NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Raven Crowking" data-source="post: 1517961" data-attributes="member: 18280">Second SessionThe next morning, the scent of roasted boar brought another visitor to their camp.  This time it was a dwarf with a large black raven perched on his shoulder.  Locke had lost all memory of his life three years ago.  Something had happened in Weirwood the Great – he knew not what – that left him wounded with no recall beyond his name.  When the dwarf came toward the ashes of their fire, some brief recall fluttered just beyond Locke’s grasp.  It was the raven, not the dwarf.  Something to do with ravens.  Then it was gone.Before long, the dwarf was breaking fast with them on greasy strips of roast boar.  Locke had met but a few dwarves in the time he could remember, but most of these were either taciturn or grumpy, and some few had had heard of – but never met – were greedy to the point of wickedness.  By contrast, Darwin Ravenscroll was chatty and energetic, often spinning off into irrelevant swirls of speech as though he were fey-touched.  He would occasionally croak bird-wise at his raven, although it clearly knew dwarf-speech.For all his speech, they learned little about Ravenscroll as they broke fast, apart from the fact that he studied the arcane arts.  Nonetheless, when Desu invited him to join their quest, all were swift to agree.  After all, with additional help they were more likely to succeed, and by now they realized that they hadn’t even found out what reward they might be sharing.  When a reward might be enough for four, or too little for one, what was the point in arguing about it?Their most serious discussion over breakfast was on the subject of food and equipment.  The boar’s meat would help, but would not last forever, and their defeat at its tusks had left them with injuries that Desu’s magic had been insufficient to fully heal.  They considered splitting forces, sending some back to Long Archer to beg for aid.  Desu was desirous of getting a donkey to carry the extra burdens they began to realize they needed.  Indeed, the group as a whole began to succumb to despair, feeling themselves less than equal to the simplest of the Weirwood’s challenges.Time spent in the Hidden Shrine of Badur had given Locke another perspective.  The priests of the Bonewarden had taught him that life was a passage, and death nothing to be feared if life had been lived well.  Locke himself would not be bound for gray Lymbo.  Had it not been prophesied that he would only regain his lost memories once this life had ended?“I think we should continue,” Locke said.Darwin Ravenscroll chimed in his agreement.  After all, the dwarf had not been part of the skirmish with the boar, and as a result was uninjured and whole.  His raven familiar cawed harsh agreement.Despair postponed, but not cancelled, the group rose from their breakfast and began to travel along the path.  It was long after their noon-day meal when they came upon an ancient woman hobbling with a cane, her back bent nearly double with age and a heavy saddle basket of turnips she carried, full enough to give even a donkey pause.  One of her arms was in a sling, and she was limping.  They could hear her muttering under breath, but could not tell what she said.Locke hailed her.“Do you need help?” Desu added.The old woman looked up, and a snaggle-toothed smile brightened her lined face.  “Bright Spirits,” she said.  “Bright Spirits sent you to me!  Save my Henry!  The troll’s got him, just down the path” – she pointed back the way she’d come from – “If you don’t hurry, I fear Henry’ll be killed and et!”At once the morning’s despair arose.  “A troll?” Ravenscroll said.  “I’m not fighting a troll!”  He looked the way the old woman had pointed.  It was the direction they were already headed, down the trail they were using.  “There is no way that we can face a troll and survive.”Desu sat upon a fallen log.  Clearly he was recalling the badger he had befriended, and how easily they had all fallen when the boar had attacked.“Nonetheless,” said Locke, loosening his greatsword in its scabbard.  “I am going.”  He took no more than a dozen steps before the dwarf turned his mind and hurried to catch up to him.  Most fey-like and unusual for a dwarf.  Locke wondered what it meant.  A merry company of misfits, this group was.  Once Locke and Ravenscroll had disappeared into the trees down the path, Hrum and Desu exchanged a look.  Desu rose.  Sighing heavily, they followed.The ruined tower was no more than a hundred yards down the path, in a smallish clearing.  Its base was perhaps thirty feet in diameter, and it had fallen past a height of fifteen feet or so, in a tumble of large stones.  Most of these were scattered to the northeast.  Where the door once allowed access, a ragged wound ten feet high had been smashed out of the stone.  The growth of moss, weeds, and lichen showed that all this happened long ago – many of the jumbled stones were nearly hidden by deep green coatings of moss.  Tied to a stake in front of the tower ruin was a very miserable-looking donkey.“This is old stonework,” muttered Ravenscroll, “as humans count the years, yet not so old that more would not be standing, had it been better crafted.”  He began to walk toward the tower.  The donkey seemed overjoyed to see him.  Locke drew his greatsword and peered about cautiously.  He had, after all, been warned about trolls.  Stepping quietly on the spring grass, Locke edged around the glade until he could see some of what was hidden by the tower.A giant humanoid, nearly ten feet tall, was engaged in building a cairn with some of the fallen tower stones.  Not a troll, then.  An ogre.  Still dangerous, but not as dangerous as what they had feared.  From the size of the cairn, whatever it was burying was about the size of the ogre itself.  The ogre was wrapped in a bear’s hide, tied on with a rope.  Its well-muscled arms were hairy and knotted with warts and muscle.  What Locke could see of its face was bestial, with huge teeth and a bristling beard.  At least the ogre favored one side as it worked, as though wounded.  Thank Badur for small favors.Hrum and Desu caught up to them and stepped into the clearing.  Desu let the donkey free.  It raced across the clearing, and cowered behind the half-orc warrior.  As Desu returned to where the donkey and Hrum stood, they caught sight of the ogre.  Hrum quickly strung his bow.  Desu, however, saw that it was injured and, as Ravenscroll stepped through the ragged stone gap into the tower, Desu hailed the ogre.“Forgive our intrusion,” he said.  “Maybe we can help.”The ogre turned its red-rimmed eyes toward Desu.  Its face was twisted with grief and rage.  It howled in anger.“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Locke said.  Suddenly prophecies didn’t seem so imperative.  Recovering his lost life didn’t seem worth dying for at the moment.  He stepped quickly away from Hrum and Desu as the ogre retrieved a huge greatclub from near where it was working.  From within the tower, Ravenscroll gave a cry of pain.  Hrum loosed an arrow.  Again, the ogre roared with rage.  The dwarf’s raven shot out of the tower in a flurry of panic.Hrum fired arrow after arrow as the ogre advanced.  Most found their mark.  Locke and Desu moved swiftly away, leaving Hrum to face the ogre alone.  “By the Seven Good Gods!” called Hrum.  “Some help here!”  He fired another arrow, and then dropped his bow in favor of his sword.“Draw it this way,” Locke called.  Desu prepared a sling stone.  The raven fluttered between tower and the companions as Hrum hurried toward them.  It almost wasn’t enough.  With it’s great stride and reach, the ogre struck Hrum a glancing blow with its greatclub.  Clearly, a solid blow would be lethal.Another ogre, this one a stripling no taller than a tall man, stepped out of the tower.  It was armed with an ornate trident.  The raven redoubled its efforts, trying to draw its master’s friends into the tower.  But now Hrum, Locke, and Desu stood together at last.  Whether it was this or not, the ogres did not stand long.  The young ogre was already greatly injured.  Perhaps his father did not want to lose him.  In any event, the fight had gone out of them, and they quickly fled into the forest.Moments later, Desu followed the raven into the tower, where Darwin Ravenscroll lay injured close to death.The tower walls were five feet thick, giving way to a space about twenty feet in diameter.  A narrow stone stair wound counterclockwise around the inner wall, leading nowhere.  Part of a wooden roof remained, giving shelter to a massive cot.  Darwin lay crumpled near the side of the cot, bleeding from a vicious stab wound.  There were various pots and pans, bones, bags, and bits of rusty dented metal armor scattered about the tower in an untidy hodgepodge.  Desu clattered through them quickly to the dwarf’s side.  At least he was still breathing, but he was pale with blood loss.  Despite the extent of Ravenscroll’s injuries, Desu was able to stabilize him without too much difficulty, staunching the wounds with sticky cobwebs and bloodmarrow.By that time, they had all entered the ruined tower and looked around.  Locke and Hrum began sorting through the ogres’ stolen loot.  They set aside those items that might be useful in the Dragon’s Lair, such as a coil of hemp rope.  Locke gave a small gasp of delight when he found a sack filled with tobacco.  He immediately withdrew his pipe from his pouch.By this time, they had a sour feeling about the identity of Henry.  Desu took the donkey, which had stayed nearby, back down the trail.  When the donkey caught sight of the crone, he immediately set his hind legs and pulled at his traces, braying loudly.  The old woman just laughed.  “It’s only turnips, Henry,” she said, “and you know your burdens.  You wouldn’t want Annabelle to get lonely.”  The donkey struggled a minute more, then hung its head and submitted.The old woman slung the saddle basket up onto the donkey’s back.  Henry grunted as it settled.“I was wondering if we could get some turnips,” Desu said.The old woman looked at him without blinking.  “My Henry’s well enough,” she said, “and you need repaying.  I’ll give you your turnips, if you want them, but it seems hardly enough.  I always repay my debts.  Yon tower will give you a safe night’s rest, now that the landlord is away.  When morning comes, look to the depths, and you’ll be rewarded sure enough.  Only, wait ‘til dawn, mind.  Does no good to be dredging up old ghosts.”As she led the donkey away, a fog rose from the ground to meet her.  The donkey cast one beseeching look over its shoulder, then plodded after her.  For a moment, it seemed as if the turnips in the donkey’s saddle blanket had become a jumbled pile of tiny heads, though it must have been a trick of fog and shadow.  Then the mist swallowed them, and they were gone.Desu looked in the bag the crone had given him.  The turnips seemed normal enough, so he made a stew of them with what remained of the boar’s meat, and they ate it that night.  They camped in the ruined tower, so that they could look for the reward the old woman had mentioned in the morning.  At twilight, Desu communed with the natural spirits of the glade – moss and grass and tree – but he didn’t have magic enough to heal them all, and despite his best efforts Ravenscroll remained stable but unconscious.In the morning, it became obvious that the tower once had a stone floor beneath the accumulated soil and detritus.  They discovered an ancient wooden trapdoor set with an iron ring.  Though the iron was rusted, and the wood swollen and gray with age, the entire thing seemed sound enough – indeed, they must have unknowingly trusted their weight to it many times the night before.Hrum gave a great heave and the trapdoor opened.  Looking in, they saw that the trapdoor gave way to narrow wooden steps leading down into the darkness, slick with moisture.  Hrum, Desu, and Locke crept down the stairs carefully.  They were too narrow for anything more than single-file passage.At the end of the stairs was a tiny damp chamber, once the cistern for the men stationed here when the tower was whole.  The walls were covered with translucent slime, giving them an opalescent sheen in Desu’s torchlight.  A small, slime-coated wooden chest sat close to the narrow well shaft, which led down into moist blackness.After checking the slime with the torch to see if it would react – for there were dangerous slimes and oozes that seemed like nothing more than damp walls, they knew – they opened the chest.  Within were an ornate helm and a soft leather bag containing what appeared to be colorful sling stones.  Desu took the stones, and Hrum took the helm.  Briefly checking the well, and deciding that it wasn’t of any serious interest, they climbed the stairs again.They decided to make a litter to carry the dwarf, and continue on toward the Dragon’s Lair.  Already they were feeling the press of time, remembering Master Oarsman’s fear that if his son were not found by the full moon, he’d not be found alive.Luckily the caves were not far, so even with the extra burden – Desu wishing bitterly that they had kept the donkey – they arrived before noon.The Dragon’s Lair had two visible entrances:  a wide but low entrance right off the trail, and another, narrower entrance somewhat up the hill to the left.  Clearly, if any dragon ever crawled into the earth here, it was a small dragon indeed.They placed Darwin near the cave entrance under the trees, and then sat to make a mid-day meal.  They had finished the boar-and-turnip stew when they broke fast, so they turned toward Locke, who had provided food on past occasions.“Sorry,” Locke was forced to say.  “I don’t have enough food for everyone.”It soon became clear that the only one who had food in any quantity was the dwarf, whom they had spent the morning carrying and caring for.  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” said Hrum.“Don’t be so sure,” said Locke.  Ravenscroll was flighty and might not mind, but dwarves had as solid a reputation as dragons for knowing what was theirs to the last copper penny.Desu went into Darwin’s pack, under the raven’s disapproving eye and loud imprecations – again, Locke felt a tug of disassociated memory that refused to coaslese into something solid.  He pulled out enough food for three.  “We need it.  And we’ve been carrying him all day,” he said.  Then he added, quietly, “You realize that we might not have enough food to get back.”“Perhaps not.  But we’re here now, so let’s see what we can do.”When they had finished eating, they ducked into the wider cave entrance.  After only a few feet, the cave opened into a wide chamber.  The uneven floor sloped gently downward to the east, and the ceiling rose like a dome to a height of over fifteen feet, allowing them to stand straight once more.  A few narrow stalagmites, and a few more stalactites decorated the room.  The floor was spattered with guano, which in turn gave a home to small roaches, crickets, centipedes, and other tiny vermin.  They could clearly see daylight through the other entrance.At the far side of the chamber, a narrow tunnel five feet in diameter burrowed at a moderate angle deeper into the earth.  There was nowhere else Brand Oarsmen and his men-at-arms could have gone, if they had gone into the caves at all.The passage was harder than they supposed.  After some distance, a narrow passage opened from the ceiling of the passage they traveled down, but they decided to ignore it for the moment.  They could hear the trickle of running water down below, and thought it might be better to see where the sound was coming from.Because the passage was so narrow, Hrum went first, followed by Desu.  Locke was bringing up the rear when something snagged him and pulled him up into the second passage in the ceiling.  He yelled.  Luckily, his sword was drawn, and he didn’t drop it.Bracing his feet to slow the irresistable pull, he faced a nightmare creature like a gigantic crayfish holding onto the ceiling of the second passage.  A nearly invisible filiament not unlike spiderweb emerged from its snout, and pulled Locke steadily toward it.  It clacked two large claws in anticipation of fresh meat.In the confused seconds that followed, Locke could hear his companions trying to come to his aid.  The reature was trying to rend him with its claws.  At one point, Locke grunted as a sling bullet impacted his hindquarters, and he felt a tingle as some magic tried to work itself upon him.  Sling bullets and arrows were far more likely to hit him than the creature.  He gritted his teeth and resisted the spell.  It disipated, but his companions were still trying dangerously to help him.  Thus far, the creature had not hurt him much, but he was certain he could not last much longer.In desperation, he swung his greatsword in as much of an arc as the tight tunnel would allow.  Fate or his god guided the stroke, for it parted chitin and muscle, and the crayfish-thing fell heavily to the tunnel floor, its legs still solidly attached to the ceiling.  Locke stabbed down between the creature’s eyes, slaying it utterly.Gripping the sticky filament, he pulled hard, and managed to dislodge it.“Let’s go back and check on Ravenscroll,” he said.  “We’ll need all of our strength to assault these caves.”</blockquote>

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