el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #78 (part i)
Isilem, the 16th of Keent – 565 H.E.
Morning came with cold rain, and mist drifted lazily across the valley. The Keepers of the Gate were slow to get moving. Roland and Logan went out to scout, the former in panther form. Roland checking outside of the valley below the ridge, and the latter atop it. The others discussed spell choices, Martin’s ability to reconnoiter with magic, and the availability of components for important spells like invisibility.
Around two hours after awaking and preparing spells, while Roland and Logan were still gone, they heard the hurried hoofbeats of horses outside of the valley ridge. They galloped past loudly to the east, and then were gone. Soon after, Roland and Logan returned.
“There were three riders,” Logan said. “They wore burgundy cloaks and ring mail armor. They were riding fast.”
“Yes, the horses had the smell to them like they were lathered,” Roland explained, changing back to human form. “They had been pushed hard of late.”
“Those are Gothanius’ colors,” Martin said. “But Gothanius has no standing army.”
“The militia was being roused when we left here,” Ratchis reminded the Watch-mage. “And with everything going on, the king may have hired some more mercenaries.” (1)
“There seems to be an awful lot going on around here,” commented Dorn, wringing out the knit cap he often wore to keep his balding head warm.
“Now you know why our stories are so convoluted,” Ratchis snorted. “Anyway, if there are riders around we should wait until closer to nightfall to head out. There is less chance to be seen, and we are more likely to hear them before they do us. That is, if people can remember to be quiet.”
“Gunthar isn’t here, I think we can manage,” said Logan. “Though, if you had let me cut out his tongue that wouldn’t be a problem either.”
Ratchis ignored him.
“I can use this delay to finish my studying of the darkvision spell,” Martin said. “Now if Ratchis could find me some wild carrots for the component.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” the half-orc ranger replied.
Many hours later they headed out, making their way down the ridge and then eastward around it to turn north, hoping to find an easy place to make their way back up well north of Summit.
The damp was still in the air, but clouds had parted, revealing a gray waning moon and the twinkling lights of the Dolphin. (2)
“So your father’s a watch-mage?” Dorn asked Logan.
“Yep.”
“Ever consider taking up the study of magic yourself?”
“I was not the one with the aptitude for it in my family,” Logan replied.
“So others do?”
“Yes.” Logan’s answers were often brief.
“All my family are sailors and dock-workers,” Dorn said.
”Not a bad life,” Logan said.
“But not a good one, either,” Dorn said. “Not for me, anyway. It always bothered me that my family risked everything to escape servitude, but now they serve some other men for a few coppers.”
“Well, you serve Ratchis,” Logan said.
“That’s out of respect,” Dorn said, snapping a bit. “That’s because Nephthys showed me something the day Ratchis and the others rescued me and my former companions.”
“Well… I’m glad you’ve found a way of life that agrees with you,” Logan said, getting uncomfortable with religious talk. “Will you join the priesthood?”
“Maybe. I have thought about it. Maybe after this Maze-thing. If I even go in… Still not sure about that.”
“Me, too,” Logan admitted.
“I figure, if the danger to the world is so great, someone needs to stay outside and give warning if something goes wrong,” Dorn reasoned. He looked right at Logan. “Is that cowardly?”
“Not if its for practical reason,” Logan replied. “It is not to avoid getting hurt, but then again I don’t want to get blasted into the Abyss either.”
“Well, let’s pray to Nephthys we won’t,” Dorn laughed.
At the front of the line, Ratchis and Kazrack talked quietly.
“When we meet Richard the Red again, you will need to control yourself,” Ratchis was telling the dwarf.
“Why do you need to tell me to control myself?” the dwarf asked annoyed.
“Because you’ve lashed out at him in the past.”
“That was before we agreed to converse with him,” Kazrack replied. “Though I do still think it will come to a fight. He will either try to stop us from going to the Maze, or want to follow us or something, and it will come to conflict.”
“I don’t think so,” said Ratchis.
“If it does, we need to make sure we use non-lethal means of stopping him,” Martin reminded them.
As they came to where the forest ended and the great valley that made up most of Gothanius appeared to the east, they veered north to stay in the cover of the many pine trees that grew there, marching parallel to the trail, but a quarter mile off of it.
Ratchis heard a horse behind them on the trail. Quickly, Martin the Green created an illusory thicket between two trees and the party crouched there. The horse trotted up the trail adjacent to them. It whinnied and stopped and seemed to move around in a circle and break through some brush and stop and neigh and let out a frustrated breath, and then turn again. It rode off, but even as Martin was about to let the illusion down it came back.
Frowning, Ratchis signaled the others to remain hidden and he crept out to see.
There was a horse, alright, but it was riderless, though it had a saddle. It was skittish at first, but Ratchis clucked his tongue and cooed to it, letting it see him, and soon it calmed down and let him take the reins. He could see it had a black feathered arrow hanging painfully from its rear flank.
Ratchis healed the horse, and then called to the others.
“This is strange,” Martin said. “First the other riders, now this horse? And yet, everywhere we have traveled in Gothanius there have not been many horses. Ponies? Oxen? Yes. But not many horses.”
“It makes sense that they would save their horses for military use,” Roland speculated.
“It’s an orc arrow,” Ratchis said.
Ratchis stroked the horse’s face and whispered in its ear, and fed it a wild carrot he had found earlier for Martin. He called to Nephthys to grant him the ear and tongue to talk with the horse.
“Where do you come from?” the half-orc asked the horse.
The animal neighed and its eyes opened wide and for a second it was frightened again.
“The rocky place where things go up,” it said.
“What happened to your master?” Ratchis asked.
“The rain that kills,” the horse replied, and this time it pulled away nervously, and took a moment before nuzzling up to the ranger again.
“Did you smell many creatures?”
“Smelled like you,” the horse said. “But not.”
“How many?”
“A herd.”
“How many rode with you?” Ratchis asked.
“Four hooves and one,” the horse said.
“And how long did you ride before you came under the rain?”
“Many waters and many grazings. Light and dark and light and dark.”
“How many times, light and dark?”
“Several.”
“Did you see those who smelled like me?” Ratchis asked.
“Saw.”
“Was it a camp with food and fire? Or on a road?”
“Not camp. Not road. Tree place. Not road. Not home.”
“Did the others stop to care for your master?” Ratchis asked.”
“Run! Run!” the horse jerked its head nervously and then looked at Ratchis. “Smart. Run.”
Ratchis continued to soothe the horse, taking its saddle off of it, as he explained to others what the horse had said. He then slapped it on the rump and it went running off to the east.
“It will return to its stable eventually,” he said. “Whatever orcs did this, they are days away and are of no concern of ours.”
“For now,” Kazrack added. Ratchis nodded.
“Demons, watch-mages, drow elves, giants, monks and now orcs,” Logan sighed. He scratched his chin. “This sure is complicated. What do the monks want again?”
”They want to bring back their god Rahkefet,” Martin said. “They say they want to talk to Anubis, but they really want to return power to their new patron, the ‘Lord of the Astray’.”
“And they plan to do that in the Maze?” Roland asked.
“Yes,” Martin replied. “We can assume there will be portals there to many of the extra-planar realm… There is a sensor there!” He pointed over Ratchis’ head. The emerald wizard closed his eyes and projected his will through the sensor, forcing the fog of space and time apart to let him see who it was who watched them.
“Richard again?” Kazrack’s voice was far away to the watch-mage. He could see a small green figure, with scaly skin all over its face and bright green and white hair that sprung out of its head. The thing squeezed its big warty nose and traced a black clawed finger over a frosted crystal ball. It looked up and smiled with snarling teeth.
Martin cast the vision aside and opened his eyes, startled.
“Mozek…” he coughed.
“Everyone quiet!” Ratchis said.
“Could you see where he was?” Kazrack asked.
“Some thorny place, like inside a hollowed out bush or something,” Martin said, he grasped his arms about his body and shivered. The image of Chance’s brain being scooped from its skull and smashed into Mozek’s maw flashed in the watch-mage’s mind. “He is still watching.”
“Let him watch,” Ratchis said. “He is still going to die crying for his mother like his brothers all have.”
Dorn shot Ratchis a strange look.
“There is no mercy for fiends,” the half-orc said. Kazrack nodded.
“Is Mozek the one that looks like a monkey?” Logan asked.
“No, he is uglier than a monkey,” the dwarf said.
“You are thinking of Mitha-gogol,” Martin said. The sensor disappeared. “It is gone.”
They marched on, and not too long after Kazrack said, “I still think this is a bad idea. This is certainly a trap. We should have made conditions on how we would meet him. A neutral place.”
“A temple of Bast suits me fine,” said Roland.
“But one of your order is with him, that gives us no advantage,” Kazrack said. “If only Martin could talk to him and arrange something differently.”
“Well, one way he can talk to Richard is by going and talking to him, which is what we are doing,” Roland said, his voice rising in pitch as he let his annoyance with Kazrack show in his attitude, rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue and pursing his lips.
“It would be good if we could meet them outside of the temple, instead of in it,” Ratchis said.
“Okay, I will send Norena a sending,” Roland said.
“You can do that?” Martin asked amazed.
“Yes,” the Bastite said. “When we camp, I will do so.”
Ratchis found them a thick brush to crawl under and sleep the day away before the sun was up.
Roland cast out his sending to Norena:
Norena, we know Richard the Red is there, companions concerned and need assurances, an agreement to meet outside temple. More information an issue before continuing, please respond.
Back came the response:
Imperative you come to temple and talk with Richard. No need to be concerned. Come talk. If no agreement, then leave freely.
“She is not exactly being cooperative,” Roland told the others.
“Then we attack,” Kazrack said. “Let’s not give them a chance to spring their trap.”
“Kazrack, I will not further desecrate that temple of my goddess by being part of an assault on it,” Roland said.
“It is a stupid plan,” said Ratchis. “But I am willing to vote on it.”
“Grrrr! Vote!” Kazrack barked and then he crawled out of the brush and sulked off.
“You do know you have the leadership position of this party,” Roland told Ratchis.
“I disagree,” Ratchis said.
“Deny it to yourself if you like, but it does not change the fact,” Roland insisted. “You called the vote.”
“Anyone could have called the vote,” Ratchis replied.
“But you were the one who did, and the only one who does as far as I have seen,” Roland said. “But I mean this as an accolade, you are doing a good job.”
Ratchis grunted, and went to talk with Kazrack.
“Were they always like an old married couple?” Logan asked Martin.
“They always butt heads. It was different when Beorth was around,” Martin replied. “He provided a third head to butt.”
“I almost wish Gunthar was here,” said Dorn.
“I don’t!” Roland spat. The dwarf and the half-orc returned having smoothed over their disagreement. Soon they were all sleeping hidden in the brush.
Osilem, the 17th of Keent – 565 H.E.
The rain returned as the sky lightened from black to ashen gray, the world seemed all the same color. Ratchis woke Logan and they crawled out from under the brush, and went off to scout around down by the trail they would have normally followed.
The larger valley that made up Gothanius rolled out below them as they crept from tree to shrub, to stay hidden. Visibility was limited, but there was another small wood a mile or so eastward, and just beyond it was what appeared to be tents and wagons. There was the sound of a horn from atop the ridge, so Ratchis and Logan hurried back towards the hidden camp. Crouched behind trees they saw a group of armored riders picking their way down the ridge, their horses making progress skittishly. They were escorting some people with sacks, bags and wheelbarrows. There were women and children among them.
“Looks like they are evacuating Summit,” Ratchis told the others when they had awakened.
“Given what is happening in Greenreed Valley that seems like a wise course of action,” Roland said. They decided to wait before moving on, in case more riders and refugees came down the ridge to the nearby trail.
It was nearly evening when they were marching again, climbing the black stone hill that flanked the eastern ridge wall. A cold rain was falling again, and it slipped backward and forward to and from ice, whipping horizontally every few minutes.
“Isn’t it summer?” Logan said through chattering teeth.
“End of summer,” Ratchis replied. “Up here winter comes quick.”
“So, what might I expect from this Richard character if it does come to a fight?” Logan asked, changing the subject.
“He can make you think he’s your best friend. He can travel instantly from place to place. He can create clouds of noxious gas that makes you fall over in a vomiting heap. He can summon monstrous creatures to do his bidding…” Martin rattled it all off.
“Wow…” Logan whistled. “Why can’t you be more like him?”
Martin frowned and his shoulders drooped, and he went on marching. The upward march was broken up by a few short climbs as the Keepers of the Gate hoisted themselves up over earthen shelves lined with outcroppings of slick crumbling slate, but finally there was a long march across a wide plateau of gray stone turned black with rain and mud.
“I think we can make camp over there,” Ratchis said, pointing to the darker shadow of tall rocks capped with brush. He talked loudly to be heard over the rain.
“What’s that?” Logan yelled, shielding his eyes to keep the rain out as he pointed to the northwest. A huge form was gliding down out of the clouds, and then with a flap of its wings made a wide bank back up from the south and around again as it came down. It flew in and out of their sight as it circled, the darkness of night creeping across the hill.
“We got company!” Logan cried diving behind a stone and drawing the composite bow Ratchis has lent him.
“Oh sh*t,” Martin muttered, casting shield and looking around for some cover. He went over to Logan and with a word and a wild carrot made the rogue able to see in the dark. Calls went up to the gods, as Ratchis, Roland and Kazrack all cast spells.
And down it came. It had a broad leonine body and huge bat-like wings, but did not have much of a tail. The thing’s draconic head seemed a little too far over on the left of its shoulders, but then they could see it had not one head, but two. On the other side was the head of a huge ferocious goat with blood red horns. But wait, no, there were three! For there in the center was a lion’s head with a great blood red mane and sharp teeth. The thing screeched and roared and bleated. Its eyes shone bright green and they could smell it as it approached, like sulfur and burning copper that stung the eyes and the back of the throat.
“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!” Dorn cried out, panic creeping into his voice. He backed away fumbling with his crossbow.
-------------------------------------------
Notes:
(1) The King hired mercenaries to survey the area north of Greenreed Valley and they came into conflict with the Garvan gnomes, leading to two very different accounts of what happened. (See Sessions #39 and #50.
(2) The Dolphin and the Squid are two constellations made up of eleven stars that move across the northern sky as the year passes.
Isilem, the 16th of Keent – 565 H.E.
Morning came with cold rain, and mist drifted lazily across the valley. The Keepers of the Gate were slow to get moving. Roland and Logan went out to scout, the former in panther form. Roland checking outside of the valley below the ridge, and the latter atop it. The others discussed spell choices, Martin’s ability to reconnoiter with magic, and the availability of components for important spells like invisibility.
Around two hours after awaking and preparing spells, while Roland and Logan were still gone, they heard the hurried hoofbeats of horses outside of the valley ridge. They galloped past loudly to the east, and then were gone. Soon after, Roland and Logan returned.
“There were three riders,” Logan said. “They wore burgundy cloaks and ring mail armor. They were riding fast.”
“Yes, the horses had the smell to them like they were lathered,” Roland explained, changing back to human form. “They had been pushed hard of late.”
“Those are Gothanius’ colors,” Martin said. “But Gothanius has no standing army.”
“The militia was being roused when we left here,” Ratchis reminded the Watch-mage. “And with everything going on, the king may have hired some more mercenaries.” (1)
“There seems to be an awful lot going on around here,” commented Dorn, wringing out the knit cap he often wore to keep his balding head warm.
“Now you know why our stories are so convoluted,” Ratchis snorted. “Anyway, if there are riders around we should wait until closer to nightfall to head out. There is less chance to be seen, and we are more likely to hear them before they do us. That is, if people can remember to be quiet.”
“Gunthar isn’t here, I think we can manage,” said Logan. “Though, if you had let me cut out his tongue that wouldn’t be a problem either.”
Ratchis ignored him.
“I can use this delay to finish my studying of the darkvision spell,” Martin said. “Now if Ratchis could find me some wild carrots for the component.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” the half-orc ranger replied.
Many hours later they headed out, making their way down the ridge and then eastward around it to turn north, hoping to find an easy place to make their way back up well north of Summit.
The damp was still in the air, but clouds had parted, revealing a gray waning moon and the twinkling lights of the Dolphin. (2)
“So your father’s a watch-mage?” Dorn asked Logan.
“Yep.”
“Ever consider taking up the study of magic yourself?”
“I was not the one with the aptitude for it in my family,” Logan replied.
“So others do?”
“Yes.” Logan’s answers were often brief.
“All my family are sailors and dock-workers,” Dorn said.
”Not a bad life,” Logan said.
“But not a good one, either,” Dorn said. “Not for me, anyway. It always bothered me that my family risked everything to escape servitude, but now they serve some other men for a few coppers.”
“Well, you serve Ratchis,” Logan said.
“That’s out of respect,” Dorn said, snapping a bit. “That’s because Nephthys showed me something the day Ratchis and the others rescued me and my former companions.”
“Well… I’m glad you’ve found a way of life that agrees with you,” Logan said, getting uncomfortable with religious talk. “Will you join the priesthood?”
“Maybe. I have thought about it. Maybe after this Maze-thing. If I even go in… Still not sure about that.”
“Me, too,” Logan admitted.
“I figure, if the danger to the world is so great, someone needs to stay outside and give warning if something goes wrong,” Dorn reasoned. He looked right at Logan. “Is that cowardly?”
“Not if its for practical reason,” Logan replied. “It is not to avoid getting hurt, but then again I don’t want to get blasted into the Abyss either.”
“Well, let’s pray to Nephthys we won’t,” Dorn laughed.
At the front of the line, Ratchis and Kazrack talked quietly.
“When we meet Richard the Red again, you will need to control yourself,” Ratchis was telling the dwarf.
“Why do you need to tell me to control myself?” the dwarf asked annoyed.
“Because you’ve lashed out at him in the past.”
“That was before we agreed to converse with him,” Kazrack replied. “Though I do still think it will come to a fight. He will either try to stop us from going to the Maze, or want to follow us or something, and it will come to conflict.”
“I don’t think so,” said Ratchis.
“If it does, we need to make sure we use non-lethal means of stopping him,” Martin reminded them.
As they came to where the forest ended and the great valley that made up most of Gothanius appeared to the east, they veered north to stay in the cover of the many pine trees that grew there, marching parallel to the trail, but a quarter mile off of it.
Ratchis heard a horse behind them on the trail. Quickly, Martin the Green created an illusory thicket between two trees and the party crouched there. The horse trotted up the trail adjacent to them. It whinnied and stopped and seemed to move around in a circle and break through some brush and stop and neigh and let out a frustrated breath, and then turn again. It rode off, but even as Martin was about to let the illusion down it came back.
Frowning, Ratchis signaled the others to remain hidden and he crept out to see.
There was a horse, alright, but it was riderless, though it had a saddle. It was skittish at first, but Ratchis clucked his tongue and cooed to it, letting it see him, and soon it calmed down and let him take the reins. He could see it had a black feathered arrow hanging painfully from its rear flank.
Ratchis healed the horse, and then called to the others.
“This is strange,” Martin said. “First the other riders, now this horse? And yet, everywhere we have traveled in Gothanius there have not been many horses. Ponies? Oxen? Yes. But not many horses.”
“It makes sense that they would save their horses for military use,” Roland speculated.
“It’s an orc arrow,” Ratchis said.
Ratchis stroked the horse’s face and whispered in its ear, and fed it a wild carrot he had found earlier for Martin. He called to Nephthys to grant him the ear and tongue to talk with the horse.
“Where do you come from?” the half-orc asked the horse.
The animal neighed and its eyes opened wide and for a second it was frightened again.
“The rocky place where things go up,” it said.
“What happened to your master?” Ratchis asked.
“The rain that kills,” the horse replied, and this time it pulled away nervously, and took a moment before nuzzling up to the ranger again.
“Did you smell many creatures?”
“Smelled like you,” the horse said. “But not.”
“How many?”
“A herd.”
“How many rode with you?” Ratchis asked.
“Four hooves and one,” the horse said.
“And how long did you ride before you came under the rain?”
“Many waters and many grazings. Light and dark and light and dark.”
“How many times, light and dark?”
“Several.”
“Did you see those who smelled like me?” Ratchis asked.
“Saw.”
“Was it a camp with food and fire? Or on a road?”
“Not camp. Not road. Tree place. Not road. Not home.”
“Did the others stop to care for your master?” Ratchis asked.”
“Run! Run!” the horse jerked its head nervously and then looked at Ratchis. “Smart. Run.”
Ratchis continued to soothe the horse, taking its saddle off of it, as he explained to others what the horse had said. He then slapped it on the rump and it went running off to the east.
“It will return to its stable eventually,” he said. “Whatever orcs did this, they are days away and are of no concern of ours.”
“For now,” Kazrack added. Ratchis nodded.
“Demons, watch-mages, drow elves, giants, monks and now orcs,” Logan sighed. He scratched his chin. “This sure is complicated. What do the monks want again?”
”They want to bring back their god Rahkefet,” Martin said. “They say they want to talk to Anubis, but they really want to return power to their new patron, the ‘Lord of the Astray’.”
“And they plan to do that in the Maze?” Roland asked.
“Yes,” Martin replied. “We can assume there will be portals there to many of the extra-planar realm… There is a sensor there!” He pointed over Ratchis’ head. The emerald wizard closed his eyes and projected his will through the sensor, forcing the fog of space and time apart to let him see who it was who watched them.
“Richard again?” Kazrack’s voice was far away to the watch-mage. He could see a small green figure, with scaly skin all over its face and bright green and white hair that sprung out of its head. The thing squeezed its big warty nose and traced a black clawed finger over a frosted crystal ball. It looked up and smiled with snarling teeth.
Martin cast the vision aside and opened his eyes, startled.
“Mozek…” he coughed.
“Everyone quiet!” Ratchis said.
“Could you see where he was?” Kazrack asked.
“Some thorny place, like inside a hollowed out bush or something,” Martin said, he grasped his arms about his body and shivered. The image of Chance’s brain being scooped from its skull and smashed into Mozek’s maw flashed in the watch-mage’s mind. “He is still watching.”
“Let him watch,” Ratchis said. “He is still going to die crying for his mother like his brothers all have.”
Dorn shot Ratchis a strange look.
“There is no mercy for fiends,” the half-orc said. Kazrack nodded.
“Is Mozek the one that looks like a monkey?” Logan asked.
“No, he is uglier than a monkey,” the dwarf said.
“You are thinking of Mitha-gogol,” Martin said. The sensor disappeared. “It is gone.”
They marched on, and not too long after Kazrack said, “I still think this is a bad idea. This is certainly a trap. We should have made conditions on how we would meet him. A neutral place.”
“A temple of Bast suits me fine,” said Roland.
“But one of your order is with him, that gives us no advantage,” Kazrack said. “If only Martin could talk to him and arrange something differently.”
“Well, one way he can talk to Richard is by going and talking to him, which is what we are doing,” Roland said, his voice rising in pitch as he let his annoyance with Kazrack show in his attitude, rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue and pursing his lips.
“It would be good if we could meet them outside of the temple, instead of in it,” Ratchis said.
“Okay, I will send Norena a sending,” Roland said.
“You can do that?” Martin asked amazed.
“Yes,” the Bastite said. “When we camp, I will do so.”
Ratchis found them a thick brush to crawl under and sleep the day away before the sun was up.
Roland cast out his sending to Norena:
Norena, we know Richard the Red is there, companions concerned and need assurances, an agreement to meet outside temple. More information an issue before continuing, please respond.
Back came the response:
Imperative you come to temple and talk with Richard. No need to be concerned. Come talk. If no agreement, then leave freely.
“She is not exactly being cooperative,” Roland told the others.
“Then we attack,” Kazrack said. “Let’s not give them a chance to spring their trap.”
“Kazrack, I will not further desecrate that temple of my goddess by being part of an assault on it,” Roland said.
“It is a stupid plan,” said Ratchis. “But I am willing to vote on it.”
“Grrrr! Vote!” Kazrack barked and then he crawled out of the brush and sulked off.
“You do know you have the leadership position of this party,” Roland told Ratchis.
“I disagree,” Ratchis said.
“Deny it to yourself if you like, but it does not change the fact,” Roland insisted. “You called the vote.”
“Anyone could have called the vote,” Ratchis replied.
“But you were the one who did, and the only one who does as far as I have seen,” Roland said. “But I mean this as an accolade, you are doing a good job.”
Ratchis grunted, and went to talk with Kazrack.
“Were they always like an old married couple?” Logan asked Martin.
“They always butt heads. It was different when Beorth was around,” Martin replied. “He provided a third head to butt.”
“I almost wish Gunthar was here,” said Dorn.
“I don’t!” Roland spat. The dwarf and the half-orc returned having smoothed over their disagreement. Soon they were all sleeping hidden in the brush.
Osilem, the 17th of Keent – 565 H.E.
The rain returned as the sky lightened from black to ashen gray, the world seemed all the same color. Ratchis woke Logan and they crawled out from under the brush, and went off to scout around down by the trail they would have normally followed.
The larger valley that made up Gothanius rolled out below them as they crept from tree to shrub, to stay hidden. Visibility was limited, but there was another small wood a mile or so eastward, and just beyond it was what appeared to be tents and wagons. There was the sound of a horn from atop the ridge, so Ratchis and Logan hurried back towards the hidden camp. Crouched behind trees they saw a group of armored riders picking their way down the ridge, their horses making progress skittishly. They were escorting some people with sacks, bags and wheelbarrows. There were women and children among them.
“Looks like they are evacuating Summit,” Ratchis told the others when they had awakened.
“Given what is happening in Greenreed Valley that seems like a wise course of action,” Roland said. They decided to wait before moving on, in case more riders and refugees came down the ridge to the nearby trail.
It was nearly evening when they were marching again, climbing the black stone hill that flanked the eastern ridge wall. A cold rain was falling again, and it slipped backward and forward to and from ice, whipping horizontally every few minutes.
“Isn’t it summer?” Logan said through chattering teeth.
“End of summer,” Ratchis replied. “Up here winter comes quick.”
“So, what might I expect from this Richard character if it does come to a fight?” Logan asked, changing the subject.
“He can make you think he’s your best friend. He can travel instantly from place to place. He can create clouds of noxious gas that makes you fall over in a vomiting heap. He can summon monstrous creatures to do his bidding…” Martin rattled it all off.
“Wow…” Logan whistled. “Why can’t you be more like him?”
Martin frowned and his shoulders drooped, and he went on marching. The upward march was broken up by a few short climbs as the Keepers of the Gate hoisted themselves up over earthen shelves lined with outcroppings of slick crumbling slate, but finally there was a long march across a wide plateau of gray stone turned black with rain and mud.
“I think we can make camp over there,” Ratchis said, pointing to the darker shadow of tall rocks capped with brush. He talked loudly to be heard over the rain.
“What’s that?” Logan yelled, shielding his eyes to keep the rain out as he pointed to the northwest. A huge form was gliding down out of the clouds, and then with a flap of its wings made a wide bank back up from the south and around again as it came down. It flew in and out of their sight as it circled, the darkness of night creeping across the hill.
“We got company!” Logan cried diving behind a stone and drawing the composite bow Ratchis has lent him.
“Oh sh*t,” Martin muttered, casting shield and looking around for some cover. He went over to Logan and with a word and a wild carrot made the rogue able to see in the dark. Calls went up to the gods, as Ratchis, Roland and Kazrack all cast spells.
And down it came. It had a broad leonine body and huge bat-like wings, but did not have much of a tail. The thing’s draconic head seemed a little too far over on the left of its shoulders, but then they could see it had not one head, but two. On the other side was the head of a huge ferocious goat with blood red horns. But wait, no, there were three! For there in the center was a lion’s head with a great blood red mane and sharp teeth. The thing screeched and roared and bleated. Its eyes shone bright green and they could smell it as it approached, like sulfur and burning copper that stung the eyes and the back of the throat.
“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!” Dorn cried out, panic creeping into his voice. He backed away fumbling with his crossbow.
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Notes:
(1) The King hired mercenaries to survey the area north of Greenreed Valley and they came into conflict with the Garvan gnomes, leading to two very different accounts of what happened. (See Sessions #39 and #50.
(2) The Dolphin and the Squid are two constellations made up of eleven stars that move across the northern sky as the year passes.
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