to save his wretched life. "No." said Alric in the blunt tone of defiance, and all three slammed their weapons into the creature. The orc stumbled backwards, his spell broken. For a moment, he stood with his weapon raised, as if to fight back. He blinked his eyes and made a wheezing sound. Draden approached, as if unafraid, and said, "Perhaps if I remove my blade from your gut, you will breathe easier." Castor saw Draden make a quick tug near the orc's belly, and then the orc fell back against the building. The crowd erupted in even louder applause and surged forward. Alric raced past the people and sprinted down the walkway. Draden and Castor, unsure of what to make of so many praises, simply bent down and began riffling through the orc's pockets. Suddenly, the door to the stables slammed open. There stood Crommel, an annoyed look on his face. He hollered in an exasperated tone, "What is all this ruckus?" Then his bulbous nose twitched, and he asked, "Is someone cooking orc?" [/QUOTE]
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