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Story Hour
In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
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<blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 1721418" data-attributes="member: 22792"><p><strong>Chapter 3</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The sun pierced the few remaining storm clouds on the third of Gal. Heavenly rays caressed the rain covered leaves, soggy ground, and threatened to disperse the thick fog that blanketed the forest. Sunlight glittered off of every bush, every murky puddle in the earth. Already, the temperature had begun to dry the earth. And a legion of sunlight followed the quickly climbing temperature to assure no raindrop was left behind.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Funeris stood not far from the foundation of the cottage, watching the ascent of the golden chariot. His mind drifted to his childhood, not that he had had a stupendous young life. Rather, his life had not been long. And he did not have much to reminisce about. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat"><em>The god we honor is Morduk. Every day we must give penance to our god. Our</em></span></span></span></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">penance is demonstrated in our manner, in our occupation, in our own </span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">personalities. We must be fair, but that does not mean to be weak. We must</span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">live by our codes. Every day of our lives, we will fight for our god. We will fight</span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">for his will to be done.</span></span></span></em></p><p></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">But, what is his will father? </span></span></span></em></p><p></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">His will, child, is equality and judgment. His will is the balance of the universe.</span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">I enforce the laws of man and at the same time pay heed to the laws of Morduk.</span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Some day, you too will bear the sword and responsibility of our family. Come now, son. It is time to start your training.</span></span></span></em></p><p></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">But the sun has only just begun to rise.</span></span></span></em></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat"><em>Yes, the golden chariot is beginning to cross the sky. That means it is time for us to start training.</em></span></span></span></p><p></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Why do you call it that father?</span></span></span></em></p><p></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Such an inquisitive child, just like your mother. Once and maybe even now, people believed that the sun itself was a god. They believed he rode a chariot across the sky. But this is not of much concern to us. Morduk is the god of death, justice, penance and anguish. And he is our god.</span></span></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></em></p><p><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></em></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Funeris’ memories drifted back to the present as Nimrodel brushed against his shoulder. He turned to face the elf-woman. <em>She is quite a warrior,</em> he thought. He hadn’t heard her approach although that could be accounted to her natural grace or his reminiscing. She had joined him on his watch and although no words had passed between them he felt closer to her now. Whilst he had stood on the ground watching the slowly fading darkness, she had chosen to perch on the remaining “roof” of the cottage. She silently peered into the distance. <em>Probably daring anything to come near us,</em> he believed.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“It is time to wake them, Fune.”</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Aye. We should head on our way soon. Mayhaps after the fog passes.” Funeris moved toward the cottage to awaken the other travelers.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***********************************************************************</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Within an hour’s time, the warmth of Gal’s sun obliterated the last remnants of fog from the earth. The raindrops were also long gone. The travelers sat around a new yet small fire again eating silently. Breakfast consisted of small game and flora that Motega and Calyx had been kind enough to gather.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“It should be a better day for travel,” Ember stated, as he glanced around the roof of the structure and into the sky.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“At least for the morning hours,” Motega responded. ”Around midday though, the heat of Gal will set upon us. I hope to make it to Llyndofare by then.”</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“So, are we to expect an end to the dismal weather then?” Funeris chimed.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Yes. I do believe that will be the last respite from the heat we’ll have for at least several days.” Motega returned to finishing his morning squirrel. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“What do we know of this Llyndofare castle?” Nim questioned.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Well,” Fitz paused to swallow. “I do believe it was once a robust fortress used in the defense of these lands.” He gestured with a wide arc of his hand to the forest. “That’s if my knowledge serves me correctly. It’s rumored that it was haunted or bad luck. At any rate, it was abandoned nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. No one has used it since.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“I wonder if the scorpiots were the ghosts,” Magnus though aloud.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“It is possible,” began Fitz. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Well,” Motega interrupted, “If we’re to find out today, we should leave.” He squelched the fire with his boots and grabbed his gear.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“I’d wonder more about what those men we’re doing in the castle,” murmured Funeris before he grabbed his own gear. The group headed back toward the old mule trail.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">****</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Halfway through the morn, the adventurers reached the top of a hill that climbed above the tree line. No more than a league away, Llyndofare climbed out of the earth. The castle perched upon a small bluff, overlooking two rivers. Its spires soared upward into the sky, dwarfing the trees. The tree line ended perhaps a half-mile before the castle. It was there that the old mule path climbed a carved ledge to Llyndofare’s front gates. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Without further delay, the travelers dove back down the path and into the forest.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">At the end of the wood, Motega again stooped to the ground to inspect the tracks. “The rain washed away most of the tracks. Here where there are tracks, I don’t see any scorpiot’s trail anyway. Just the boot marks of men.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“It looks deserted,” Nimrodel claimed. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“It is quiet. But if there were men there and they left,” Motega paused to add weight to his statement, “then why is the door closed?”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“I don’t like the lack of cover,” Raven murmured. “If we approach it directly and it is inhabited, they’ll see us coming.” </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“With any luck, we’ll see them coming.” Nimrodel began the ascent to the castle.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">They stopped their approach at the edge of a drawbridge. The bridge stretched fifty feet across an ancient mote. Steep jagged sides and a thirty-foot drop dwarfed the miniscule amount of festered, confined water.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega followed the normal routine and stooped to inspect the tracks. “Still just human footprints. I think those men were lying.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega was shoved to the ground, “Archer in the left tower!” Funeris screamed as he shielded Motega’s body. An arrow lodged in the earth next to his body. Ember, Nimrodel, and Motega, once he was upright, charged the front gate.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">A grinding sound issued from behind the castle walls. A winch began to raise the portcullis and the old oak doors behind were flung open. Three swordsmen awaited the approach.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Meanwhile, an archer had appeared in the right gate tower. His arrows quickly forced the remainder of the group toward the front gate. While he ran, Fitz prayed out loud. “Ceria, please bless my comrades so that they may not fall in this battle. Bless them with your strength to do what must be done.” A faint white glow enveloped the party and then just as rapidly faded.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Once the portcullis was open, Ember ran his javelin into a swordsman at the same moment Nimrodel’s axe crashed into the swordsman’s arm. He dropped his sword and stumbled back; the other two swordsmen stepping into the fray. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The leftmost swordsman jabbed the blade into Nim’s side. She yelped in pain that instantly turned to rage in her eyes. Her great axe again sliced the air leaving a thin scrape through the man’s armor. Ember all the while blocked and parried with the other brute. Two more filthy men rushed to the aid of their compatriots.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Funeris stepped into the brawl at this point. His great sword easily ran one of the new soldiers through. It left an angry wound that would not scream for more, blood spilt across the stone flooring. Fune pivoted then dodged a deadly strike before he doubled up with Nimrodel on her swordsman.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The remnants of the group had made it safely within Llyndofare’s archway. Longing for the death of the travelers, enemy arrows shattered on the bridge. And despite the lack of targets, the archers did not leave their posts.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Calyx unleashed a feral howl. A spine-tingling wolf howl that made everyone, friend and foe alike, cringe. But within an instant, the thieves of Llyndofare realized why she had howled. A gentle yet fierce sound of padded feet traversed the drawbridge as a wolf leapt into the battle and forced the men back.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Ember seized the moment of opportunity to launch a burst of fire from his bare hands. It landed square in the chest of one of the thieves. He dropped instantly, third degree burns bubbled and exploded on his exposed flesh. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">But Ember wasn’t the only to seize the moment. Magnus, who had been cowering behind Nim and Fune, popped his head up from behind his human shields. A split second and one of his daggers had split the sternum of the other warrior. In that same split second, he had resumed his crouched position. Nimrodel then opened the thief’s torso, permitting his entrails to taste her victory.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The archer from the leftmost tower loosed an arrow. It grazed Nimrodel’s cheek causing her to pivot, scream, and charge. She shook uncontrollably, which made it difficult for both Raven and Funeris to keep up with her. The three of them pinned the archer to a wall and shared turns striking blows. Ultimately, they sent him to meet his ancestors.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Fitz and Motega split from the group and charged up the staircase for the right tower. They stopped a possible ambush from the remaining archer. Fitz and Motega prevented the ambush indefinitely.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">A large double door at the rear of the courtyard opened. Two more archers and a swordsman exited the adjoining room. Funeris and Nimrodel sprinted toward the enemy. Somehow, Magnus was already there. He leapt toward them and screamed a word, both palms out toward the enemy. The syllable was indecipherable due to the acoustics of the castle walls but it held an arcane sound.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Two bursts of bright colored light flashed from his hands, dropping the two archers. Magnus landed and rolled away from the swordsman that had withstood his assault.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">An arrow from Funeris’ short bow shot wide drawing the attention of the enemy. Another ball of flame from Ember did not miss its target. But the warrior-thief stood up after it laid him on his back. Blisters erupted all along his flesh but he still reached for his weapon. Before he grabbed it, a shaft pierced his heart. Motega had fired from the tower. Stunned, he could do nothing but gargle as Nimrodel’s axe shredded his abdomen.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Once Motega had descended from the tower, he demanded, “What did you do to those two!?”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“I just stunned them,” mumbled Magnus as he lowered his eyes to the ground.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Tie them up then.” Motega tossed Magnus a rope. “And make sure they don’t get loose.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">************************************************************************</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The two bound men had awoken to a sloppy noise. The sound was of something being pressed into the mud. They struggled for a moment before deciding the bonds were tied too well. It was then that they noticed Motega.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega was hunched over the body of one of the bandit leaders, a curiously curved but razor-sharp blade busily working its way through the cadaver's ribs. Bloody to the elbows, the ranger concentrated on his task as he sought the most vital organ and began removing it from the gory cavity. Nimrodel's axe strike had made his job slightly easier, hacking many of the bones apart and exposing much of the upper torso's interior. Motega dressed the bandit’s body like any hunter would dress a deer.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"Did you hate him?" The elf's voice seems to float through the still air inside the ruined castle. Her bare feet carried her across the bloody flagstones without pause until she arrived nearby, squatting down somewhat to observe Motega's actions.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"No." The Rornman's answer was short, sweet, and to the point. Meanwhile, the red, pulpy meat of the bandit's heart began to emerge clutched in his slick fingers.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Nimrodel's head tilted slightly to the left, considering. "Did you admire him, then?"</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega chuckled. "Seeing as how quickly he fell, no. Not particularly."</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"Why then the heart?" The elf inquired, dispassionately watching as the ranger prepared his meal.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"Because I like it," he replied. "It has a pleasing texture and taste. And I chose him much like you would choose the ripest fruit from a vine, no other reason."</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"Hmmm." Nimrodel gave her head a toss, her white hair flung behind her neck. Several seconds passed as Motega began to eat while the other motley adventurers scoured the keep and the bodies within for clues and loot.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"I hated him." Once again, the elf's voice seems almost to emerge from nowhere, spoken by no one until it's sudden appearance lends no doubt to it's existence.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega raised an eyebrow.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"I always hate." Nimrodel explained slowly. "When I am in the red place, I hate."</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The ranger nodded. "I have noticed that you fight with emotion. For myself, I do not let emotions touch me in battle."</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Slender fingers pointed out Motega's bow." Your tools require a steady hand. "Nimrodel agreed. "Mine, however, are fueled by hate." Her hand moved to brush the handle of the great axe strung across her back.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">"Your emotions guide you in battle. Today, I believe we're thankful for that." Motega glanced around at the number of bodies lying upon the courtyard, all of whom wore the tattered clothing of the bandits.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Nimrodel nodded. "I think," she began and then paused. "That control is good. I would like...to have more control. Mayhaps one day you can teach me about such."</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">With that, she stood and walked toward the two bound bandits.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega watched the elf until she was out of sight. "What a curious creature...never have I seen an elf so...troubled," He thought to himself. Then, the bandit's liver came fee of the peritoneum lining of the body cavity and Motega forgot all about elven self-control.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: wheat"><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">(Translator’s note: the preceding passage was crafted by Nimrodel’s player and was only </span></span></em><em><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">slightly edited by the translator.) </span></span></em></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Nimrodel crouched near the living bandits. She threw a glance toward Motega and questioned, “Which organs did you want from these two?” The men burst into sobs and wails. Tears carved clean trails across their filthy faces as they pleaded for life.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Motega walked over to Nimrodel while cleaning his sharp blade. “Let me instruct you on the best way. It should be good practice for skinning animals.” He extended his arm and blade to Nimrodel. She took the blade and began dragging it not so gently across the bandits’ poor leather armor. Both broke into tears again; as well as curses. </span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Wasting only a few mere moments, one of the men offered to tell the party everything they knew in exchange for his life. The other bandit chimed in that he would make sure the first bandit would not lie, in exchange for his own life. Nimrodel was satisfied and handed the blade back to Motega.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">But before the interrogation could begin, Raven returned from the other tower. And the adventurers decided to camp in the fortified tower for the night.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Are we sure they’re to be trusted?” Funeris asked Nimrodel. He had volunteered to serve the first shift of watch because of lack of injuries. Nimrodel joined him and they were quietly debating the information whilst everyone else rested.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“We don’t have much choice. And they seem to be truthful. Fear can be powerful that way. Anyway, their information seemed to coincide with Raven’s observations.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“They’re ignoble thieves. And I still do not trust them.” Funeris glanced at his great sword – his father’s great sword – and struggled to wipe the dirt, blood, and grime from the blade.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Good. That means tomorrow when we approach the remaining bandits, you will be prepared.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Funeris did not look up or respond as he switched to sharpening the sword.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">All of the party except Raven stood outside of two large wooden doors that barred entry into Llyndofare’s ancient barracks. Raven had meanwhile stolen away a passage along the second floor to the uppermost part of the garrison. It was here that the prisoners had claimed was a back entry into the soldiers’ quarters. If the prisoners had told no lies, only two more bandits waited for the travelers. And one of the bandits was the leader.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">Raven removed his lock-pick set from his bags and prepared to pick his door. The lock was a simple three-pin lock. <em>It would pose no threat</em>, he thought. He silently waited for the signal to begin.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Ready?” Nimrodel glanced at Funeris.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“As ready as I need to be.” They both brought their weapons down against the old wooden doors. In two powerful strikes, the doors splintered and fell. A half-orc with a great axe stepped into the doorway and snarled.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">The great axe shredded through Nimrodel’s armor, leaving a deep, wicked, crimson gash in its wake. She stumbled back but managed to stay upright until an arrow embedded between her breasts.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Oh, sh*t!” Funeris yelled as Nimrodel collapsed to the floor. And then he charged into the room.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">***</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Fitz said. His hand rested on Nimrodel’s brow. She jerked upright but his hand held her down. “Ceria says it wasn’t your time to go yet. And now,” he smiled, “she says you need to rest for a moment.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“What happened?” Nim croaked.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Teamwork,” He replied with a grin. “Albeit slightly impulsive teamwork. Fune rushed into the room once you were unconscious. He managed to incapacitate the archer and flank the half-orc while the rest of us took turns with the beast. Eventually, Magnus stunned it and Funeris removed its head.”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“And what of the archer?” She sipped some water from her water-skin.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Well, he’s now bound with the other two prisoners. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll return to Marchford.” Nimrodel stood up, shakily at first. After a few moments, the wobbliness passed and her strength returned.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Who’s that?” Nim pointed toward an emaciated man in tattered rags.</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“That’s Obrick Humblefoot. He’s a merchant the bandits had imprisoned. He offered to pay us for an escort back to civilization.” Fitz paused to hand Nim her axe. “Are you ready?”</span></span></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="color: wheat">“Let’s go.” She turned and made sure she was the first across the bridge and into the forest.</span></span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Funeris, post: 1721418, member: 22792"] [b]Chapter 3[/b] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The sun pierced the few remaining storm clouds on the third of Gal. Heavenly rays caressed the rain covered leaves, soggy ground, and threatened to disperse the thick fog that blanketed the forest. Sunlight glittered off of every bush, every murky puddle in the earth. Already, the temperature had begun to dry the earth. And a legion of sunlight followed the quickly climbing temperature to assure no raindrop was left behind.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Funeris stood not far from the foundation of the cottage, watching the ascent of the golden chariot. His mind drifted to his childhood, not that he had had a stupendous young life. Rather, his life had not been long. And he did not have much to reminisce about. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat][i]The god we honor is Morduk. Every day we must give penance to our god. Our[/i][/color][/size][/font] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]penance is demonstrated in our manner, in our occupation, in our own [/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]personalities. We must be fair, but that does not mean to be weak. We must[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]live by our codes. Every day of our lives, we will fight for our god. We will fight[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]for his will to be done.[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]But, what is his will father? [/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]His will, child, is equality and judgment. His will is the balance of the universe.[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]I enforce the laws of man and at the same time pay heed to the laws of Morduk.[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Some day, you too will bear the sword and responsibility of our family. Come now, son. It is time to start your training.[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]But the sun has only just begun to rise.[/color][/size][/font][/i] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat][i]Yes, the golden chariot is beginning to cross the sky. That means it is time for us to start training.[/i][/color][/size][/font] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Why do you call it that father?[/color][/size][/font][/i] [i][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Such an inquisitive child, just like your mother. Once and maybe even now, people believed that the sun itself was a god. They believed he rode a chariot across the sky. But this is not of much concern to us. Morduk is the god of death, justice, penance and anguish. And he is our god.[/color][/size] [/font][/i] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Funeris’ memories drifted back to the present as Nimrodel brushed against his shoulder. He turned to face the elf-woman. [i]She is quite a warrior,[/i] he thought. He hadn’t heard her approach although that could be accounted to her natural grace or his reminiscing. She had joined him on his watch and although no words had passed between them he felt closer to her now. Whilst he had stood on the ground watching the slowly fading darkness, she had chosen to perch on the remaining “roof” of the cottage. She silently peered into the distance. [i]Probably daring anything to come near us,[/i] he believed.[/color][/size] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“It is time to wake them, Fune.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Aye. We should head on our way soon. Mayhaps after the fog passes.” Funeris moved toward the cottage to awaken the other travelers.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***********************************************************************[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Within an hour’s time, the warmth of Gal’s sun obliterated the last remnants of fog from the earth. The raindrops were also long gone. The travelers sat around a new yet small fire again eating silently. Breakfast consisted of small game and flora that Motega and Calyx had been kind enough to gather.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“It should be a better day for travel,” Ember stated, as he glanced around the roof of the structure and into the sky.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“At least for the morning hours,” Motega responded. ”Around midday though, the heat of Gal will set upon us. I hope to make it to Llyndofare by then.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“So, are we to expect an end to the dismal weather then?” Funeris chimed.[/color][/size][/font] [/font][font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Yes. I do believe that will be the last respite from the heat we’ll have for at least several days.” Motega returned to finishing his morning squirrel. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“What do we know of this Llyndofare castle?” Nim questioned.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Well,” Fitz paused to swallow. “I do believe it was once a robust fortress used in the defense of these lands.” He gestured with a wide arc of his hand to the forest. “That’s if my knowledge serves me correctly. It’s rumored that it was haunted or bad luck. At any rate, it was abandoned nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. No one has used it since.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“I wonder if the scorpiots were the ghosts,” Magnus though aloud.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“It is possible,” began Fitz. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Well,” Motega interrupted, “If we’re to find out today, we should leave.” He squelched the fire with his boots and grabbed his gear.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“I’d wonder more about what those men we’re doing in the castle,” murmured Funeris before he grabbed his own gear. The group headed back toward the old mule trail.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]****[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Halfway through the morn, the adventurers reached the top of a hill that climbed above the tree line. No more than a league away, Llyndofare climbed out of the earth. The castle perched upon a small bluff, overlooking two rivers. Its spires soared upward into the sky, dwarfing the trees. The tree line ended perhaps a half-mile before the castle. It was there that the old mule path climbed a carved ledge to Llyndofare’s front gates. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Without further delay, the travelers dove back down the path and into the forest.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]At the end of the wood, Motega again stooped to the ground to inspect the tracks. “The rain washed away most of the tracks. Here where there are tracks, I don’t see any scorpiot’s trail anyway. Just the boot marks of men.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“It looks deserted,” Nimrodel claimed. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“It is quiet. But if there were men there and they left,” Motega paused to add weight to his statement, “then why is the door closed?”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“I don’t like the lack of cover,” Raven murmured. “If we approach it directly and it is inhabited, they’ll see us coming.” [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“With any luck, we’ll see them coming.” Nimrodel began the ascent to the castle.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]They stopped their approach at the edge of a drawbridge. The bridge stretched fifty feet across an ancient mote. Steep jagged sides and a thirty-foot drop dwarfed the miniscule amount of festered, confined water.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega followed the normal routine and stooped to inspect the tracks. “Still just human footprints. I think those men were lying.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega was shoved to the ground, “Archer in the left tower!” Funeris screamed as he shielded Motega’s body. An arrow lodged in the earth next to his body. Ember, Nimrodel, and Motega, once he was upright, charged the front gate.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]A grinding sound issued from behind the castle walls. A winch began to raise the portcullis and the old oak doors behind were flung open. Three swordsmen awaited the approach.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Meanwhile, an archer had appeared in the right gate tower. His arrows quickly forced the remainder of the group toward the front gate. While he ran, Fitz prayed out loud. “Ceria, please bless my comrades so that they may not fall in this battle. Bless them with your strength to do what must be done.” A faint white glow enveloped the party and then just as rapidly faded.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Once the portcullis was open, Ember ran his javelin into a swordsman at the same moment Nimrodel’s axe crashed into the swordsman’s arm. He dropped his sword and stumbled back; the other two swordsmen stepping into the fray. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The leftmost swordsman jabbed the blade into Nim’s side. She yelped in pain that instantly turned to rage in her eyes. Her great axe again sliced the air leaving a thin scrape through the man’s armor. Ember all the while blocked and parried with the other brute. Two more filthy men rushed to the aid of their compatriots.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Funeris stepped into the brawl at this point. His great sword easily ran one of the new soldiers through. It left an angry wound that would not scream for more, blood spilt across the stone flooring. Fune pivoted then dodged a deadly strike before he doubled up with Nimrodel on her swordsman.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The remnants of the group had made it safely within Llyndofare’s archway. Longing for the death of the travelers, enemy arrows shattered on the bridge. And despite the lack of targets, the archers did not leave their posts.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Calyx unleashed a feral howl. A spine-tingling wolf howl that made everyone, friend and foe alike, cringe. But within an instant, the thieves of Llyndofare realized why she had howled. A gentle yet fierce sound of padded feet traversed the drawbridge as a wolf leapt into the battle and forced the men back.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Ember seized the moment of opportunity to launch a burst of fire from his bare hands. It landed square in the chest of one of the thieves. He dropped instantly, third degree burns bubbled and exploded on his exposed flesh. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]But Ember wasn’t the only to seize the moment. Magnus, who had been cowering behind Nim and Fune, popped his head up from behind his human shields. A split second and one of his daggers had split the sternum of the other warrior. In that same split second, he had resumed his crouched position. Nimrodel then opened the thief’s torso, permitting his entrails to taste her victory.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The archer from the leftmost tower loosed an arrow. It grazed Nimrodel’s cheek causing her to pivot, scream, and charge. She shook uncontrollably, which made it difficult for both Raven and Funeris to keep up with her. The three of them pinned the archer to a wall and shared turns striking blows. Ultimately, they sent him to meet his ancestors.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Fitz and Motega split from the group and charged up the staircase for the right tower. They stopped a possible ambush from the remaining archer. Fitz and Motega prevented the ambush indefinitely.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]A large double door at the rear of the courtyard opened. Two more archers and a swordsman exited the adjoining room. Funeris and Nimrodel sprinted toward the enemy. Somehow, Magnus was already there. He leapt toward them and screamed a word, both palms out toward the enemy. The syllable was indecipherable due to the acoustics of the castle walls but it held an arcane sound.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Two bursts of bright colored light flashed from his hands, dropping the two archers. Magnus landed and rolled away from the swordsman that had withstood his assault.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]An arrow from Funeris’ short bow shot wide drawing the attention of the enemy. Another ball of flame from Ember did not miss its target. But the warrior-thief stood up after it laid him on his back. Blisters erupted all along his flesh but he still reached for his weapon. Before he grabbed it, a shaft pierced his heart. Motega had fired from the tower. Stunned, he could do nothing but gargle as Nimrodel’s axe shredded his abdomen.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Once Motega had descended from the tower, he demanded, “What did you do to those two!?”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“I just stunned them,” mumbled Magnus as he lowered his eyes to the ground.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Tie them up then.” Motega tossed Magnus a rope. “And make sure they don’t get loose.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]************************************************************************[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The two bound men had awoken to a sloppy noise. The sound was of something being pressed into the mud. They struggled for a moment before deciding the bonds were tied too well. It was then that they noticed Motega.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega was hunched over the body of one of the bandit leaders, a curiously curved but razor-sharp blade busily working its way through the cadaver's ribs. Bloody to the elbows, the ranger concentrated on his task as he sought the most vital organ and began removing it from the gory cavity. Nimrodel's axe strike had made his job slightly easier, hacking many of the bones apart and exposing much of the upper torso's interior. Motega dressed the bandit’s body like any hunter would dress a deer.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"Did you hate him?" The elf's voice seems to float through the still air inside the ruined castle. Her bare feet carried her across the bloody flagstones without pause until she arrived nearby, squatting down somewhat to observe Motega's actions.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"No." The Rornman's answer was short, sweet, and to the point. Meanwhile, the red, pulpy meat of the bandit's heart began to emerge clutched in his slick fingers.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Nimrodel's head tilted slightly to the left, considering. "Did you admire him, then?"[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega chuckled. "Seeing as how quickly he fell, no. Not particularly."[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"Why then the heart?" The elf inquired, dispassionately watching as the ranger prepared his meal.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"Because I like it," he replied. "It has a pleasing texture and taste. And I chose him much like you would choose the ripest fruit from a vine, no other reason."[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"Hmmm." Nimrodel gave her head a toss, her white hair flung behind her neck. Several seconds passed as Motega began to eat while the other motley adventurers scoured the keep and the bodies within for clues and loot.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"I hated him." Once again, the elf's voice seems almost to emerge from nowhere, spoken by no one until it's sudden appearance lends no doubt to it's existence.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega raised an eyebrow.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"I always hate." Nimrodel explained slowly. "When I am in the red place, I hate."[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The ranger nodded. "I have noticed that you fight with emotion. For myself, I do not let emotions touch me in battle."[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Slender fingers pointed out Motega's bow." Your tools require a steady hand. "Nimrodel agreed. "Mine, however, are fueled by hate." Her hand moved to brush the handle of the great axe strung across her back.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]"Your emotions guide you in battle. Today, I believe we're thankful for that." Motega glanced around at the number of bodies lying upon the courtyard, all of whom wore the tattered clothing of the bandits.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Nimrodel nodded. "I think," she began and then paused. "That control is good. I would like...to have more control. Mayhaps one day you can teach me about such."[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]With that, she stood and walked toward the two bound bandits.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega watched the elf until she was out of sight. "What a curious creature...never have I seen an elf so...troubled," He thought to himself. Then, the bandit's liver came fee of the peritoneum lining of the body cavity and Motega forgot all about elven self-control.[/color][/size][/font] [color=wheat][i][font=Times New Roman][size=3](Translator’s note: the preceding passage was crafted by Nimrodel’s player and was only [/size][/font][/i][i][font=Times New Roman][size=3]slightly edited by the translator.) [/size][/font][/i][/color] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Nimrodel crouched near the living bandits. She threw a glance toward Motega and questioned, “Which organs did you want from these two?” The men burst into sobs and wails. Tears carved clean trails across their filthy faces as they pleaded for life.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Motega walked over to Nimrodel while cleaning his sharp blade. “Let me instruct you on the best way. It should be good practice for skinning animals.” He extended his arm and blade to Nimrodel. She took the blade and began dragging it not so gently across the bandits’ poor leather armor. Both broke into tears again; as well as curses. [/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Wasting only a few mere moments, one of the men offered to tell the party everything they knew in exchange for his life. The other bandit chimed in that he would make sure the first bandit would not lie, in exchange for his own life. Nimrodel was satisfied and handed the blade back to Motega.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]But before the interrogation could begin, Raven returned from the other tower. And the adventurers decided to camp in the fortified tower for the night.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Are we sure they’re to be trusted?” Funeris asked Nimrodel. He had volunteered to serve the first shift of watch because of lack of injuries. Nimrodel joined him and they were quietly debating the information whilst everyone else rested.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“We don’t have much choice. And they seem to be truthful. Fear can be powerful that way. Anyway, their information seemed to coincide with Raven’s observations.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“They’re ignoble thieves. And I still do not trust them.” Funeris glanced at his great sword – his father’s great sword – and struggled to wipe the dirt, blood, and grime from the blade.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Good. That means tomorrow when we approach the remaining bandits, you will be prepared.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Funeris did not look up or respond as he switched to sharpening the sword.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]All of the party except Raven stood outside of two large wooden doors that barred entry into Llyndofare’s ancient barracks. Raven had meanwhile stolen away a passage along the second floor to the uppermost part of the garrison. It was here that the prisoners had claimed was a back entry into the soldiers’ quarters. If the prisoners had told no lies, only two more bandits waited for the travelers. And one of the bandits was the leader.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]Raven removed his lock-pick set from his bags and prepared to pick his door. The lock was a simple three-pin lock. [i]It would pose no threat[/i], he thought. He silently waited for the signal to begin.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Ready?” Nimrodel glanced at Funeris.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“As ready as I need to be.” They both brought their weapons down against the old wooden doors. In two powerful strikes, the doors splintered and fell. A half-orc with a great axe stepped into the doorway and snarled.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]The great axe shredded through Nimrodel’s armor, leaving a deep, wicked, crimson gash in its wake. She stumbled back but managed to stay upright until an arrow embedded between her breasts.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Oh, sh*t!” Funeris yelled as Nimrodel collapsed to the floor. And then he charged into the room.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]***[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Fitz said. His hand rested on Nimrodel’s brow. She jerked upright but his hand held her down. “Ceria says it wasn’t your time to go yet. And now,” he smiled, “she says you need to rest for a moment.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“What happened?” Nim croaked.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Teamwork,” He replied with a grin. “Albeit slightly impulsive teamwork. Fune rushed into the room once you were unconscious. He managed to incapacitate the archer and flank the half-orc while the rest of us took turns with the beast. Eventually, Magnus stunned it and Funeris removed its head.”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“And what of the archer?” She sipped some water from her water-skin.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Well, he’s now bound with the other two prisoners. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll return to Marchford.” Nimrodel stood up, shakily at first. After a few moments, the wobbliness passed and her strength returned.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Who’s that?” Nim pointed toward an emaciated man in tattered rags.[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“That’s Obrick Humblefoot. He’s a merchant the bandits had imprisoned. He offered to pay us for an escort back to civilization.” Fitz paused to hand Nim her axe. “Are you ready?”[/color][/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3][color=wheat]“Let’s go.” She turned and made sure she was the first across the bridge and into the forest.[/color][/size][/font] [/QUOTE]
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In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
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