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Session #35
Tholem,18th of Onk - 564 H.E.
Kazrack removed the stone beads he wore in his beard, and he climbed out of the hunting blind and to a thorny bush by a tree where he kneeled and prayed, his head laying on the prayer stone. He took no notice of the cold, unbeknownst to him because of Ratchis’ spell.
In the very early morning it was Ratchis and Jeremy watching again. Jana, Martin and Beorth rested in the blind.
“Do you think we’ll be able to track the gnolls? “ Jeremy asked the half-orc. “Plenty of snow on the ground.”
Ratchis snorted, “I don’t know.”
“You know, that thing, whatever it is, if it could be gnolls, it could be that owlbear, or any of them ponies,” Jeremy looked at Ratchis expecting a reply.
The ranger was silent.
“You never can just talk like a normal person can you?” Jeremy asked, snidely. “It is either pulling teeth or barking orders with you.”
“Jeremy, why don’t you climb up and get some rest,” was all Ratchis said. “Send Beorth down. Let the others rest.”
“Heh.”
Beorth climbed down soon after and Ratchis gave him his boots to wear.
“ Um, no thanks. I already have boots,” Beorth begged off politely.
“These will keep you warm,” Ratchis said.
“Mine are pretty warm. They have fur and everything,” Beorth replied nervously.
Ratchis sighed, “There are
magical,”
“Oh,” Beorth replied. “Perhaps we can take this time to discuss what to do next.”
Beorth pulled off his own boots and slipped on the boots of Uller. They seemed to conform to his size seamlessly as he laced them up. Ratchis put on his old boots which he carried in his over-stuffed pack.
“Jeremy was just talking about the same thing,” Ratchis said, his voice never lost a scratchy deep quality, like he was sucking back snot with every hard consonant. It was faint most of the time, but when he was angered or excited, it would become more prevalent.
“How will we find this thing?” Beorth asked.
”I would think that something so corrupt and alien would be…”Ratchis searched for the words. “That you’d be able to detect it with the sight given to you by your god.”
“I?” Beorth was taken aback. “You think so?”
“It appears to have the ability to take over bodies,” Ratchis said, changing the subject. “Dead creatures it seems to take over more easily.”
“Perhaps the blessings of your goddess will protect us from a creature that can take over bodies,” Beorth mused.
“If we are going to be here much longer we are going to need a fire,” Ratchis said, and walked off to collect wood.
Up in the blind, Jana, Martin and Jeremy slept. Thomas was tucked under Martin’s chin, shivering.
Suddenly there was a resounding crack in the woods. Silence.
“What in the Hells was that?” Jana cried, sitting up.
There was another crack and then another, like wood being split apart. Jeremy opened the hatch on the hunting blind.
“What’s going on?” The Neergaardian called out, squinting in the morning sun. “Ratchis? Is Ratchis in trouble?”
He looked down and saw Kazrack kneeling beneath a nearby tree.
“Kazrack! Kazrack!” he called, but the dwarf ignored him. “Did you see anything?”
Jeremy sighed, and grabbing his weapon belt climbed down the rope ladder.
Ratchis was smashing up a tree with an extra long sword. It was one he had appropriated from the Ogre’s Bluff town guards (162)
“I thought a fire would attract gnolls,” Jeremy said.
“Better than freezing to death,” Ratchis grunted.
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
Ratchis was really letting the small dead tree have it. He hacked over and over again, until he was basically hammering it into firewood because the blade became so dull.
Jana had climbed down as well.
“Ratchis, do you need help?’ she asked.
“No.”
An hour later Ratchis had a huge fire roaring in the biggest open space he could find in front of the blind. He stacked the wood, and kept it fed all day.
The day passed without event. Beorth wandered back from praying, while Kazrack never moved at all. Even after the sun had set he merely unrolled his blanket by the prayer stone and slept there, shivering occasionally. When he was certain the dwarf was asleep Ratchis cast a blessing of warmth on the dwarf.
Everyone slept around the tall fire. Martin and Beorth took the first watch. Beorth was silent.
Martin entertained himself by talking with Thomas.
“Feeling better Thomas?” the Watch-mage asked his familiar. He had been complaining of the cold all day.
“I dunno,” Thomas chittered, and licked his little forepaws. “The fire is nice, but I am so tired.”
“Why don’t you take a nap?” Martin suggested.
“But I’m
not sleepy!” Thomas’ tone grew anxious. “I am tired. Tired, tired, tired, but sleep doesn’t come. Just like the thing with the nuts!”
Martin stroked his head comfortingly.
“Shall I tell you a story to pass the time?” Martin asked the squirrel.
“Yeah, yeah! Yeah, yeah!” Thomas nodded his head up and down, blowing out his cheeks in joy.
“Once upon a time there was a giant squirrel who was a king in the Second Age,” Martin began.
“How big was he?”
“Ten feet from head to tail,” Martin replied with a smile. It suddenly struck him how much he really loved this little brown squirrel imbued with a part of himself.
“Wow!” Thomas said. “How did he climb trees?”
“Trees were bigger then.”
“Can you cast a spell to make me bigger?” Thomas inquired, cocking his head.
“No, not yet,” Martin replied, mentally. “But some day.”
“You know, I like trees, but I am beginning to think inns are better,” Thomas said, longingly. “I’m really cold!”
“I know, Thomas,” Martin sighed. “We’ll be back to civilization soon.”
“Tell me the rest of the story.”
And so nearly two hours went on like this, until finally Martin had to throw more wood on the fire. He crept over to the woodpile, careful not to step in the puddles of melted snow in the area they had cleared, or on any of his sleeping companions.
We he looked up at the woodpile, not more than twenty feet away stood a dwarf. Martin did a double-take, looking over at the sleeping Kazrack and back to the motionless dwarf.
They stood there perhaps a full minute just looking at each other. Finally, the dwarf began to step forward.
“Beorth!” Martin called in a harsh whisper.
“You’re fire looks warm,” the dwarf said in a voice much deeper and raspier than Kazrack’s ever was. “May I share it?”
The polite request was replied in kind before the watch-mage knew what he was saying. Politeness becomes habit when one learns diplomacy.
The dwarf stepped more clearly into the light of the fire. He wore a dyed dark green fur cloak, green breeches, and a white shirt under his chain shirt, which was covered by a brown fur vest. He had wild red hair, and while his beard was well-groomed, his hair was natty in places (nearly as bad as Ratchis’). The dwarf wore two hand axes dangling at his side, and a short bow strapped to his pack. He wore no hat.
Beorth walked over to see what Martin had been so excited about. He was taken aback by the sight of the dwarf removing his gloves and warming his calloused hands by the fire.
“Oh,” the paladin said. “You’ve invited a guest?”
“It seemed the hospitable thing to do,” Martin shrugged his shoulders. He addressed the dwarf. “I am called Martin. Martin the Green.”
“Helrahd,” the dwarf chirped like an obese owl.
The two companions were quiet, not sure if he had spoken his name or not.
Beorth introduced himself as well.
“Is that Kazrack?” Helrahd asked, pointing at the more familiar dwarf’s sleeping form.
“Yes,” Beorth said, furrowing his brow.
“Harumph,” Helrahd said. His every move and breath seemed accompanied by a grunt or a smack, as if he were constantly chewing on something that occasionally got stuck in his throat.
“You know Kazrack Delver?” Martin asked.
“No,” Helrahd replied.
There was silent surprise in response to this answer.
“Um, are you seeking Kazrack?” Beorth finally asked.
“Hmmm, yup.”
The offered Helrahd some food and drink. He politely refused.
“There’s a storm coming,” Helrahd said, looking up at the indigo sky.
“Do you know a better place we can stay?” Beorth asked.
“Not yet,” Helrahd replied. “I found signs of a battle up yonder. Was that you?”
“”Yes,” Martin replied. “We had trouble with gnolls and, uh… other things.”
Helrahd did no reply.
“It is our watch,” Beorth said. “You are welcome to sleep and be assured that you will be safe, Helron.”
“Helrahd.”
The dwarf laid out his pack and unrolled a bedroll, and laid down to sleep.
Beorth and Martin crept around to the other side of the fire.
“What do you think?” Martin whispered to Beorth, pointing in the general direction of their dwarven guest.
“I don’t know what to think, but surely we cannot deny a traveler shelter,” Beorth offered. (163)
“Of course not,” Martin sounded mildly offended. “Come the morning we will hear from Kazrack.”
Soon, it was time to wake Jeremy so that he might relieve Beorth.
“We have a guest,” Beorth said to Jeremy as the Neergaardian groggily rose.
“What? What do you mean?”
“A guest,” Beorth repeated. “Martin invited a dwarf to share our fire.”
“What is he doing out here by himself?” Jeremy asked, his suspicion rising.
“Ra only knows. He claims to know Kazrack.”
“How would he know Kazrack?” Jeremy voice was full of surprise and he had to hush himself to keep from waking the others. He continued more quietly. “Maybe he’s famous? Unless of course all dwarves just happen to know each other.”
Beorth went to sleep while Martin and Jeremy took the second watch. Martin mused aloud that the strange creature might be easier to find if they knew its motivations or goals.
”I think it wants to absorb the whole world,” Jeremy offered with a chuckle. “Though it had better pick up the pace if it wants to get it done any time soon.”
Martin rolled his eyes.
The evening passed with Jeremy trying to remember every detail he could about the dwarven caravan upon great lizards he had seen soon after first arriving in Derome-Delem (164).
Balem,19th of Onk – 564 H.E.
In the morning, Kazrack met Helrahd.
“Greetings Rock-brother!” Kazrack said. “Welcome to our camp!”
“Well met,” Helrahd replied in dwarven, and they grasped wrists shaking them roughly.
“Well met,” Kazrack repeated in the common tongue.
“Our meeting is most fortuitous,” Helrahd grunted in his bass voice. “I come from one {snort, hack} Belear.”
“His name is known to me,” Kazrack said. “For it was he who initiated me into the ways of the rune-throwers.”
“He has gathered us up to aid his friends and yours, the gnomes of Garvan, and sent me to find you, so you may join us as well,” Helrahd explained. He let a hawker fly.
“You said, ‘Us’?” Kazrack questioned.
“Our band from
Abarrane-Arbaruch is camped outside of Ogre’s Bluff,” Helrahd continued to speak in dwarven. The others looked up when he spoken the name of the town in common. “Their scrub-chin constable is a hassle; we’ve had to move camp several times.”
Kazrack explained to the rest of the party what Helrahd had said, and then introduced each of the party members with him, ending with Ratchis.
“…who I have chosen to call D’nar,” Kazrack said.
“He got pig blood?” Helrahd said, finally using his guttural spiting and choking common with Kazrack. It was not that he did not know the common tongue well, but as if it tasted bad in his mouth. When he spoke dwarven his words were more precise.
Ratchis looked up and Kazrack walked away, as if he did not hear the question.
“Can’t stay here,” Helrahd grunted. “I can lead us back to Ogre’s Bluff and our camp.”
“We cannot leave this general area,” Ratchis said. “I have sworn an oath to destroy this creature, this thing and so I must do it. My friends are aiding me.”
“What thing?” Helrahd asked.
“I do not know what it is, but it can take any shape, and even become multiple creatures at once and it can fly,” Ratchis was having trouble with words to describe it more specifically than that.
“Storm’s coming; need shelter,” Helrahd said, dropping the topic of conversation.
Ratchis looked at the sky and nodded. He had prepared enough spells to protect everyone from the cold except Helrahd, and proceeded to dole out his goddess’ blessing.
It was decided they would head back towards the pair of hills where they had seen the ponies and see if perhaps there might be a cave on the shearer of the faces, facing into the tiny vale.
Helrahd would accompany them. (165)
Kazrack hurriedly packed everyone’s stuff for them and then offered to carry Martin’s pack.
Martin thanked the dwarf with a smile.
Helrahd grunted. He also keep shifting his gaze over to Jana and squinting, as if he were trying to see through her, or examine her more carefully.
At one point in the journey she noticed the new dwarf and Kazrack talking in quieter tones and both their eyes drifted to her at different points.
The snow began to fall after they had marched an hour and in less than in hour from then, when they reached the hills, it was obscuring visibility pretty badly and piling up fast, covering the snow from a week or so before.
Ratchis urged everyone to double their pace. They clambered down into the miniature vale to for it looked like there might be a path up that side of the hill where they figure a cave would be (and out of the direction of the wind, conveniently).
“Martin?” Jeremy asked the illusionist.
“Yes?”
“Can owlbears fly?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.”
Ratchis made out what could be a way up the hill , but left the rest of the party waiting down a ways. He brought Jeremy along, since the Neergaardian was a good climber and good at judging what might be too difficult for the others.
At first the path up was not so bade, slippery in parts, but even falling would not have been so dangerous, but after about 30 yards, the path suddenly ended. There was a slippery five foot verticle climb. Ratchis boosted Jeremy up, and the handsome young man, now grizzled with a blonde beard, glinting red in place, made his way another dozen yards to an even steeper climb. He signaled back to Ratchis that he was going to climb and check it out.
Ratchis gave him the thumbs up and then hoisted himself up the first climb and moved in that direction. Jeremy stood there trying to find the best way to climb the steep 25 foot incline with his bare hands, but Ratchis tied a rope to grapple and tossing it up a few times finally caught on to something solid. He handed the rope to Jeremy, who smiled and happily climbed up.
The snowfall grew only harder, and Jeremy had to blink flakes out of his eyes. He pulled his arms and shoulders over the top, and could see that up here was a small plateau with a single tall fir adjacent to higher plateau another fifteen feet up, but his plateau had a cave mouth; five feet high and several feet across.
“There’s a cave up here,” Jeremy said as he looked down to find a good place to hang on as he pulled a leg over.
By the time he heard the sound it was too late. Jeremy looked up just in time to see a huge bear come charging at him. He put his hands up and felt them get knocked back into his face as something hard and point scraped against his chest and knocking him backward.
“Whoa!”
Jeremy went sailing through the air. Ratchis saw him pass over his head, a trail of blood following his limp form.
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Notes:
(162) See Session #28 for that chaotic encounter involving the town guards, Richard the Red, Rindalith, the party and a manticore.
(163) I so wanted to make Martin respond,
“Of course, but don’t call me ‘Shirley’.”
(164) See Session #7 – When the party was passed upon the road to Stonebridge (leaving Bountiful) by a Nauglimir Dwarven Merchant Consortium.
(165) For this session, Helrahd was played by a guest-player, Sean Teasdale (DM of the upcoming “Promised Land” Aquerra campaign).