"Out of the Frying Pan" - Book II: Catching the Spark (Part One)
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #23 (part IV)
“Quaggoths?” asked Ratchis.
“These are quaggoths,” Tirhas said. “They are the willing slaves of drow.”
“What are they doing here?” Kazrack asked. “I thought this place was supposed to be inhabited by ogres.”
“I do not know,” replied Tirhas.
From beyond the cavern they were now in they all heard a strange cry interrupted by a snarl. Maritn shivered.
‘Perhaps Rahasia summoned them,” Kazrack mused.
“From what I know of summoning magics she would have to be close by to have done that,” Martin the Green said.
“And these are the same creatures that made those tracks we found,” Ratchis said. “Could she summon them permanently.”
“I meant that she called from them,” Kazrack clarified.
“They dwell in the Plutonic Realms. It would be a long way for them to come in so short a time,” said Tirhas. “And Ethiel did not mention a passage to the Plutonic Realms from the Honeycombe.”
“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” said Ratchis. “Come on, let’s check out that sound in the next cavern.”
Again, Ratchis crept forward, while the others hung back. The next cavern was also sunken, its floor several feet below the last cavern, but it was also much bigger. The hulking ranger leapt down into the cavern and saw that to his left, the chamber was a series of plateaus that lead to a dark passageway in that direction. To his right, a dry channel was cut into the floor about eight to ten feet deep and running parallel with the room. It disappeared into a dark hole in the direction he had come from. There was also another out across from where the came from, but it Ratchis’ darkvision did not have the range to penetrate the darkness over there. The floor and ceiling were an obstacle course of stalactites and stalagmites.
On the floor about forty feet away, Ratchis saw the body of a large humanoid, which would have been over nine feet tall, if it still had a head, but it didn’t.
Ratchis relayed what he saw to the others and they came into the chamber. “We could easily be ambushed in here, so stay alert,” said Ratchis.
“What is that thing?” Jeremy asked pointing to the body.
“It’s an ogre, or it was anyway,” replied Ratchis. “Anyone else hear that?”
It was the sound of deep labored breathing coming from passageway to the left. The breath rattled every few seconds.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Jeremy.
“I bet it is a wounded ogre,” said Kazrack. “I think those quaggoth things and the ogres are at war or something.”
“Perhaps the quaggoths are clearing this place to claim it for the drow,” Martin suggested.
Tirhas nodded her head.
Ratchis placed a hand on Kazrack’s shoulder, “Nephthys, grant this dwarf with some portion of your divine strength so that he may do his part to the word free of the evil influence of the drow and their slaves.”
Kazrack felt the new strength course through him, but still weakened by the spider venom, he was still not as strong as he normally was.
“I am going to check out that breathing,” Ratchis said.
“We’ll come with you,” said Kazrack.
“No, just be ready for if I need your help,” said Ratchis.
“Fine, we’ll just get closer to the passage, and you can go parley with the beast,” Kazrack turned to Jeremy and Tirhas. “Can you two give me a hand up to that plateau if there is trouble? I’m not so good at climbing?”
Jeremy nodded, but Tirhas did not reply.
Ratchis hoisted himself up to the level where the passageway, and quietly moved down it. It immediately curved to the left and narrowed a great deal. Soon, Ratchis was in the dark by himself, out of sight of the rest of the party.
The breathing was louder, closer, but its source was still out of view. He moved slowly forward, and still the passageway curved, and just as it turned back at a sharp angle, he heard the deep resonating voice, still breathy emerge from beyond.
“I heard you talking,” it said. The voice was slow and steady, each syllable like the blow of a hammer of in a windy room. “I can smell you, orc-blood.”
“Can we parley?” Ratchis called in a hushed voice.
“What?” the voice said.
“Can we parley?” Ratchis asked again, as he crept forward some more. Sitting in an alcove where the corridor turned, was a huge figure. Over twelve feet tall, he was hunched over, and a huge battle axe was across his knees. He wore the fur of a gray bear over his huge chain shirt. He has pallid, almost frosted blue skin, and long white hair. The giant’s shoulders were twice as broad as Ratchis’, but where his eyes should have been, where just bloody holes, circled by crusty rust-colored discharge.
“What do you mean?” the giant asked.
“Can we just talk?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes… Don’t think that just because I cannot see does not mean I cannot kill you. You know I will,” the giant said, his head cocking trying to pin-point the half-orc’s position. “What are orcs doing in the tunnels? Are you working for the shaggy-ones?”
“No,” Ratchis replied. “I am the only half-orc here that I know of. I am here with several humans and a dwarf searching for an elven woman. We were surprised to find these shaggy things here. We thought there were ogres down here.”
“There were ogres down here. I was their chieftain until my own people turned against me,” the giant said.
“You were attacked by an ogre?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes, my own people turned against me,” the hulking form said through a ragged cough. “I decreed that we would leave the Honeycombe when shaggy-ones began to arrive an endanger us. I thought we should flee to the Scar (82), but the young among my tribe wanted to stay and fight. They punished me for what they saw as cowardice, but I saw as being pragmatic. They poked out my eyes and left me wander the caves until the shaggy ones killed me. They wanted to war with the beasts and now my people are slaughtered. The central chamber, which housed my tribe has already been taken over. It is crawling with those things.”
There was a long pause, where the only sound was the labored breathing of the giant.
“I love the sound of a crunching skull as much as the next person,” the giant continued. “But the survival of our tribe was more important, but I don’t think they could ever see that. So now all that there is left for me to do is find my way to the central chamber and die killing as many of those things as I can before I go. I hope that I should be blessed enough by the gods to kill their leader before I die.”
“Who is there leader?” Ratchis asked.
“I do not know,” answered the giant. “But they have got to have a leader they are too organized to not have one.”
“What is you name?” Ratchis asked. “I am called Ratchis.”
“My name is Silverback (83). At least, that’s what it would be in this tongue. Have you met many of these creatures I speak of?”
“Three,” replied Ratchis.
“Only three? I’ve never encountered them in groups of less than eight, or maybe six,” Silverback said.
“I have to go and tell my companions that I am safe and that you pose us no danger,” said Ratchis. “Perhaps you can lead us to this central chamber?”
“If you wish to accompany me to death in battle, by all means, it will make my hear swell that that many more of these beasts were killed by my doing,” Silverback said. He almost smiled.
Ratchis went back and told the others about the old giant.
“Will he bring us to the central chamber?” Kazrack asked. “The drow is most likely making her way there if she is not there already.”
“Yes, he will bring us, but he makes it sound like there are too many there for us to hope to deal with,” explained Ratchis. “Perhaps if we could sneak in and find her and grab her and get out… somehow…”
“I don’t know how you expect us to survive an assault on a place teeming with those quaggoth things when they have a drow witch on their side,” Martin said flustered.
“Can we trust the creature?” Tirhas asked, her face scrunched up in a look of disgust.
“I think we can,” replied Ratchis.
They decided to all climb up to the plateau and come speak with Silverback. They found him moved from his place, to the narrow corridor that ran perpendicular to the one they followed.
“I am going,” he said, his heavy breath keeping a dirge-like rhythm for his words to rest against.
“Will you lead us to the central chamber?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes, I know a secret way. I know this place better than all my people. Only I among them know this place was once a fortress for the dark race of elves, and I have found some of their tunnels,” Silverback said.
“Yes, we are looking for an elf, an elven maiden. I mentioned her before,” Ratchis asked. “have you seen her?”
“I have seen no elf,” Silverback replied. “Then again, I have not seen much of anything for these past many days. I’ve only heard the cries of my people as they are torn apart by the beasts. My only comfort is in that their last thoughts they must think of how they should have listened to me. And the young upstarts that did this to me are dead!” His voice rose up like deep operatic horn, his tense muscles spasming with anger.
The party looked at the giant ogre nervously.
“I am going now,” Silverback continued. Follow if you will, the way is long and winding, but I can bring you to a place where you may be able to observe the central chamber before you enter it and perhaps take them by surprise ere morning – when I will kill as many as I can before I am killed.”
Silverback, crouched and pointing one shoulder before the other, led the party down the narrow winding passage that slowly climbed up and up and up. For such a big creature in a small place, and for being blind, Silverback moved with great speed and confidence. His feet did not falter once. Of course, in many places where the giant must squeeze through the companions were able to pass through quite easily.
After traveling nearly an hour like this, they felt cold air rush through the narrow tunnel. Martin stopped and refilled the lantern with oil, and then they emerged at the edge of huge cliff, which was just one side of an immense underground canyon. The drop off to their left as they emerged sank into what seemed like endless and impenetrable darkness. Above them the ceiling stretched away by score of feet, but thankfully the cliff side opened up a bit right ahead, where there was a wide opening to the right, from which a bouncing light emerged.
Light?
“Listen,” Slverback said, stepping to one side to let the other out of the narrow corridor. “Do you hear that?”
From the opening ahead and to the light from whence the light emerged, there was the sound of battle and human voices mixed together with the snarls, barks and roaring hoots of quaggoths.
“Ugh! Agh! Ugh! Get back!” cried one voice, each syllable punctuating the clang of a sword blade, or the squeal in pain of one of those creatures. “Look out! There is another hairy muthalova over there!”
“Damn! There’s two on me,” called another whiny voice.
And behind it all was a voice singing very loudly and rhythmically. “Though she was such a mess, I pull off her dress and threw her in bed and kept her well fed with sausages, breadcrumbs and grapes! With sausages, breadcrumbs and grapes!” It was a catchy bawdy tune that seemed to flow well with the drumbeat of battle.
The party ran forward, but Silverback hung back not wanting to reveal himself. Ratchis reached the opening first followed by Jeremy. Martin and Jana ran past the opening, the latter taking some cover from the wall on the opposite side. Tirhas, bow in hand went to the center of the opening, while Kazrack took up the rear.
In the opening there was a group of five human men out-numbered by quaggoths. The men seemed experienced warriors, as they had spread out in a nice circle from which they could get to each other, but so they had their backs to the walls as to avoid being surrounded.
Closest to Ratchis was the singing man, he was of slight build, and had wavy light brown hair and a soft handsomeness that was emphasized by his palpable dislike of being underground and dirty, but he fought well with a long sword, slapping the two quaggoths back deftly and avoiding their blows – fighting in a brown waistcoat and breeches – no armor. (84)
Across the cavern from him, facing two quaggoths himself, was a tall and lanky man in leather armor fighting with a long sword as well, but he seemed to be struggling more, and he displayed several deep wounds in his right side and shoulder. He had dark brown curly hair, and bad skin. He had a slack-jawed look to him and he whined the whole time he was fighting, “I need some healing over here!” (85)
Beside the lanky man, was broad man of good height, dressed in splint mail and bearing a heavy mace and a shield. From the shield shone the light that illuminated the cavern, and it also bore the insignia of a scepter held in a black hand and bathed in flame. He wore a full helm with a tassel of black sticking up from the top. He fought silently against two quaggoths, slamming his mace into their ribs again and again. He was splattered with much blood. (86)
At the far end of the cavern fought the remaining two against five quaggoths. The one on the left was very short and stocky. He wore armor of cured hide dyed gray. He wielded a great sword, which he used with great efficiency. The man was almost as broad as he was tall, with black hair cut short in the front and long and stringy in the back. He had olive-skin, and a permanent grimace. Over his armor he wore a cloak of wolf fur, the head of the former animal serving as an intimidating hood. (87)
The last man was noted for his endless stream of profanity that spewed from his mouth in a cadence that went with the music, filling up the spaces between notes, syncopating the rhythm. It was a foul and degrading string of words and insults that would make a sailor squirm. He had wavy blonde hair and a thick mustache. He wore a chain shirt, and black leather breeches and tall boots. He fought with a long sword in one hand and a short sword in the other, and whirled them around with a proficiency that made Jeremy feel envious. (88)
The Neergaardian threw a dagger at one of the quaggoths attacking the bard, but the blade went wide.
The quaggoths noticed their additional adversaries and one ran Jeremy, who ducked the club as he drew his short sword. Another ripped into the bard, whose song never stopped. The squat barbarian with the great sword roared in pain, as one of the quaggoths cracked his head with a heavy blow that made him spit blood and teeth at his opponents.
The bard hit a high note as he hit the quaggoths still on him (as the other had gone after Jeremy), while Ratchis smashed the skull one by the tall lanky man of the other with his war hammer.
“Where’d you come from?” the man asked the half-orc, bewildered.
“Nephthys sent me!” Ratchis replied, setting his sights on the other quaggoths trying to relieve the tall man of his pancreas.
“Nephthys? I thought we were supposed to go to you to hide!” the man said, cryptically.
Martin the Green pulled a bit of loose wool from his cloak and with a gesture and a word, a creature of black shadow appeared before him and charged through the melee. One of the quaggoths, followed it with its eyes, but none seemed willing to leave their prey to pursue the phantasm.
The barbarian’s great sword emerged from the back of one of the quaggoths and it fell to the stone floor shuddering, while the heavily armored man cracked the skull of another – but it kept on fighting.
“I like your song,” Jeremy called to the bard, drawing blood from the creature before him. “It is good music to fight by!”
Kazrack moved to Jeremy’s side to help flank the creature the bard still struggled with.
The blonde man with two blades was a blur of action, striking again, with his long sword, feinting with his short sword and striking a second time with his long sword. One of the quaggoths before him collapsed in a pile of blood-soaked fur.
The lanky man ran from the quaggoths Ratchis was trying to help him with, dodging the opportunistic blows of quaggoths, as he took a safe spot beside the barbarian, and pulled out his bow.
Meanwhile, Tirhas was firing arrows at the back of quaggoths, being careful not to strike her temporary companions, or the five men, but her efforts were for naught.
A quaggoths struck the bard again, and this time the young man did stop singing, crying out in pain instead. It was a cry that was echoed by the barbarian, and by Jeremy who took a particularly bad blow to his neck. He could feel his blood pouring under his chain shirt and soaking his clothing.
Jana cast her daze spell on a quaggoths fighting the heavily armored man, while Ratchis stepped over and crushed the ribs of the one the tall man left behind. It fell. The heavily armored man, slammed the dazed quaggoths with his mace, but it still would not go down.
Kazrack continued to aid the bard.
By now the companions realized that these five men were the same they had met at the Sun’s Summit Inn in the alder-village of Summit, months before. (89)
End of Session #23
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Notes:
(82) The Ogre Scar is a great rent in the earth in the middle of Gothanius, known for the presence of ogres.
(83) Silverback is a half-breed ogre/frost giant. Special Thanks to the Rat Bastard’s Club for their help in detailing him.
(84) This bard is called Frederick the Amazing.
(85) The lanky man’s name is Rondar.
(86) The heavily armored man is called Aldovar
(87) This barbarian is called Debo.
(88) This blonde, loud man is called Gunthar.
(89) See Session #14
“Quaggoths?” asked Ratchis.
“These are quaggoths,” Tirhas said. “They are the willing slaves of drow.”
“What are they doing here?” Kazrack asked. “I thought this place was supposed to be inhabited by ogres.”
“I do not know,” replied Tirhas.
From beyond the cavern they were now in they all heard a strange cry interrupted by a snarl. Maritn shivered.
‘Perhaps Rahasia summoned them,” Kazrack mused.
“From what I know of summoning magics she would have to be close by to have done that,” Martin the Green said.
“And these are the same creatures that made those tracks we found,” Ratchis said. “Could she summon them permanently.”
“I meant that she called from them,” Kazrack clarified.
“They dwell in the Plutonic Realms. It would be a long way for them to come in so short a time,” said Tirhas. “And Ethiel did not mention a passage to the Plutonic Realms from the Honeycombe.”
“That doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” said Ratchis. “Come on, let’s check out that sound in the next cavern.”
Again, Ratchis crept forward, while the others hung back. The next cavern was also sunken, its floor several feet below the last cavern, but it was also much bigger. The hulking ranger leapt down into the cavern and saw that to his left, the chamber was a series of plateaus that lead to a dark passageway in that direction. To his right, a dry channel was cut into the floor about eight to ten feet deep and running parallel with the room. It disappeared into a dark hole in the direction he had come from. There was also another out across from where the came from, but it Ratchis’ darkvision did not have the range to penetrate the darkness over there. The floor and ceiling were an obstacle course of stalactites and stalagmites.
On the floor about forty feet away, Ratchis saw the body of a large humanoid, which would have been over nine feet tall, if it still had a head, but it didn’t.
Ratchis relayed what he saw to the others and they came into the chamber. “We could easily be ambushed in here, so stay alert,” said Ratchis.
“What is that thing?” Jeremy asked pointing to the body.
“It’s an ogre, or it was anyway,” replied Ratchis. “Anyone else hear that?”
It was the sound of deep labored breathing coming from passageway to the left. The breath rattled every few seconds.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Jeremy.
“I bet it is a wounded ogre,” said Kazrack. “I think those quaggoth things and the ogres are at war or something.”
“Perhaps the quaggoths are clearing this place to claim it for the drow,” Martin suggested.
Tirhas nodded her head.
Ratchis placed a hand on Kazrack’s shoulder, “Nephthys, grant this dwarf with some portion of your divine strength so that he may do his part to the word free of the evil influence of the drow and their slaves.”
Kazrack felt the new strength course through him, but still weakened by the spider venom, he was still not as strong as he normally was.
“I am going to check out that breathing,” Ratchis said.
“We’ll come with you,” said Kazrack.
“No, just be ready for if I need your help,” said Ratchis.
“Fine, we’ll just get closer to the passage, and you can go parley with the beast,” Kazrack turned to Jeremy and Tirhas. “Can you two give me a hand up to that plateau if there is trouble? I’m not so good at climbing?”
Jeremy nodded, but Tirhas did not reply.
Ratchis hoisted himself up to the level where the passageway, and quietly moved down it. It immediately curved to the left and narrowed a great deal. Soon, Ratchis was in the dark by himself, out of sight of the rest of the party.
The breathing was louder, closer, but its source was still out of view. He moved slowly forward, and still the passageway curved, and just as it turned back at a sharp angle, he heard the deep resonating voice, still breathy emerge from beyond.
“I heard you talking,” it said. The voice was slow and steady, each syllable like the blow of a hammer of in a windy room. “I can smell you, orc-blood.”
“Can we parley?” Ratchis called in a hushed voice.
“What?” the voice said.
“Can we parley?” Ratchis asked again, as he crept forward some more. Sitting in an alcove where the corridor turned, was a huge figure. Over twelve feet tall, he was hunched over, and a huge battle axe was across his knees. He wore the fur of a gray bear over his huge chain shirt. He has pallid, almost frosted blue skin, and long white hair. The giant’s shoulders were twice as broad as Ratchis’, but where his eyes should have been, where just bloody holes, circled by crusty rust-colored discharge.
“What do you mean?” the giant asked.
“Can we just talk?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes… Don’t think that just because I cannot see does not mean I cannot kill you. You know I will,” the giant said, his head cocking trying to pin-point the half-orc’s position. “What are orcs doing in the tunnels? Are you working for the shaggy-ones?”
“No,” Ratchis replied. “I am the only half-orc here that I know of. I am here with several humans and a dwarf searching for an elven woman. We were surprised to find these shaggy things here. We thought there were ogres down here.”
“There were ogres down here. I was their chieftain until my own people turned against me,” the giant said.
“You were attacked by an ogre?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes, my own people turned against me,” the hulking form said through a ragged cough. “I decreed that we would leave the Honeycombe when shaggy-ones began to arrive an endanger us. I thought we should flee to the Scar (82), but the young among my tribe wanted to stay and fight. They punished me for what they saw as cowardice, but I saw as being pragmatic. They poked out my eyes and left me wander the caves until the shaggy ones killed me. They wanted to war with the beasts and now my people are slaughtered. The central chamber, which housed my tribe has already been taken over. It is crawling with those things.”
There was a long pause, where the only sound was the labored breathing of the giant.
“I love the sound of a crunching skull as much as the next person,” the giant continued. “But the survival of our tribe was more important, but I don’t think they could ever see that. So now all that there is left for me to do is find my way to the central chamber and die killing as many of those things as I can before I go. I hope that I should be blessed enough by the gods to kill their leader before I die.”
“Who is there leader?” Ratchis asked.
“I do not know,” answered the giant. “But they have got to have a leader they are too organized to not have one.”
“What is you name?” Ratchis asked. “I am called Ratchis.”
“My name is Silverback (83). At least, that’s what it would be in this tongue. Have you met many of these creatures I speak of?”
“Three,” replied Ratchis.
“Only three? I’ve never encountered them in groups of less than eight, or maybe six,” Silverback said.
“I have to go and tell my companions that I am safe and that you pose us no danger,” said Ratchis. “Perhaps you can lead us to this central chamber?”
“If you wish to accompany me to death in battle, by all means, it will make my hear swell that that many more of these beasts were killed by my doing,” Silverback said. He almost smiled.
Ratchis went back and told the others about the old giant.
“Will he bring us to the central chamber?” Kazrack asked. “The drow is most likely making her way there if she is not there already.”
“Yes, he will bring us, but he makes it sound like there are too many there for us to hope to deal with,” explained Ratchis. “Perhaps if we could sneak in and find her and grab her and get out… somehow…”
“I don’t know how you expect us to survive an assault on a place teeming with those quaggoth things when they have a drow witch on their side,” Martin said flustered.
“Can we trust the creature?” Tirhas asked, her face scrunched up in a look of disgust.
“I think we can,” replied Ratchis.
They decided to all climb up to the plateau and come speak with Silverback. They found him moved from his place, to the narrow corridor that ran perpendicular to the one they followed.
“I am going,” he said, his heavy breath keeping a dirge-like rhythm for his words to rest against.
“Will you lead us to the central chamber?” Ratchis asked.
“Yes, I know a secret way. I know this place better than all my people. Only I among them know this place was once a fortress for the dark race of elves, and I have found some of their tunnels,” Silverback said.
“Yes, we are looking for an elf, an elven maiden. I mentioned her before,” Ratchis asked. “have you seen her?”
“I have seen no elf,” Silverback replied. “Then again, I have not seen much of anything for these past many days. I’ve only heard the cries of my people as they are torn apart by the beasts. My only comfort is in that their last thoughts they must think of how they should have listened to me. And the young upstarts that did this to me are dead!” His voice rose up like deep operatic horn, his tense muscles spasming with anger.
The party looked at the giant ogre nervously.
“I am going now,” Silverback continued. Follow if you will, the way is long and winding, but I can bring you to a place where you may be able to observe the central chamber before you enter it and perhaps take them by surprise ere morning – when I will kill as many as I can before I am killed.”
Silverback, crouched and pointing one shoulder before the other, led the party down the narrow winding passage that slowly climbed up and up and up. For such a big creature in a small place, and for being blind, Silverback moved with great speed and confidence. His feet did not falter once. Of course, in many places where the giant must squeeze through the companions were able to pass through quite easily.
After traveling nearly an hour like this, they felt cold air rush through the narrow tunnel. Martin stopped and refilled the lantern with oil, and then they emerged at the edge of huge cliff, which was just one side of an immense underground canyon. The drop off to their left as they emerged sank into what seemed like endless and impenetrable darkness. Above them the ceiling stretched away by score of feet, but thankfully the cliff side opened up a bit right ahead, where there was a wide opening to the right, from which a bouncing light emerged.
Light?
“Listen,” Slverback said, stepping to one side to let the other out of the narrow corridor. “Do you hear that?”
From the opening ahead and to the light from whence the light emerged, there was the sound of battle and human voices mixed together with the snarls, barks and roaring hoots of quaggoths.
“Ugh! Agh! Ugh! Get back!” cried one voice, each syllable punctuating the clang of a sword blade, or the squeal in pain of one of those creatures. “Look out! There is another hairy muthalova over there!”
“Damn! There’s two on me,” called another whiny voice.
And behind it all was a voice singing very loudly and rhythmically. “Though she was such a mess, I pull off her dress and threw her in bed and kept her well fed with sausages, breadcrumbs and grapes! With sausages, breadcrumbs and grapes!” It was a catchy bawdy tune that seemed to flow well with the drumbeat of battle.
The party ran forward, but Silverback hung back not wanting to reveal himself. Ratchis reached the opening first followed by Jeremy. Martin and Jana ran past the opening, the latter taking some cover from the wall on the opposite side. Tirhas, bow in hand went to the center of the opening, while Kazrack took up the rear.
In the opening there was a group of five human men out-numbered by quaggoths. The men seemed experienced warriors, as they had spread out in a nice circle from which they could get to each other, but so they had their backs to the walls as to avoid being surrounded.
Closest to Ratchis was the singing man, he was of slight build, and had wavy light brown hair and a soft handsomeness that was emphasized by his palpable dislike of being underground and dirty, but he fought well with a long sword, slapping the two quaggoths back deftly and avoiding their blows – fighting in a brown waistcoat and breeches – no armor. (84)
Across the cavern from him, facing two quaggoths himself, was a tall and lanky man in leather armor fighting with a long sword as well, but he seemed to be struggling more, and he displayed several deep wounds in his right side and shoulder. He had dark brown curly hair, and bad skin. He had a slack-jawed look to him and he whined the whole time he was fighting, “I need some healing over here!” (85)
Beside the lanky man, was broad man of good height, dressed in splint mail and bearing a heavy mace and a shield. From the shield shone the light that illuminated the cavern, and it also bore the insignia of a scepter held in a black hand and bathed in flame. He wore a full helm with a tassel of black sticking up from the top. He fought silently against two quaggoths, slamming his mace into their ribs again and again. He was splattered with much blood. (86)
At the far end of the cavern fought the remaining two against five quaggoths. The one on the left was very short and stocky. He wore armor of cured hide dyed gray. He wielded a great sword, which he used with great efficiency. The man was almost as broad as he was tall, with black hair cut short in the front and long and stringy in the back. He had olive-skin, and a permanent grimace. Over his armor he wore a cloak of wolf fur, the head of the former animal serving as an intimidating hood. (87)
The last man was noted for his endless stream of profanity that spewed from his mouth in a cadence that went with the music, filling up the spaces between notes, syncopating the rhythm. It was a foul and degrading string of words and insults that would make a sailor squirm. He had wavy blonde hair and a thick mustache. He wore a chain shirt, and black leather breeches and tall boots. He fought with a long sword in one hand and a short sword in the other, and whirled them around with a proficiency that made Jeremy feel envious. (88)
The Neergaardian threw a dagger at one of the quaggoths attacking the bard, but the blade went wide.
The quaggoths noticed their additional adversaries and one ran Jeremy, who ducked the club as he drew his short sword. Another ripped into the bard, whose song never stopped. The squat barbarian with the great sword roared in pain, as one of the quaggoths cracked his head with a heavy blow that made him spit blood and teeth at his opponents.
The bard hit a high note as he hit the quaggoths still on him (as the other had gone after Jeremy), while Ratchis smashed the skull one by the tall lanky man of the other with his war hammer.
“Where’d you come from?” the man asked the half-orc, bewildered.
“Nephthys sent me!” Ratchis replied, setting his sights on the other quaggoths trying to relieve the tall man of his pancreas.
“Nephthys? I thought we were supposed to go to you to hide!” the man said, cryptically.
Martin the Green pulled a bit of loose wool from his cloak and with a gesture and a word, a creature of black shadow appeared before him and charged through the melee. One of the quaggoths, followed it with its eyes, but none seemed willing to leave their prey to pursue the phantasm.
The barbarian’s great sword emerged from the back of one of the quaggoths and it fell to the stone floor shuddering, while the heavily armored man cracked the skull of another – but it kept on fighting.
“I like your song,” Jeremy called to the bard, drawing blood from the creature before him. “It is good music to fight by!”
Kazrack moved to Jeremy’s side to help flank the creature the bard still struggled with.
The blonde man with two blades was a blur of action, striking again, with his long sword, feinting with his short sword and striking a second time with his long sword. One of the quaggoths before him collapsed in a pile of blood-soaked fur.
The lanky man ran from the quaggoths Ratchis was trying to help him with, dodging the opportunistic blows of quaggoths, as he took a safe spot beside the barbarian, and pulled out his bow.
Meanwhile, Tirhas was firing arrows at the back of quaggoths, being careful not to strike her temporary companions, or the five men, but her efforts were for naught.
A quaggoths struck the bard again, and this time the young man did stop singing, crying out in pain instead. It was a cry that was echoed by the barbarian, and by Jeremy who took a particularly bad blow to his neck. He could feel his blood pouring under his chain shirt and soaking his clothing.
Jana cast her daze spell on a quaggoths fighting the heavily armored man, while Ratchis stepped over and crushed the ribs of the one the tall man left behind. It fell. The heavily armored man, slammed the dazed quaggoths with his mace, but it still would not go down.
Kazrack continued to aid the bard.
By now the companions realized that these five men were the same they had met at the Sun’s Summit Inn in the alder-village of Summit, months before. (89)
End of Session #23
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Notes:
(82) The Ogre Scar is a great rent in the earth in the middle of Gothanius, known for the presence of ogres.
(83) Silverback is a half-breed ogre/frost giant. Special Thanks to the Rat Bastard’s Club for their help in detailing him.
(84) This bard is called Frederick the Amazing.
(85) The lanky man’s name is Rondar.
(86) The heavily armored man is called Aldovar
(87) This barbarian is called Debo.
(88) This blonde, loud man is called Gunthar.
(89) See Session #14
The old giant chief, injured by his own subjects because he didn't want to fight against impossible odds, waitng in the dark to have a glorious death...
That was poetic, Nemmerle, I almost had a tear on my check when I read it...
The other grooups of adventurers, their description was a masterpiece
And some other minor details...
I cannot explain it, but this update was, for me, one of the best of all the story.
That was poetic, Nemmerle, I almost had a tear on my check when I read it...
The other grooups of adventurers, their description was a masterpiece
And some other minor details...
I cannot explain it, but this update was, for me, one of the best of all the story.
KidCthulhu
First Post
Horacio said:
Something very King Lear about the whole thing. It was a marvelous image.
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