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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Raven Crowking" data-source="post: 1821543" data-attributes="member: 18280">Fifteenth GameThe road continued to travel more or less eastward, taking the easiest way around hills or outcrops of bare stone.  The group was averaging about 16 miles a day when they kept moving – faster than some of the heavily laden peasants and farmers they passed, but slower than the occasional mounted rider who passed them.  Much of the land they were passing through had been clear-cut for farming, and there were places where sheep or goats grazed.  The farmhouses were thick-walled with narrow windows.  Despite these fortifications, they saw signs of violence – burned farmhouses and the charred remains of orcs and men.It was cold in the morning.  They pushed forward anyway, letting the motion of walking warm them.Around midday, the clouds grew heavy, and by late afternoon the first fat drops fell from the sky, accompanied by a roll of thunder.  They could see an old farmhouse ahead – sound looking, but seemingly deserted.  Away from the road behind it was a wide well, capped with stone.  Bits of bright cloth fluttered like banners from a thorn tree overlooking the well.While some of the group huddled near the cart, Locke and Desu went to fill their waterskins at the well.  Laying on the well’s stone lid was a silver comb, which Desu took.  The stone lid was difficult to push open, but when they had managed it, they filled their skins and bottles.  The well water seemed cool and clear, forming a pool that they could easily reach.  The stone lid had obviously kept the water fresh.As Desu watched, what looked like a severed head floated to the surface, rolled over, and submerged again.“Maybe I won’t be drinking that water after all,” he said.While they had been examining the well, the rain and wind had abated somewhat, but now it grew stronger yet, presenting a danger to Desu’s animal companions.  They decided to hazard the farmhouse.It was a simple, two-room affair with a wooden floor.  The roof leaked a little, but not too much, and rats had taken to nesting in the thatching.  There was a jumble of old furniture – mostly broken, but enough to make the house reasonably comfortable.They used some of the broken pieces to make a fire in the grate.  The fireplace flue was not completely clear, and some of the smoke came back into the room, curling about the ceiling and making the air a little thick.  They were just getting comfortable when the door opened, and a half-orc stepped in.The group looked up, startled.  “Who are you?” asked Nift.“Forgive me,” the intruder replied.  “It is wet out, and I saw the signs of your fire.  I am Firestar Dragonwing, paladin of Mardan and Odnasept.”“Mardan I know,” said Gork.  “Who – or what – is Odnasept?”“Odnasept is the combination of all dragon deities into one perfection of being, the Creator of Worlds, Serpent of Beginning and End, the Infinite Dragon, the Great Unity.  Odnasept is a champion of law and good, and a friend to the Seven Good Gods.”Gork grunted.  He knew well that the world had been created by the battle between the Elder Gods and the Great Titans.  Odnasept sounded like an aspect of the Beast Lord of Reptiles to him.  Nor had he ever heard of a half-orc who was a paladin.  Such things simply did not occur in the world he knew.  Still, this Firestar seemed decent enough.Soon, they were talking as old friends.  The group learned that Firestar was the product of a rape.  His father was an orcish chieftain, and his mother a Lakashi woman.  He was traveling from Long Archer, looking for deeds to accomplish.  Locke explained that the group had been asked to seek out the Bonewardens, and thus end the current threat caused by orcs in that area.The connection wasn’t really clear.  “We were given the mission by a talking bush,” Locke explained.  “Of course, I am a follower of Badur, Judge of the Dead, which would seem to make me a Bonewarden myself.”  He shrugged.  “We shall see when we find them, I guess.”When the thundershower stopped, less than an hour later, the entire party – now including Firestar – went back to the well.  They wished to see for themselves the severed head that Desu had reported.As they watched, the head floated to the surface of the water.  It’s long golden hair was matted about the face, and the flesh was half calcified.  It appeared to be a young warrior of perhaps twenty winters, comely once, but now bloated and hideous.“I’m definitely not drinking that water,” Desu said.  Both he and Locke began emptying their skins.  There were small streams enough near the road.The decapitated head’s eyes opened, and he spoke:“Wash me, Comb me, Pleat my golden hair. Lay me gently on the green bank to dry.”“The comb!” Desu cried, retrieving it quickly.  He pulled the severed head up out of the well and began trying to pull the comb through its wet and matted hair.  At last, when Desu deemed the job was done, he set the head on the green bank to dry.  Though the grass was wet, the sun had come out again.“The red haired lad can never eat his fill,” the head said, “but feed him enough and he’ll be a friend to thee.”“What?” said Eden.“Hurm,” said the head.“Did he say Hrum?” asked Nift, who was familiar with the group’s history.Another head rose – this one even more hideous than the first.  “Wash me, comb me, pleat my golden hair,” this head said.  “Lay me gently on the green bank to dry.”“That is my brother, Beorn,” the first head said.  “And he is harder to please than I.”Desu again tried to groom the head to its liking, but this head was not so easily satisfied.  When Desu placed it on the bank, it caught its reflection in the well and flew into a rage.“You have left my cheeks all blotted with mud!  May dirt fall in your eyes ‘til a beggar gives you alms!”No sooner was the curse spoken than it occurred.  Desu found himself half-blinded with dirt and soot.  Quickly, Nift stepped forward and began complimenting the head’s appearance.  After a time, the head stopped frowning, and retracted its curse.  As Desu’s vision cleared, it spoke:  “Knock on the house of bone, but enter not.  He who dwells there would sell his soul for a drop of the good red wine, had he a soul to sell.  He will try to give you many a treasure, but hold fast ‘til he gives you the stick he keeps behind his door.”The second head looked up at Nift.  “The three brothers that dwelt in that house had a sword wondrously sharp.  Watch the first rat you see.  Reach without fear into the hole it chooses, and you’ll draw forth the blade.”“Excellent!” said Eden greedily, and she ran into the house with Nift.  Each saw a different rat; each rat ran into a different hole.  As Nift drew out a keen longsword, cunningly wrought, Eden hesitated.  “I was not addressed,” she said, “and something bad will no doubt happen unless I master my greed.”Nift approached Firestar, and presented the blade to him.“It is too large for me,” Nift said.  “I deem it will be put to better use in your hands.”“I thank you,” said Firestar.  “This is indeed a princely gift.”By this time, the third head had arisen, and it was more terrible than the first two put together – not only had this warrior been decapitated, but also his skull had been split wide.  “That is our brother, Glam-Morgan,” the other two heads said.  “And he is the most difficult of us all.”“Wash me, Comb me, Pleat my golden hair. Lay me gently on the green bank to dry.”Again, the head was displeased with Desu’s ministrations, though Manveru did his best to help Desu groom the head.“You have plaited my hair too tight on the left and too loose on the right!” Glam-Morgan’s head complained, referring to the sides where his head was split.  “May your hand be struck with palsy whenever you draw blade, ‘til the tears of a saint washes it away!”Now, this was not a terrible curse for either Manveru or Desu, who tended to use non-bladed weapons.  Nonetheless, again Nift was able to charm the head into retracting its curse.  Indeed, he was able to make the head quite jolly.  It offered them advice.“Fear not to pay thy debts, though the aspect of the collector be terrible to behold.  That which you are bound to do is that which you must do.”  The head then turned to Nift.  “Wait by the hanged man where the crossroads meet.  When the raven plucks out its right eye, grab quickly that which falls to the ground.”They could see neither crossroads nor hanged man in the immediate vicinity.  When questioned, the heads would say nothing more, save “Hurm” from the first head, “Hum” from the second, and “Hoom” from the third.  The heads lay drying on the bank, enjoying the sunshine, until Desu stuck his hand into Glam-Morgan’s split skull.  Then they all hopped back into the well.  Glam-Morgan’s skull squeezed tight, and he nearly pulled Desu in to drown.The group continued on their way.They were now moving into wilder lands.  The farmhouses and woodsman’s cots became fewer and farther between.  Still, the road was good, as it was often maintained at the command of the Baron Archer.In the late afternoon, they came across a contingent of six orcs, well armed and strong, with pots of zurgâsh and bows.  For a few tense moments, the two groups stood their ground, choosing their positions.“We do not wish to fight you,” Firestar said in the Dark Tongue.  “Step aside, and we will be on our way.  Or better yet, do you know of the Bonewardens?”The orc lieutenant passed out dabs of grey paste to the warriors.  The orc captain stepped forward.  “What is your business with the Bonewardens?” he asked with narrowed eyes.“We are seeking them.”The orc captain sized up the respective might of his troops, and of those they faced.  “All who would pass here must pay a toll,” he said at last.“Really?” said Locke.  “And what do you expect us to pay?”The orc captain began to answer, but at that moment their attention was drawn to the sound of two boars crashing through the woods to the north, toward their position.  They were huge, ancient creatures.  Their massed muscles were pulled over a frames more the size of black bears than boars.  Their tusks were long and wickedly sharp.  Spikes of bone protruded from their skulls, protecting their mean little eyes.Desu reached into the Green.  Around the boars, the vegetation came to life, twisting around their limbs, restraining them.  But the boars were too strong.  They pulled against the entangling foliage.  Their charge was slowed, but not stopped.Other feuds were, for the moment, forgotten.  The natural fury of the beasts made them a common foe.  The orcish archers stepped back, and began firing upon the boars, but the orcish warriors enraged by zurgâsh charged foolishly toward the foe, and were snared by vine and fern.  The stronger boar pushed easily toward the orcs, and sliced them to ribbons while they tried to bring their axes to bear.  One orcish warrior went flying into a tree, and moved no more.Still, the orc archers were able to send arrows into the large animals.  As often as not, though, they glanced off – or broke upon – the boars’ tough hides.  The adventurers, the orc captain, and the lieutenant prepared to meet the creatures as they arrived.  One of the boars charged into the cart, killing the donkey.  With Gork leading the attack, the adventurers cut into the first boar while the second decimated the orcs.  With the first boar slain, they turned their attention to the second, and were able to slay it as well, for it had been heavily wounded by the orcs.Only one orc – one of the archers – remained standing.  He looked at the adventuring party.  They were sorely wounded, but they were all standing.  It was not difficult to imagine how he would fare in combat against them.“You have proved your valour in combat,” the orc said.  “You may go forward without paying a toll.”</blockquote>

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