Chapter 1
Garet was the last of Jarmaath’s guests to arrive. When he walked into the Lord Mayor’s office, he noted the four figures within. Jarmaath, of course, sat in his high-backed chair behind his desk, a rolled parchment spread out in front of him. Standing behind him to his right was a human male that Garet did not recognize, a look of exhaustion and worry across his face. The man did not wear any form of armor or carry any weapon, but carried himself with the discipline that indicated a military background. Also, hovering in the corner of the room stood Jarmaath’s assistant, the raptoran cleric Durgarl. In front of the desk set two simple wooden chairs. The first chair set empty, and Garet assumed that it had been placed there for him. In the second chair set a massive humanoid, a goliath, decked out in full battle gear, a massive trident and shield resting on his lap. Garet had see the giant around town serving as one of Eldremma Axenhaft’s swords-for-hire, but he had not ever been formally introduced.
“Good, we are all here,” the Lord Mayor started. Motioning towards the human stranger, Jarmaath continued, “This is Fendric, high mage of the Drellin’s Ferry militia. It seems that our allies to the west are having a bit of trouble with some goblin raiders. The nasty little buggers have been sacking farms, marauding caravans, and generally making themselves to be more of a nuisance than we have become accustomed. Realizing that they don’t have the strength of arms to handle the situation, the Town Council of Drellin’s Ferry has come to us for help.”
The stranger stepped forward. “Your Lord Mayor is correct. We have sent out a squad of militia to investigate, and they were butchered to a man. We don’t have any more bodies to spare. We have every reason to believe that a small group of veterans, such as you with my accompaniment, will be able to root out this problem.”
“And,” Jarmaath interrupted, “if you run into more than you can handle, the Lion Guard can quickly be mustered to deal with the threat.” Looking to Fendric, he continued, “You see, the Lion Guard is more of a broadsword, and it is my opinion that you may need more of a…scalpel…for this mission.”
Garet spoke up, “So it is your belief that the three of us will be able to deal with this warband?”
“Four,” piped up Durgarl, “for I will be joining you as the Lord Mayor’s personal representative in this matter.”
The goliath, Garth, groaned, cursing in Gol-Ka. “Look, I have no problem with accepting this mission on behalf the Hammerfist Holds, but you,” pointing at the raptoran, “are no warrior. What use will you be in a fight?”
Durgarl smiled, “I am a skilled healer, and my magic will aid you in battle. I may not be able to swing a sword as capably as you, but I believe that you will see that I have my…’use’.”
-----------------------------------------------------------
The road between Rethmar and Drellin’s Ferry was long, dry, and hot. Even with the light warhorses spared by the Lion Guard, the overland travel was to take almost two full days in the blistering subtropical sun. After staying the first night in Timor’s Gap, the newly-formed troupe continued west, and Fendric began recognizing landmarks. They were almost there.
The goliath, tired of the silence in which his new comrades traveled, cleared his throat. “So, Fendric, is it? What’s your story?”
“What do you mean?” the wizard replied, sounding somewhat uninterested.
“Well, I mean its obvious you’re not from around here, right? What brought you to this speck of dust town?”
Fendric sighed. “Originally, I hail from Halruaa. I was a member of the mighty Mageguard of Halarahh, Halruaa’s capital.”
“Ahhh…” Garth mused, “I’ve heard of your kind. The soldiery all take orders from the arcanists, no?” Fendric nodded, to which the goliath responded, “So why in the Nine Hells would you give that up for a militia position here?”
Fendric shook his head. “It’s not that easy. You see, if a superior gives you an order, you follow it. Even if that order ultimately leads to your destruction. Two years ago, I was leading a company of the Mageguard against a raid from Bandit Waste barbarians. We were one of three such companies, led by a much more powerful Halruaan Elder. To make a long story short, I was given an order that I felt was a suicide order…I had led my men through numerous previous fights, and they had served me well. I could not lead them to their deaths at the beck and call of another.
“As it turned out, my men and I survived and were victorious. We held our portion of the battlefield, all due to my changed tactical plan. Ultimately, however, my decision resulted in a loss of the battle, the destruction of the other two companies, and the death of the Halruaan Elder. To this day I struggle with the decision: My life and those of my men…or the success of the mission.” Fendric paused for a second, lost in thought, but then quickly regrouped. “For my defiance, I was stripped of my commission, flogged, and exiled, never to return to my home. And that is how I ended here.”
Garth nodded. “Pretty good story, there. Maybe I can match it. I was born on the high steppes of the…”
Garet, riding three horselengths in front of the group snapped his head back and hissed at the goliath. “Enough! The story can wait. We have company.”
----------------------------------------------
Fifty yards ahead of the group, the elf had caught the quick glint of steel in a copse of trees overlooking a pinched section of the roadway. His eyes, acute even when compared to those of his race, quickly discerned multiple shapes in the trees, and it wasn’t long before he realized that they were hobgoblins. Marauders! Subtly, the scout pointed to the trees and alerted his companions to its inhabitants.
No further convincing needed, Durgarl quickly recited the words to two of his lesser prayers. The first blessed his companions attacking ability, and the second cloaked them in Oghma’s divine protection. Quickly, Garet nocked an arrow and fired at the closest hobgoblin. With a satisfying thunk, the arrow lodged itself in the bandit’s thigh.
All that Fendric needed was to see the general area of Garet’s attack. Quickly summoning the Weave to his will, the area surrounding the hobgoblin became surrounded by a sizzling sphere of electricity. The hobgoblin’s body twitched violently in response to the attack and he collapsed, his heart stopped. Two others were caught in the area, but to Fendric’s chagrin both managed to survive.
At that moment, two massive hounds bounded out of the woods, and began running towards the party, their breath reeking of brimstone. Durgarl and Fendric immediately recognized them to be hellhounds, infernal dogs born of fire.
Garth called out, “Come here, puppies! Papa’s got a surprise for you!” and leapt from his horse, trident and shield in hand. He also realized that at least five of the hobgoblins had left the relative shelter of the woods and were advancing on him. ‘Six on one’, Garth thought, ‘I haven’t seen odds that good since I was in that fighting pit.’
Garet leapt down from his horse, took a few steps and let fly another arrow at the lead hobgoblin. Using his momentum and speed to aid his shot the arrow struck true, and lodged in the hobgoblin’s ribcage. With a grunt, the warrior fell to his knees before collapsing face-first in the dust.
Seeing the goblinoids banded together in their advance, Fendric smiled. Chanting arcane words yet again, the wizard released a pea-sized ball of red energy from his fingertips. At its terminus in the middle of massed hobgoblins, the ball blossomed into a sphere of flame. Two of the hobgoblins were instantly incinerated. The two remaining, singed though they were, continued their advance and were joined by one more hobgoblin warrior, this one equipped with a pair of smaller blades instead of the standard-issue longsword and shield of his companions. The new combatant, known to his kind as a bladebearer, ordered his men to continue their advance.
“This is going far too easy,” Garth chuckled, shortly before the two hellhounds bounded up to him and breathed cones of fiery breath over him. Burned, and now angry, the goliath cursed. “Ok…I take that back. When did dogs get the ability to do that!” The fighter began to advance on the fiendish canines, but was stopped short as the bladebearer threw himself forward.
Quickly, the bladebearer judged his foe. He had been trained over and over again in methods to attack and defeat foes that were equipped in the manner of the goliath before him. Something was wrong, with this one, however. In horror the hobgoblin realized too late at how awkwardly that Garth wielded his trident. The trident was a ruse! Before the bladebearer could adjust his position towards the real threat Garth’s shield hand swept out in a wide arc. The goliath, using the flat sharp bottom edge of his massive shield, cracked the hobgoblin across the temple, drawing blood. ‘Shields aren’t just for protection, gobbo!’ Garth mused.
The bladebearer adjusted his stance and grinned evilly. He wouldn’t get caught by that trick again. The hobgoblin lunged forward, but as he did so, Durgarl completed another of his prayers. The area surrounding the bladebearer, his two remaining soldiers, and the hellhounds were targeted with a piercing blast of sound. The two soldiers dropped to the ground, their eardrums burst, and the bladebearer dropped his swords and clutched his hands to his head, trying to regain his senses.
Garet took this opportunity to act. Again running forward, the scout timed his movement and fired a deadeye shot, hitting the bladebearer through the eye, killing him instantly.
-------------------------------------
Invisibly, Zarr, Doom Hand Cleric, watched in horror as the group made quick work of his hellhound pets. It was time for him to get involved in this fight. Summoning energy from the Negative Plane, Zarr strode over to the giant warrior and merely touched him on the shoulder. The goliath screamed in pain as he felt his life force literally being sucked out of him. Turning his head, he noted a new hobgoblin, obviously a shaman or priest of sorts.
The companions sprang into action against this now-visible foe. First, Fendric unleashed three streaks of light from his fingers, each of which struck the hobgoblin with the force of a dart. Then, Garet tumbled forward and unleashed another arrow, striking the priest in the shoulder. Durgarl ran forward, laying his hands on Garth’s wounds and prayed. The wounds, charged with energy from the Positive Plane, began to close. Garth got the last laugh. Feinting yet again with his sword, the goliath crashed the flat of his shield into the priest’s face, crushing his skull.
The group went through the process of stripping the bodies for any valuables. In the clean-up, Garet located a small dilapidated barn that contained not only the hobgoblins camp but also the bodies of four humans…apparently members of a small merchant caravan that had been murdered on the road.
Garth reached down to the priest’s body, and roughly ripped off the amulet around the corpse's neck. ‘Must be some kind of holy symbol,’ he thought. Displaying it for Durgarl, the goliath asked, “You recognize this?”
The raptoran’s mouth dropped open. The symbol was a crimson hand on a yellow field...the symbol from his dream. Durgarl realized that the symbol, now that he viewed it in context, was one of the many known symbols of the Chromatic Dragon: Tiamat.
