Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 25

“Is that it?” Bredan asked. “The stone?”

“Yes,” Quellan said.

“How do you know?” the smith asked.

“It fits the description,” Glori said. “And what else could it be?”

“Didn’t the wizard say it would be hidden?” Bredan asked. “That the cult used misdirection?”

“It’s really the stone,” Quellan said. “I’m not sure how I know, but I can feel its power. It’s… remarkable. It feels like… home.”

Kosk shot his friend a dubious look. “Keep it together a bit longer,” he said. “What are we going to do about that?”

He pointed, and the others realized that they had missed an obvious feature of the room in their intense initial reaction to the sight of their goal. There was a design marked into the floor, a circle roughly five paces across in the middle of the room. This one looked like it was sketched onto the stone rather than engraved into the surface, marked with what looked like some sort of reddish chalk. The runes that made up the design were not in any language any of them knew, but their previous encounters in the shrine made them only more ominous.

“We should deal with that before we try for the stone,” Kosk said.

“We can easily get around it,” Glori said.

“Don’t you remember what happened with those demons?” the dwarf persisted. “How much do you want to bet something awful pops into that circle when we touch the stone?”

“It may not be that simple,” Quellan said. “This one is obvious, unlike the other. It could be breaching the circle that summons the guardian. Or it could be set to trigger on contact with the stone… but the circle could keep the thing in check. Summoning circles are often set up like that, to protect whoever is conjuring from the effects of the planar breach—or from the creature that comes through it. Planar bindings can often have wildly unpredictable effects.”

“So what you’re basically saying is that we could be screwed either way,” Kosk said.

“That seems to be the theme of this place,” Bredan commented.

Kosk glanced at him then returned his focus to the cleric. “Look, you’re the expert when it comes to magic stuff,” the dwarf said. “Just make a decision.”

Quellan paused a moment. “Leave it be,” he said.

They made their way slowly around the perimeter of the room, checking for any sign of traps or other dangers that might be a bit less obvious than the summoning circle. Glori strummed her lyre and again sent out her dancing lights, letting them drift around the room to brighten every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling. But their searches found nothing amiss, and they finally ended up in front of the altar.

The magic stone was set upon a small pyramid of metal struts that was partially embedded into the substance of the altar. The artifact appeared to be simply resting there, without any catches or bindings that they could see. It was difficult to examine it closely, as every subtle shift and movement of the torch caused a fresh cascade of reflected light to scintillate off its uneven surface. A search of the altar uncovered no obvious mechanisms either on top of or under it, though they already knew that the Eth’barat had been accomplished at keeping such things hidden.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” Kosk said. He started to reach for the stone, but Glori stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Let me do it,” she said. “I’ve got the least fighting ability of anyone in the group. If something does pop up you should all be ready to deal with it.”

“Nobody thinks less of you because you’re not a fighter,” Bredan quickly said. “At least I don’t.”

“As long as someone does it,” Kosk muttered. He took his staff and headed around to the far side of the altar, where he could keep a close eye on the rest of the room. Quellan and Bredan moved to flank the bard, leaving enough distance to maneuver if it became necessary.

“It’s a good plan,” Quellan said. “Whenever you’re ready, Glori.”

She nodded and double-checked to make sure her lyre and bow were out of the way. She put the torch down on the edge of the altar, pausing just in case that triggered some kind of trap. But nothing happened, other than the scintillations within the crystal shifting again. She took a deep breath, and after one last glance at the others she reached out and took hold of the stone.

As soon as her fingers contacted the crystal there was a flash of light and smoke similar to the teleportation effect from the room outside. The smoke cleared quickly to reveal another creature.

This one was smaller than even the demons they’d battled before, though like them its flesh had a soft, runny look, like a candle that had been left too close to the fireplace. But this one was otherwise completely different; it had wings that it flapped wildly to keep it aloft, and its flesh was the bright orange of an open flame. That similarity wasn’t limited just to its color; its arrival was accompanied by a rush of heat that they could feel even from five steps away.

No sooner had the creature appeared that it flapped its wings and lunged forward. But it hit something, an invisible barrier that rebuffed it. It let out a thin screech and regarded them with an angry look. None of them missed the fact that the barrier coincided with the chalk circle etched into the floor.

When the mephit appeared Glori’s hand had clenched reflexively around the stone and she yanked it back. The artifact came free easily, but as she jostled the metal stand they could all hear a clear and decisive click from somewhere inside the altar.

That ominous sound was followed a moment later by an echoing snap from directly above them. The companions looked up just in time to see a trapdoor that all of them had missed swing open on the ceiling. Two oblong objects fell from it, plummeting toward the front of the altar, right toward where Kosk was standing.

The dwarf reacted faster than any of them. He lunged out and snagged one of the objects from the air. It was a clay jug, sealed with a stopper rimmed in wax. Even as he secured it in his arms he tried to swing around and intercept the second, but he was just a scant instant too slow. The second jug struck the front edge of the altar and shattered. Its contents, several hundred metal spheres each roughly the size of a grape, were launched across the room. They bounced off the altar, the floor, and the companions. Others hit the ground and rolled, quickly covering almost the entire floor of the room.

At least a dozen crossed the chalk circle that was keeping the summoned mephit penned in.

The creature reacted immediately, flapping its wings again to launch it forward at the adventurers. But even as they lifted their weapons to fight it the thing opened its narrow jaws wide and unleashed a gout of flame that engulfed the entire space around the altar.

 

[SolitonMan]

This is a really fun story, Lazybones, thanks for sharing!

 

[LapBandit]

I've thoroughly enjoyed myself so far! Keep going =)!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks, guys! I appreciate the feedback. I'm having fun writing this one.

* * *

Chapter 26

The four companions dove for cover as the magma mephit breathed a spray of flames onto them. But only Glori had good protection, ducking behind the solid mass of the altar. Both Bredan and Quellan retreated from the flames and got only mildly singed.

But Kosk had nowhere to go. The dwarf ducked and turned, protecting the clay jug in his arms from the flames. He didn’t know what it held, but he’d felt the slosh of liquid inside and guessed that whatever it was would only add to their difficulties. He quickly tucked it as far under the altar as he could reach and then rounded on the mephit, his staff sweeping up to intercept its attack. The iron-tipped end struck it in the body but it was only a glancing blow that inflicted little damage. The creature responded by lashing out with one of its hind legs, slashing into Kosk’s shoulder with its claws. The heat of its body caused the wounds to sizzle, and the dwarf stumbled and went down, scattering a few dozen of the steel balls as he fell.

Before the creature could finish him off Bredan lunged forward, sweeping out with his sword. He was moving a bit awkwardly, sliding his feet instead of striding, but that kept him from slipping on the steel balls. The mephit saw him coming and started to draw back, but the young smith still clipped its body with the tip of his blade. It wasn’t a killing blow, but the sharp steel ripped open a gash in the thing’s side, and it let out a sharp squeal that was now obviously a cry of pain. It fluttered back out of his reach, dripping gobs of blood that sizzled as they struck the floor.

Quellan immediately moved to help Kosk, but as he came around the altar the half-orc slid on several of the steel spheres littering the floor. He grunted hard as he caromed off the protruding stone, but as soon as he struck the ground he pushed himself up, crawling forward the last few steps to the fallen monk. His healing magic had been depleted in their earlier confrontations, but he didn’t hesitate to take out his own potion and pour its contents down the dwarf’s throat. Kosk coughed and gasped but managed to keep the healing liquid down while it worked its magic.

Bredan kept pressing the mephit, sliding after it as it flapped awkwardly around the perimeter of the chamber. The creature could have escaped through the open door, but either the magic that had summoned it kept it here or its anger overrode its fear of them. With the need to be careful moving around the smith couldn’t easily catch the more nimble creature, but the room wasn’t big enough to let it escape the long reach of his huge sword. An arrow flashed past it, narrowly missing its head, and it chittered an angry remark in Glori’s direction before diving to avoid another sweep of Bredan’s sword. But its escape had pushed it closer to the others, who were beginning to recover from its initial assault.

“You’re running out of room!” Bredan yelled at it.

The mephit spun back to face him, and let out a cackling sound that might have been laughter. Bredan frowned and lifted his sword, but before he could launch another attack he felt a wave of heat pass over him. Looking down, he realized that the heat wasn’t coming from the creature, or rather it wasn’t directly. It was coming from him, or more precisely from his armor, which had begun to glow. That glow quickly deepened into the familiar ruddy color he knew so well from the forge.

He managed to get the coif protecting his head off, tossing the glowing links aside even as they burned his fingers. But he couldn’t get the hauberk that covered his body from neck to hips off him, and he screamed as the heat seared through his body.

“Bredan!” Glori cried, as her friend collapsed. Without thinking she leapt over the altar and ran toward him, steel balls skittering away as she kicked them. Somehow she managed not to fall, but as she neared the fallen smith the mephit turned and dove at her. She had her dagger, but that seemed a pathetic weapon against such a thing.

The mephit extended its claws toward her unprotected face. In reflex Glori brought up her hands, including the one that still held onto the stone of the Eth’barat. The crystal seemed to glow in her hand, and against that radiance the planar creature was repelled almost as it had been by the magic circle earlier. It fluttered back, trying to get its bearings.

Something flashed in the air and struck the creature. The mephit flinched, and as it spun around Glori could see one of Kosk’s knives embedded in the sagging flesh of its torso. The wound seemed to focus its attention again, however, and it came again toward Glori. She lifted the stone again, but this time the little imp kept back and opened its jaws wide to breathe another spray of flames.

Glori flinched back, but before the creature could unleash its magic a loud roar from right behind her startled her and nearly caused her to slip on the unsteady floor. The mephit apparently was startled as well, for it aborted its attack and tried to swoop clear of the approaching threat. But it couldn’t get out of way in time of the charging half-orc who shot past Glori and leapt into the air after the fleeing creature. His mace intercepted it with a solid crack of shattering bones. The mephit let out a hiss and flopped to the floor, where its body seemed to collapse into a heap of what looked like bubbling magma.

When Quellan saw that his eyes widened. He turned and grabbed hold of Glori, thrusting her in front of him as he turned his back toward the creature. The bard tensed, expecting something terrible to happen, but the remains of the mephit just sizzled for a moment and then dissolved into smoke that disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Bredan!” Glori said. She pulled clear from Quellan and ran over to him. The smith was still conscious, but he was obviously in incredible pain. Glori took out her waterskin and sprayed its contents onto his armor. The water hissed into steam, enveloping him for a moment but cooling the armor enough for the cherry glow to fade. She followed that up with a healing spell from her lyre, the magic steadying his breathing and easing the color where his skin had been burned from contact with the hot mail.

“That… what was… that thing?” he asked.

“A mephit,” Quellan explained. “A creature of the elemental planes.”

“What… what was that about, with Glori earlier?” Bredan asked. “You acted like it was going to attack again, after you hit it.”

The half-orc looked embarrassed. “Ah, well…” he said. “From the accounts I’ve read, they can, ah, explode when they die.”

“Explode?” Bredan asked. “Remind me not to take any more jobs for wizards.” He grimaced as Glori helped him up, but he didn’t seem seriously hurt by his near-brush with death.

“Speaking of jobs, maybe we’d better put an end to this one,” Kosk said. The dwarf was moving a bit gingerly as well, shuffling to scatter the lingering steel balls out of his path as he came over to join them. His robe looked as though it had been shoved into a fireplace a few times.

“We’d better take a short rest first,” Quellan said. “Our resources are almost depleted, and we’re in no state to deal with any more surprises.”

The others all looked to Kosk, and for a moment it looked like the dwarf would protest. But finally he shook his head and said, “Fine by me.” He shuffled forward to the nearest wall, and with a grunt slowly slid down against it, then folded his legs in front of him and closed his eyes.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 27

After resting for about an hour the companions retraced their steps back through the shrine. Glori kept custody of the artifact, putting it in the special container that Starfinder had given them. That was a wooden box just barely big enough to hold the stone, with faint marks in silver filigree traced upon the panels. After lighting a fresh torch, they set out again.

They were wary of more traps, or another surprise designed to catch someone trying to depart with their prize, but the Eth’barat apparently had already thrown everything they had against them. But as they made their way back up the steps and approached the entry chamber with the now-ruined stone masks they sensed motion up ahead. Quellan whispered a warning back at the others, but they all knew that whoever it was must have already seen the light from their torch.

When they entered the room they found a familiar face waiting for them. Arras was examining a small steel axe that she’d apparently found under one of the dead bugbears. None of them failed to notice that she’d flipped the hulking corpse over on her own.

“You missed this,” she said, holding up the axe. “A minor enchantment, but valuable nevertheless. Fairly careless, I’d say.”

“Were they working for you?” Kosk asked, indicating the bugbears with one hand while the other kept a ready grip on his staff.

“Did you find the book?” Arras asked.

“What book?” Bredan asked. Kosk’s face twitched, but he kept his focus on the old woman.

Arras shifted her attention to the smith. She didn’t say anything, but after a moment Bredan flinched back. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Never mind,” the old woman said. “You can take your rock and go.”

Kosk took a step forward. “You’ll answer our questions first.”

“Or else what?” Arras asked. “Don’t bother, I already know the answer. And as amusing as that might be, I have more pressing concerns to attend to.”

“Now wait…” Quellan said, but before he could finish his statement the old woman made a small gesture and disappeared.

“Hey, where’d she go?” Bredan asked.

“Invisibility, I expect,” Kosk said. He held out his staff and walked quickly over to where Arras had been standing, but found only empty air.

“Maybe a teleport?” Glori asked.

“If she’s that powerful, we should be grateful she didn’t want to stick around and chat,” Quellan said with a meaningful look at Kosk.

“Are you all right?” Glori asked Bredan.

“Yeah. I felt… it was like she was in my head, somehow.”

“Another magic spell,” Quellan said. “More powerful than I could manage.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Kosk said, and that time none of them disagreed.

The trail down the bluff gave them no difficulty, though they were careful to use their rope again on the descent. They found Arras’s camp empty save for some assorted litter; there weren’t even any tracks to suggest which direction the mule might have gone. They had only spent a few hours in the shrine, but they all agreed it might be better to remain close to the shelter of the bluff before starting out on the return journey. They still had a few healing potions left in reserve, but they also still had a few lingering injuries and the cleric and bard would be able to treat them the next day when they had a chance to recover their spells. Glori explained that the magic in her lyre functioned much like that of a living caster who could cast a certain number of spells each day.

Kosk went over every inch of the old woman’s camp and the surrounding area before he joined the others around the fire. She’d even left them some cut wood nearby, so all they had to do was refresh the pit and light it. Glori helped Bredan get out of his armor, wincing as she saw the damage it had done to his clothes during the mephit’s magical attack.

“I hope I don’t need to tell you to trust my instincts in the future,” Kosk said to them. He pointed a finger at Bredan. “If you hadn’t raised such a stink earlier, we might have gotten a chance to search the old woman while she was out, and find out what she truly was.”

“We’re still not sure what she truly is,” Glori pointed out. “And she might have just been shamming when you hit her.”

“There are some things you can’t fake,” Kosk said, but he frowned as he considered her words.

“The ends don’t justify the means,” Quellan said as he unpacked food from their stores. Their packs, at least, had been right where they had left them.

“Well, we got the jewel,” Kosk said. “You do have it, right?” he asked Glori.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’m keeping a close eye on it.”

“It didn’t seem like Arras was interested in it,” Bredan said.

“Still, we shouldn’t let our guard down until we’re back in Crosspath,” Kosk said.

“I don’t think anyone will disagree with you there,” Glori said. She looked serious, but after a moment broke into a wide grin. “You have to admit, though, that we kicked that shrine’s ass.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 28

It was a dreary, blustery day in Crosspath. A steady drizzle had kept up for most of the morning, leaving the streets muddy but not quite sodden. Sharp gusts of wind occasionally swept through the town, rattling shutters and whistling through gaps in old boards. The few folk who were out and about hurried on their business, their heads down and their coats or cloaks tugged tight around their bodies.

Despite the unpleasantness of the day, the four adventurers lingered as they came to the intersection that would take Quellan and Kosk back to the monastery and Glori and Bredan into town. While each of them had known that their quest would end at this moment, the shared bond of their recent experience added a few extra moments of delay before their final farewell.

The meeting with the wizard had gone smoothly and was almost an anticlimax. Starfinder had not asked them for any details of their adventure, and if anything had seemed eager to send them on their way once they had indicated that they had been successful in their mission to recover the stone.

Bredan was still a little bit stunned from that brief encounter and reached down to touch his pouch for about the twentieth time since leaving the wizard’s abode. Inside was a linen purse that contained precisely eighty-seven gold and five silver pieces. He hadn’t counted it yet, but he had no doubt that the number of coins would be exact. It weighed just a few pounds but somehow it felt heavier. He couldn’t help but think of all the things he could buy with that money, but his resolution to hand it all over to his uncle to rebuild the Karras Forge hadn’t wavered.

That thought did remind him of something else, however.

Quellan and Glori were looking at each other, each of them obviously unwilling to put the words to their parting of ways. Not surprisingly it was Kosk who stepped forward first. “Reckon we’d all better be on our way,” the dwarf said in a gruff voice.

“Quellan I almost forgot, I still owe you for the crossbow,” Bredan said. He started to reach for his pouch again, but the half-orc forestalled him with a raised hand.

“Keep it. It may come in handy someday.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you needed it on this trip,” Kosk noted.

“I suppose this is good-bye, then,” Quellan said.

“Come on, it’s not like you’re heading to a different town,” Glori said. “I’ll stand you a drink at the Tusk sometime. Assuming that’s not forbidden in your order.”

“It would be amusing to see them try to enforce such a ban,” Kosk said.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you,” Glori said, thrusting out a hand. After a moment, Kosk shook it.

She turned to Quellan, but before either could say anything they all became aware of a commotion coming from the direction of the center of town. They could hear voices, some of them quite agitated, accompanied by a stream of people who emerged from the town square heading to the outer ring of homes and businesses. They didn’t look like they were fleeing some immediate emergency, but the looks on their faces were universally fraught with worry.

“What’s all this now?” Kosk asked.

Bredan saw someone he knew and ran forward to intercept him. “Kev, what’s going on?”

The young man was dressed in his working clothes—he was one of the hostlers at Cody’s Yards—but was clearly flustered. “You haven’t heard?”

“We only just got back into town,” Glori explained.

Kev gave Quellan and Kosk—but especially Quellan—a long look before his eyes yanked back to Bredan. “A whole army of goblin-folk has invaded the north,” the hostler said. “Hundreds of them, maybe thousands! Several villages were burned and a whole bunch of people were killed! The King… they just read his proclamation in front of the town hall.”

“What did King Dangren have to say?” Kosk asked.

Kev blinked a moment, as if surprised to be asked that question. Glori snapped her fingers to get his attention. “Kev… what was the proclamation?”

“It’s an order of conscription… the King’s raising an army!”

* * *

Author’s Note: when I first had the idea for this story I started with a module that I’d written some years back for 3e and actually ran for a live group. I’ve updated “The Shrine of the Eth’barat” to 5e and attached it for anyone who is interested.

 

[SolitonMan]

Thanks for sharing the adventure, Lazybones!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for sharing the adventure, Lazybones!

Of course!

Here's part 3 of the story, continuing the meta-RPG theme. I'll post the Level 2 stats for the party at the end of this post.

* * *

Book 3: SIDEQUESTS

Chapter 29

Bredan stared into the dancing flames of the campfire and wondered if he’d made the right decision.

The rain had finally let up and it had actually turned out to be a pleasant evening. The lingering light of the sunset ignited the far horizon with a diverse palette of colors. The breeze that stirred the fire was mild, promising a relatively warm night. Bredan could hear the clatter of pots as Quellan cleaned up the dishes from the evening meal in the stream just behind their camp. Glori had gone off to attend to nature’s call, though he knew she would be close enough to bring the others quickly if something threatened. Kosk was seated across the fire, but the smith might as well have been alone for all the attention the dwarf gave him. That was fine with Bredan. His thoughts were distracted, and he mentally retraced the steps that had brought him back to the wilds in the company of his former companions.

The reaction in Crosspath to the King’s proclamation had been dramatic. Every time that Bredan had gone into town it seemed that it was the only topic of conversation. Among his peers there had been plenty of talk about signing up, taking the King’s coin and marching north to do battle with the fierce humanoids that had invaded the kingdom and slain the brave homesteaders of its northernmost province. From the tone of those discussions, many of the town’s young men weren’t even willing to wait until the royal recruiter arrived with the census roll and the pay chest.

Bredan hadn’t let himself get drawn into such talk. He’d been content to give his share of Starfinder’s reward to his uncle. The work of rebuilding the forge had already begun, and for several days Bredan found himself working from dawn to dusk and sometimes beyond. There was plenty to do, more than enough to leave him too tired to ponder abstract thoughts, but he still found his mind wandering. He certainly wasn’t nostalgic for the Dry Hills or the terrifying confrontations they’d had at the shrine of the Eth’barat, but it was difficult to lose himself in the mundane work of rebuilding the forge after everything that had happened.

His uncle hadn’t failed to notice the change. On the third morning after his return the elder Karras had taken Bredan aside. “I’ll be forever in debt to you for what you’ve done here, boy,” he said. “No, I suppose I can’t say that anymore. You’re a man now, and have been for quite some time. Rather too old to be an apprentice, I wager.”

Bredan had been too surprised to say anything. “I was thinking of taking on another boy when we get the forge going again,” his uncle had continued. “Business might be a bit slow this winter, what with so many of the younger men heading north. Not really enough work for two smiths.”

In hindsight, Bredan could recognize that his uncle had seen his situation more clearly than he had and was giving him a little push in the direction he’d already chosen to go.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Glori had come to that realization before he had. When Bredan had run into her in town he’d barely had a chance to tell her about his talk with his uncle before she was planning their trip north. She’d bought some new clothes and a few other assorted things but still had most of her share of the wizard’s gold, more than enough to buy supplies for the long journey to Adelar. Though presumably they wouldn’t need to spend too much; the royal proclamation included a directive that businesses along the route north provide room and board to recruits that were headed north to join the King’s army. The royal recruiter might not make it to distant Crosspath for weeks, but it didn’t take Glori long to secure a signed and stamped scroll from the town council that included their names and a list of references.

After all the chatter he’d heard Bredan had expected that they’d be heading north with a large band of recruits. But when the day came the horde of would-be soldiers failed to materialize. The young folk he ran into offered various excuses. There were the demands of the upcoming harvest, family commitments, and a stated desire to wait for the King’s man to arrive before signing up. When he and Glori had finally headed to the rendezvous on the eastern side of town there had been only two others who were waiting to join them.

In hindsight, maybe Bredan shouldn’t have been surprised to see them either.

Kosk had looked fit to chew rocks on seeing them, but Bredan thought that Quellan had looked pleased. The cleric and monk were the Abbess’s response to the King’s proclamation. But just maybe, it occurred much later to Bredan on the road, the odd pair had had as much difficulty fitting back into their lives at the monastery as he had at the forge.

There were no gifts or elaborate farewells this time around, other than some bundles of food that Glori’s friends had prepared for them. It seemed like Bredan’s folk hero status had already faded. Or maybe it had been something else. He’d noted that the young men who had seemed so eager just days before had gone out of their way to avoid taking notice of the small company as it left Crosspath and set out on the long and lonely road north. Maybe they’d resented him because he alone of the men his age in town, the only one who hadn’t bragged of war and adventure, had actually set out on that road.

The first few days of their journey had passed swiftly and unremarkably despite the weather, which remained rather dismal. But they all had waterproof cloaks and good boots, all save for Kosk, who didn’t seem to care how dirty his feet got. For a time he even removed his sandals and walked barefoot, his thick toes squelching in the mud.

The north road was hardly well-traveled and they’d only met a handful of other travelers, but they also didn’t run into any bandits or monsters. On the first three days of travel their only potentially dangerous encounter was with a giant boar, but the creature ran off into the trees at their approach. Kosk had muttered at missing a chance to improve their rations but Bredan had been secretly happy; he’d only gotten a quick look at the beast but it had possessed tusks as long as his arm. They had passed through several settlements, but they had all been tiny villages or hamlets, nothing approaching the size of Crosspath.

A heavy trudge of boots through the mud announced Quellan’s return to the camp and brought Bredan back to the present. A moment later Glori appeared from the opposite direction and happily sidled up to the fire. Quellan handed Bredan’s iron pot, now clean, back over to him. They had so quickly fallen back into their usual patterns that it almost felt to Bredan like they were old traveling companions rather than near-strangers who had first met less than two weeks ago.

“How long do you think it will take us to get to Adelar?” Bredan asked.

Both Quellan and Glori started to respond; after a moment the half-orc shrugged and gestured for her to continue. “A week I’d say, maybe less if the sun comes out and the road dries out a bit,” she said. “We haven’t gotten very lucky with the summer storms thus far.”

“Winter storms would be a lot worse,” Kosk said.

“That is certainly true,” Glori said.

“Are there more settlements along the way?” Bredan asked.

Kosk let out a snort. “Miss your warm bed, boy?”

“There’s nothing wrong in preferring a bed to the ground, or a hot meal in a common room to trail stew,” Bredan said. “No offense meant to your cooking, Quellan.”

“None taken,” the cleric said.

“The locals out here won’t be welcoming to folk like us,” Kosk said. “Out here in the wilds, strangers mean potential danger.”

Bredan hadn’t missed the looks they’d gotten in the tiny settlements they’d passed through thus far, especially the looks sent the half-orc’s way. “We’re on the King’s business.”

Kosk snorted again. “Aye, and look how much that’s gotten us thus far.”

“It’s too bad we’re not in the eastern part of the kingdom,” Glori said. “In the Liir Valley there are towns the size of Crosspath every few days on the main road, with decent inns filling out the gaps. Between the King’s writ and my own skills, I doubt we’d have paid for a room or a meal the entire trip north.”

“Might as well wish for a magic carriage to pop out of the aether and carry us off,” Kosk said. “It’s only rough lands between us and our destination, with equally rough people living on them. Marks on paper or sweet songs won’t sway them, only hard coin and hard words.”

“As always, your words offer inspiration to us in our journey,” Glori said dryly.

“It’s only truth,” Kosk said.

“I wonder what’s happening right now, in the north,” Bredan said.

“Nothing good,” Kosk said.

“I know you see me as a smith who only plays at arms,” Bredan said. “But I do understand what war is. My uncle was a soldier.” And my father, he didn’t add.

“This won’t be like any war you know,” Kosk said. “Not against this foe.” He looked like he was going to say more, but he glanced over at Quellan and abruptly fell silent.

“Kosk is right,” Quellan said. “Goblinoids are not like the civilized races. They care only about raw power and bare self-interest. In that they are much like the orcs. I fear that the only resolution to this crisis will be the utter destruction of these invaders, with no quarter asked or given on either side.”

Quellan’s statement killed the conversation and the companions sought out their bedrolls. It was Bredan’s turn to keep first watch, and Kosk sent him a long, meaningful look before he wrapped himself in the thin drape that was his only protection from the night chill and went to sleep. Bredan hadn’t fallen asleep again on watch since that one time near the shrine, but on this night he doubted he’d have any trouble staying awake, not after the conversation they’d just had. He remembered the dead bugbears they’d encountered in the shrine. He tried to imagine one of those huge creatures alive and coming for him with an axe. The shudder that passed through him had nothing to do with the night chill.

Careful not to make any noises that might disturb the others, he took up his sword and moved off a short distance from the campfire to begin his vigil.

 

[Lazybones]

Bredan Karras, Human Male Fighter, Level 2
AC 16 (chain mail), hp 19, Str 16, Dex 11, Con 15, Int 9, Wis 14, Cha 13
Attacks Greatsword +5 melee (2d6+3 damage), Light Crossbow +2 ranged (1d8 damage)
Background: Folk Hero
Skills: Animal Handling +4, Athletics +5, Perception +4, Survival +4
Special Abilities: Fighting Style: Great Weapon Fighting, Second Wind, Action Surge
Equipment: Chain mail, greatsword, light crossbow and 20 bolts, light hammer

Glorianna (Glori) Leliades, Half-Elf Female Bard, Level 2
AC 15 (leather armor), hp 17, Str 10, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 8, Cha 16
Attacks Shortbow +5 ranged (1d6+3 damage), Dagger +5 melee (1d4+3 damage)
Background: Entertainer
Skills: Acrobatics +5, Deception +5, Sleight of Hand +5, History +3, Investigation +3, Performance +5, Persuasion +5
SA Darkvision, Bardic Inspiration, Jack of All Trades, Song of Rest (d6)
Spells (DC 13, 3 1st level slots/day): 0/Dancing Lights, 0/Minor Illusion, 1/Animal Friendship, 1/Cure Wounds, 1/Heroism, 1/Sleep, 1/Thunderwave
Equipment: “Magic” Lyre, leather armor, shortbow and 20 arrows, dagger, brooch of antivenom (3 charges)

Kosk Stonefist, Hill Dwarf Male Monk, Level 2
AC 13 (no armor), hp 21, Str 15, Dex 12, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8
Attacks Quarterstaff +4 melee (1d6+2) and Martial Arts +4 melee (1d4+2), or darts +3 ranged (1d4+1 damage)
Background: Criminal
Skills: Athletics +4, Deception +1, Insight +4, Stealth +3
SA: Dwarven Toughness, +10 movement, 2 Ki points (flurry of blows, patient defense, or step of the wind)
Equipment: quarterstaff, 10 darts

Quellan Emberlane, Half-Orc Male Cleric, Level 2
AC 15 (scale mail, shield), hp 17, Str 16, Dex 8, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 10
Attacks Mace +5 melee (1d6+3 damage)
Background: Acolyte
Skills: Arcana +3, Insight +4, Intimidation +2, History +5, Medicine +4, Persuasion +2, Religion +5
SA Darkvision, Relentless Endurance, Savage Attacks, Knowledge Domain, Channel Divinity (1/rest), Knowledge of the Ages (gain proficiency in a tool or skill for 10 minutes)
Spells (DC 12, 3 1st level slots/day): 0/Light, 0/Spare the Dying, 0/Thaumaturgy, 1/Cure Wounds, 1/Detect Evil and Good, 1/Guiding Bolt, 1/Purify Food and Drink, 1/Shield of Faith, 1/Command, 1/Identify
Equipment: Scale Mail, Mace, Shield

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 30

Northpine didn’t look like much at first glance.

They smelled the village before they saw it, the familiar tang of wood smoke underlaid with the more tantalizing smells of cooking. Those smells added a spring to tired legs at the prospect of a lunch that didn’t come from their preserved rations.

The road took them around a gentle curve that navigated between two lightly forested hills, and then the village was spread out in front of them. It wasn’t very large, maybe two dozen assorted wooden structures scattered among a patchwork of fields full of ripe crops and pastures where animals cropped the rich summer grass. There was no wall around the village, but the companions could see the subtle signs of the frontier in the narrow windows and reinforced doors on the houses. Most of the roofs were thatch, though several larger structures in the center of the settlement had shingle roofs and actual glass in the windows, suggesting at least a general prosperity.

There was a crowd that had to represent a considerable percentage of the village’s population gathered in front of one of those buildings. A few men standing on its raised porch were addressing the crowd. The adventurers were too far away to hear what was being said, though they could feel the general sense of disquiet in the scene.

“I wonder what’s going on down there?” Bredan asked.

“None of our business,” Kosk said.

“Are you guys from the Baron?”

They all turned to the side of the road, where a human boy they somehow hadn’t noticed emerged from the shade of a tall oak tree. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, and was dressed in simple clothes that bore the usual allotment of stains and rips typical for one his age.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” Kosk growled. His growl deepened when Glori reached out and smacked him on the arm.

“We’re not with the local baron,” she told the boy. “We’re not even sure who the local baron is, actually. We’re headed north to answer the summons from the King.”

The boy looked disappointed. “Yeah, they said it would be at least a week, but I thought maybe you might be sent to help.”

“What’s happening here?” Quellan asked. “Why do you need help?”

If the boy was fazed by the half-orc’s appearance he didn’t show it as he hurried forward to join them. “It’s Caric,” he said. “He’s gone missing.”

“Not our business,” Kosk muttered, but this time the comment was barely audible.

“Who’s Caric?” Glori asked. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“He’s just a kid,” the boy said.

“As opposed to…” Bredan said, but Glori silenced him with a look. “I’m Glori, and this is Bredan, Quellan, and Kosk. What’s your name?”

“I’m Indel.”

“And how long has Caric been missing?”

“A couple of days. They sent word to the Baron for help, but they said it would be a week until we heard anything back, since he’s way over in Eastfork.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Quellan asked.

“The local council. Come on, I can show you.”

It seemed obvious where they were going, but they let the boy lead them. Glori asked him a few more questions about the missing child, but Indel wasn’t able to add much more information. Caric and his mother lived together on the outskirts of the village, and there hadn’t been any signs of a violent abduction or an unfortunate run-in with some passing predator. Apparently such encounters were not unheard of, which explained the local architecture.

Their arrival created a bit of a stir. There were almost a hundred people gathered in the village center, and their looks of uncertainty and worry were not eased by the arrival of the four armed strangers. Indel walked with them, no doubt soaking up the adulation of his peers for being associated with such notable visitors, until a woman who was obviously his mother rushed forward from the crowd and pulled him away.

The villagers drew back as the adventurers approached, leaving an open route to the men waiting on the porch of what appeared to be the local inn. The other structures around the village core were typical and included a smithy, a general store, a small stone temple that bore the sun sigil of Sorevas, and a handful of houses. It looked as though almost everyone in the village was present here.

Many of the whispers that went through the crowd were accompanied by alarmed glances at Quellan in particular, but the half-orc pretended not to notice and led them straight toward the waiting notables. The local leaders were all humans, though there was a dwarf clad in the familiar attire of a smith in the forefront of the crowd who watched their approach with interest. Another man in a robe who had to be the local priest recognized Quellan’s sigil and whispered something to his neighbor, a young man in rich clothes who wore several silver rings on his fingers.

One of the leaders, a man in his fifties who wore a sword on his hip, came down the porch steps to meet them. “I’m Erron Laddrick, the local constable,” he said. “Who might you be?”

“My name is Quellan Emberlane,” the cleric said. “My companions and I are headed north in response to the King’s call.”

Laddrick nodded; obviously news of the proclamation had reached this village. “So you’re just passing through?”

Quellan looked at each of his companions in turn. Kosk looked sour but resigned, Bredan uncertain. But Glori showed no doubt whatsoever as she stepped forward and said, “Actually, we’re here to help.”