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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jodo Kast" data-source="post: 345797" data-attributes="member: 4810">THE SUNLESS CITADEL Part 5: Rune And Krunk; Twig Blights Rune hated orcs.  Hated them with a passion.  When the dwarf was but a small child, a powerful orc tribe learned the secret of his clan's hidden stronghold.  The orcish chieftains raised a great army and marched on Khundrukar.  In a hard-fought siege lasting months, the orcs tunneled around the dwarven defenses and stormed the place, putting all within to the sword.  Rune's clan was slaughtered.  He only escaped their fate because, just before the orcs broke through the last dwarven defenses, his mother sent him up a natural rock chimney so narrow that only a child or halfling could hope to negotiate it.  From the hilltop above, Rune wept quietly as he listened to the death cries of his clan.  It was the last time the dwarf had cried, and it was a century past.  Yes, Rune truly hated orcs.A fierce looking orc stooped over Rune's prone form as the dwarf slept fitfully by a small campfire that night.  The dwarf groaned in his sleep and the orc reached out a clawed hand toward his face.  One long finger was placed across the dwarf's lips, and a gentle voice that belied the savage face said softly, "Don't worry, Rune.  It be all right.  Krunk be watching good."       In truth, Krunk was only half orc.  His other half was human, though he towered over most men, and his muscled frame made him a good bit heavier as well.  His grayish pigmentation, sloping forehead, jutting jaw, prominent teeth and coarse body hair made his lineage plain for all to see.  He was scarred, his arm bearing a mark of servitude from his time as a slave among the orcs.  Krunk had lived a hard life, and in all his days his only friend had been the volatile dwarf now resting at his feet.  How he had come to travel with a dwarf who hated orcs so was a strange tale, and one best left for another time.    * * * *The dream was always the same.  Rune was a child again, holed up in Khundrukar during the final minutes of the orc siege.  His grandfather was already dead, killed during the bloodiest battle of the siege.  Now there were few defenses left, and it was only a matter of time until the orcs smashed through and finished the job.  Rune's mother smiled and choked back tears as she placed her child in the chimney and urged him to climb.  He refused to go at first, bravely standing his ground with his grandfather's axe clenched in both hands, the weapon almost half as heavy as the boy.  But he was a dwarf, and he would honor his mother's demand even if he disagreed.  He looked down at his mother one last time and began to climb, his grandfather's axe strapped to his back.  The chimney was rough and narrow, easy to climb for the young dwarf, though he was somewhat scraped and bloodied when he emerged on the hillside.  Then came the sounds of battle, and the horrible cries of his people, as the orcs mounted their final assault.Then came the part Rune could not understand.  He dreamed he was back in the chimney, crawling through it, but he was larger now, an adult, and he was scraped and covered in blood from the rough, craggy surfaces of the narrow tunnel.  But as he emerged from the end of the tunnel he was not on that hillside, watching the sun set into a blood red sky, but rather in an enormous dark cave.  And there was the dragon, a giant red.  It saw him, and its cruel mouth formed something akin to a wicked smile.  Its head reared back, its neck lunged forward, the mouth opened and then came the flame, seething, blazing, burning ....* * * *... shaking, shaking, shaking.  "Rune," came the voice in a whisper so loud it was almost comical.  "Wake up Rune!  Somethin' out there.  Krunk scared.""Agh!" spat the dwarf.  "Orc breath!"  What a wonderful way to wake up, he thought grumpily.  Then he remembered where he was.  The two were on their way to Oakhurst to accept a mercenary job.  Sure, Rune had slightly embellished their history.  Maybe he had not conquered goblin tribes single handedly, yet.  Maybe Krunk was not quite as strong as any ten men.  But he was certain they were qualified for the job, and besides, they could use the reward money.  Problem was, they were late arriving.  There had been too much ale in the last town, and that small unfortunate incident with the constable, and then Krunk had gotten them lost in the wilds.  They had picked up the road and were almost to Oakhurst now.  They pitched a small camp that night, figuring if they got an early start they would make Oakhurst well before noon."Well, what is it, half-breed?" Rune hissed.Krunk pointed to some nearby foliage.  There was a sound like wind blowing through dry leaves, and Rune almost dismissed the noise as nothing.  Almost, until he noticed that there was no wind blowing at all that night.  Rune slowly rose to his feet.  Krunk gripped the haft of his greataxe.  The two began circling to either side of the fire, just outside of the light, and toward the noise. Suddenly two strange creatures erupted from the foliage.  They were treelike creatures slightly shorter than Rune, their leafless branches interlocking to create sinister humanoid shapes.  They attacked with barblike claws.  Krunk deftly evaded a swipe of claws.  Rune was not so lucky, and the claws of the creature nearest him opened a gash on his forehead.  Blood and some weird sappy substance trickled down from the wound, and he felt a sharp burning sensation.  Hearing Rune bark in pain, Krunk roared and heaved his greataxe high above his head, bringing it down and cleanly splitting the bizarre little monster before him in half.  All that remained of the creature was a loose bundle of snapped and broken twigs.Krunk rushed to assist the dwarf, but Rune was not helpless.  The stout, red-bearded dwarf stepped back from his foe, his sleeveless yellow drover's coat swirling about him and his blue eyes blazing with a light of their own.  He thrust his hands forward, thumbs touching and fingers spread wide.  A thin sheet of searing flame shot forth from his outspread fingertips in a semicircular burst.  The flames ignited the monster and it uttered an inhuman shriek that sounded like rusty nails being ripped from an old, dry board.  Rune grabbed his grandfather's axe.  The monster staggered toward the dwarf and swiped at him, but the stubby sorceror easily stepped aside.  It took but one deft stroke of the dwarven waraxe to fell the creature, and its shattered remains burned out on the ground."Well, half-breed," said Rune, panting from the evening's unanticipated exertion.  "Either they don't make treants like they used to, or we've discovered some new abomination."</blockquote>

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