drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Twenty: Servants of the Dragon God
Dru looked out over the group of Tanaroans. The day was blisteringly hot - so hot that she had stripped off her shirt, leaving only a band of cloth to hold her breasts in place. Sweat beaded on her skin, darkened by the sun and lightened by scars - the most recent dotted in a line crossing her chest below the collarbone, a relic of the dragon's fangs.
"All right, let's try it again!" she shouted. The Tanaroans couldn't understand her, but it made her feel better.
She snapped her spear up into a guard position, and the villagers followed suit.
"They'll never be ready in time," Dru reported to Di'Fier. "Not if what the Zombi Master told us is right. It'll be a massacre."
Di'Fier thought back to Burowao's Zombi Master, and the spell he had cast to look upon the enemies of the villages. "Ten canoes," he had said, "and ten men in each." If his spell was correct, they had sailed yesterday, and would be here in two more. The Tanaroans outnumbered the raiders greatly, but the raiders had training, and they had steel weapons.
"I think we need an alternate plan," he said, running the coarse cloth over the length of his blade. "If they've sent fifty men, there can't be that many left at their camp. We could go in and free their captives while they're all gone."
Dru frowned. "What about Tanaroa? And the other villages?"
"They won't find anything if they land at Panitube," Di'Fier mused. "And if they sail up the coast and find Tanaroa deserted as well..."
"It may spook them," Dru nodded slowly in agreement. "It will certainly delay them either way." She glanced around the village. "With all of their leaders dead or gone, this won't be easy to organize. I hope the Council of Matriarchs makes their decision soon."
Di'Fier nodded. "Let's go talk to Burowao's Zombi Master. He hasn't left yet, and they should listen to him."
They left that night, on outriggers pushed silently before the wind, swinging south to avoid the current that even now carried the raiders towards the villages.
"I hope we are doing the right thing," Dru muttered as the Tanaroan warriors climbed aboard. "I feel bad leaving them practically defenseless."
"They won't be there to be attacked," Di'Fier reminded her. "The raiders will just find an empty village. And they've never gone inland before. Hopefully those curse-sticks the Zombi Master set up will frighten them off. Even if they don't understand them, they're pretty unsettling to look at."
Dru glanced over at the other canoe, where Benares and Shesara rode in the company of more Tanaroans. She hoped there would be enough space in the canoes to ferry the captives back.
Night of the third day at sea. A hand shook Di'Fier awake. "What is it?" he asked blearily.
"Land ho," muttered Dru. "I tried to tell them to find us a beach out of sight of the pirate camp. I think they understood me."
"Good thinking," Di'Fier said. He muttered some arcane syllables, his thumb rubbing across a piece of leather, summoning protective energy to surround him. "We can cross over the land and get an idea of the layout of the camp."
In minutes, the two canoes had been beached, and Benares and Shesara had joined them. Dru turned to the others. "Stay here," she said, gesturing to the ground. "We'll be back."
They set off into the jungle, creeping through, always keeping the glimmer of moonlight on the water barely visible through the trees. "I can see a watchtower," Shesara said.
"Looks like they have a wall of some kind. I'm going to check it out." Dru crept closer a bit, then returned. "Thornbushes. It'll take a while to get through it, but if we go around those towers will see us."
"We'll have to go through, and hope we aren't spotted," said Di'Fier.
"I believe I can handle that." Shesara raised a hand, singing softly to herself, and the foursome slowly faded from sight.
"Erik. The mead." The red-haired warrior waved a hand from where he lay in the prow of the shattered ship, underneath the dragon figurehead. The sandy cave where the remains of the ship were stored was lit only by a couple of flickering torches.
"You come get it. I'm comfortable." The blonde scratched at his beard. "Damn Sigmund for leaving us behind. Just because we-what was that?"
The redhead sat up. "What was what?"
His companion stared at the sand...and the bootprint that had appeared where no foot had fallen. He opened his mouth to reply, but made no sound: instead, blood trickled forth, and he collapsed. Behind him a figure coalesced from the darkness.
"Alfar!" he shouted, diving forward just as an invisible blade slammed into the seat where he lay. He spun and swung, but his own sword was turned aside as it neared the new attacker's skin. He struggled for a better grip on his sword, but more people kept appearing from out of the air. A quarterstaff lodged in his solar plexus, knocking him to his knees, and a slender blade ended his life.
Shouts came from outside as the guard toppled, and Dru flicked the blood from her sword with a snarl. She began heading for the mouth of the cave, but Di'Fier's hand stopped her. He muttered the words to a spell, and once again she faded from sight.
She crept to the front of the cave, turned. "They're coming down from the towers," she said. "Heading for the cave. Looks like they're leaving people up there as well, though." Sand was swept in a circle under her invisible foot as she turned and exited the cave.
Di'Fier turned to the others. "You heard her, let's be ready for them."
"It was a battle to sing about," the Tanaroan warrior told his fellow villagers. "They are truly a gift from the gods. They struck down those guarding the camp like lightning from a sky, and freed those that had been enslaved."
"It is good that the women have come back." The voice of the Zombi Master made the villagers jump, as they turned to see his skull-tattooed face. "And if the children are as strong as those who fathered them, then perhaps their gods will smile upon us too."
The villagers nodded happily. One could never have the favor of too many gods.
"But what of the heros?" one youngster asked. "Did they return to their home?"
"No. They have stayed behind. They plan to destroy the raiders when they return."
The young man's eyes nearly started from his skull. "But there are only four of them, and more than ten times that many raiders! They will be slaughtered!"
In response, the warrior looked to the dragon-skull that had been placed in front of the visitor's hut. "I am not so sure..."
Dru looked out over the group of Tanaroans. The day was blisteringly hot - so hot that she had stripped off her shirt, leaving only a band of cloth to hold her breasts in place. Sweat beaded on her skin, darkened by the sun and lightened by scars - the most recent dotted in a line crossing her chest below the collarbone, a relic of the dragon's fangs.
"All right, let's try it again!" she shouted. The Tanaroans couldn't understand her, but it made her feel better.
She snapped her spear up into a guard position, and the villagers followed suit.

"They'll never be ready in time," Dru reported to Di'Fier. "Not if what the Zombi Master told us is right. It'll be a massacre."
Di'Fier thought back to Burowao's Zombi Master, and the spell he had cast to look upon the enemies of the villages. "Ten canoes," he had said, "and ten men in each." If his spell was correct, they had sailed yesterday, and would be here in two more. The Tanaroans outnumbered the raiders greatly, but the raiders had training, and they had steel weapons.
"I think we need an alternate plan," he said, running the coarse cloth over the length of his blade. "If they've sent fifty men, there can't be that many left at their camp. We could go in and free their captives while they're all gone."
Dru frowned. "What about Tanaroa? And the other villages?"
"They won't find anything if they land at Panitube," Di'Fier mused. "And if they sail up the coast and find Tanaroa deserted as well..."
"It may spook them," Dru nodded slowly in agreement. "It will certainly delay them either way." She glanced around the village. "With all of their leaders dead or gone, this won't be easy to organize. I hope the Council of Matriarchs makes their decision soon."
Di'Fier nodded. "Let's go talk to Burowao's Zombi Master. He hasn't left yet, and they should listen to him."

They left that night, on outriggers pushed silently before the wind, swinging south to avoid the current that even now carried the raiders towards the villages.
"I hope we are doing the right thing," Dru muttered as the Tanaroan warriors climbed aboard. "I feel bad leaving them practically defenseless."
"They won't be there to be attacked," Di'Fier reminded her. "The raiders will just find an empty village. And they've never gone inland before. Hopefully those curse-sticks the Zombi Master set up will frighten them off. Even if they don't understand them, they're pretty unsettling to look at."
Dru glanced over at the other canoe, where Benares and Shesara rode in the company of more Tanaroans. She hoped there would be enough space in the canoes to ferry the captives back.

Night of the third day at sea. A hand shook Di'Fier awake. "What is it?" he asked blearily.
"Land ho," muttered Dru. "I tried to tell them to find us a beach out of sight of the pirate camp. I think they understood me."
"Good thinking," Di'Fier said. He muttered some arcane syllables, his thumb rubbing across a piece of leather, summoning protective energy to surround him. "We can cross over the land and get an idea of the layout of the camp."
In minutes, the two canoes had been beached, and Benares and Shesara had joined them. Dru turned to the others. "Stay here," she said, gesturing to the ground. "We'll be back."
They set off into the jungle, creeping through, always keeping the glimmer of moonlight on the water barely visible through the trees. "I can see a watchtower," Shesara said.
"Looks like they have a wall of some kind. I'm going to check it out." Dru crept closer a bit, then returned. "Thornbushes. It'll take a while to get through it, but if we go around those towers will see us."
"We'll have to go through, and hope we aren't spotted," said Di'Fier.
"I believe I can handle that." Shesara raised a hand, singing softly to herself, and the foursome slowly faded from sight.

"Erik. The mead." The red-haired warrior waved a hand from where he lay in the prow of the shattered ship, underneath the dragon figurehead. The sandy cave where the remains of the ship were stored was lit only by a couple of flickering torches.
"You come get it. I'm comfortable." The blonde scratched at his beard. "Damn Sigmund for leaving us behind. Just because we-what was that?"
The redhead sat up. "What was what?"
His companion stared at the sand...and the bootprint that had appeared where no foot had fallen. He opened his mouth to reply, but made no sound: instead, blood trickled forth, and he collapsed. Behind him a figure coalesced from the darkness.
"Alfar!" he shouted, diving forward just as an invisible blade slammed into the seat where he lay. He spun and swung, but his own sword was turned aside as it neared the new attacker's skin. He struggled for a better grip on his sword, but more people kept appearing from out of the air. A quarterstaff lodged in his solar plexus, knocking him to his knees, and a slender blade ended his life.
Shouts came from outside as the guard toppled, and Dru flicked the blood from her sword with a snarl. She began heading for the mouth of the cave, but Di'Fier's hand stopped her. He muttered the words to a spell, and once again she faded from sight.
She crept to the front of the cave, turned. "They're coming down from the towers," she said. "Heading for the cave. Looks like they're leaving people up there as well, though." Sand was swept in a circle under her invisible foot as she turned and exited the cave.
Di'Fier turned to the others. "You heard her, let's be ready for them."

"It was a battle to sing about," the Tanaroan warrior told his fellow villagers. "They are truly a gift from the gods. They struck down those guarding the camp like lightning from a sky, and freed those that had been enslaved."
"It is good that the women have come back." The voice of the Zombi Master made the villagers jump, as they turned to see his skull-tattooed face. "And if the children are as strong as those who fathered them, then perhaps their gods will smile upon us too."
The villagers nodded happily. One could never have the favor of too many gods.
"But what of the heros?" one youngster asked. "Did they return to their home?"
"No. They have stayed behind. They plan to destroy the raiders when they return."
The young man's eyes nearly started from his skull. "But there are only four of them, and more than ten times that many raiders! They will be slaughtered!"
In response, the warrior looked to the dragon-skull that had been placed in front of the visitor's hut. "I am not so sure..."