Rel's Faded Glory III: Glory Reborn (FINAL UPDATE 6/22 - SHE'S DONE, BABY!!)
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Rel
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How's this for a big, fat, chunky update? 
Lazarius leaned in close to Speaks’ Scrying Pool and took a careful look into the image within the waters.
He could make out Ilrath and a handful of other humans wearing the garb of the Coritani and Brigantes. He could also see a couple dozen Orcs. All looked as though they were trying to find a way to rest comfortably within the confines of a cave. A small fire flickered on the floor, heating some strips of meat. Fat sizzled as it dripped into the edges of the flames.
A deep, throaty voice chuckled in Orcish, “Ilrath, you humans ruin your meat by burning it. How does it have any flavor left after you put it in the fire like that?”
“I only cook the meat as an excuse for us to light a fire to warm ourselves by. We don’t skin thickened to the cold like your men do, Magdar.” Ilrath smiled as he grabbed the stick that the meat hung from and walked around letting the other Fodorans pluck strips from it gingerly and juggle them to keep from burning their hands.
“I think it is not our skin, but our blood. It runs hot from living so many years within the City.” The Orc looked off in another direction, the faintest pale light showing on his wrinkled features. “I think that we shall stay here today and let Hudgul see to the worst of our injuries. We’ve not used this cave in many weeks. I do not think the patrols will find us.”
Ilrath nodded and lay down on a thin pallet of furs. He took a bite of the meat he held in his hand and began to chew. His jaw worked a half a dozen times and he managed to swallow once before sleep overtook him. A rumbling snore echoed through him.
The Orc smiled a sharp-toothed smile and walked away.
“I think that will be good enough,” said Lazarius. Speaks nodded and let the image fade. They walked back over to the cave entrance where the others waited impatiently, their cloaks wrapped tightly around them in the pre-dawn cold at the bottom of the sinkhole.
“Is everyone ready,” asked Speaks.
Marius replied, “They still look friendly toward the Orcs?”
“Yes,” answered Lazarius. “But be ready in case they don’t have the same attitude toward us.”
Marcus took a few moments to call upon the protective powers of St. Cuthbert and Lazarius likewise layered on his magical protections. When they were ready, Speaks spread his hands toward the group, excepting Lazarius and gave a high pitched whistle. The green magic of the Wild reached out toward Marius, Marcus, Cathal and Scipio and they shrank into the shapes of Starlings. One by one, they flitted onto the shoulders of Speaks and Lazarius. The pair of spellcasters looked at each other and one last time around the sinkhole that had been a battleground and encampment for them for over a week. Lazarius said a word and they were elsewhere.
A pop and slight rush of air accompanied their arrival in the cave. Orcs stared wide eyed at these new arrivals but weapons leapt into their hands and they rolled out of their pallets ready to fight. But Speaks and Lazarius had carefully discussed what they would do and Speaks immediately stepped forward, his hands stretched out away from him to show that he held no weapons. In Orcish he spoke, “I am no enemy to you if you are friends of Ilrath!”
Time froze for an instant as muscles bunched to charge and weapons were leveled for battle. Then a voice cut through the tension, “Speaks?! What are you doing here?”
Before he could answer, another voice bellowed, echoing in the small cave, “Ilrath, who are these humans!?”
Speaks held his tongue for a moment until Ilrath answered, “This man is my friend. He fought beside me against your misguided brethren when they came to kill my people. He is no foe to you.”
Again in Orcish, Speaks spoke, “Ilrath, we have come to seek you out and discover what happened to you. It has been many months since you left home and your people fear for your safety.” As he spoke, weapons were lowered, but not sheathed or released.
Ilrath nodded and approached Speaks. “Yes, my friend, it has been too long since I have drunk the mead in the hall of my chieftain. But I serve another for now.” He looked in the direction of the Orc who seemed in charge. “This is Magdar.”
Speaks looked back and forth between the two and then addressed both of them, “It seems we have much to discuss. Let us gather around the fire. My companions have brought food and we can see to your wounds.” Speaks gestured toward Lazarius and then his companions began to spring into being around the Wizard as they resumed their normal forms. The Orcs, Magdar included, looked on with astonishment. They craned their necks even after the group had all shed their bird forms, wondering if an entire army was going to manifest itself in their little hideout.
Marcus immediately set about tending to the wounded, human and Orc alike. The others took seats around the fire and Ilrath’s tale began to unfold:
They had set out in late spring, following the trail of the retreating Orc army that had come in the Winter War. A few days into the mountains, they found over a hundred of these Orcs that had been slain. Their bodies lay scattered throughout a narrow valley, many showing signs of having had trophies taken from them. Ilrath decided to take another route into the Blackpeaks.
They had followed the same path as had the companions, finding their way into the caves inhabited by the Stingers. They found few of them present and their Queen offered them passage through her caves for a small tribute. Ilrath’s men complied and gave up a couple of finely crafted weapons in exchange. They traveled north to Do-Kun Ghul and bought passage through there as well. Ilrath recognized the Duergar and knew they could be reasoned with and trusted to a point from his experiences within the Stone Tooth.
Beyond Do-Kun Ghul, they encountered the Spider Folk and fought a vicious battle with them. Ilrath’s band lost a couple of men but they wrought great havoc on the Spider Folk, slaying combatants and setting fire to webs as they made their way through those caves. The passage branched within their lair but his band kept going to the north and made their way past the small flocks of Stirges that haunted that part of the trek. Here again he used what he had learned in the Stone Tooth to his advantage and they blocked set small fires in the holes as they passed them to keep the Stirges from surrounding them.
They finally made it to the Sinkhole and that was where things went very badly for them. The Shocker Lizards killed several of his band with their blasts of lightning and only seven of them survived to make the climb to the top. Once there they rested and healed for a couple of days and then continued northwards.
They passed through the lands of some kinds of unseen hunters. There were poles adorned by skulls of many varieties, mostly Orcs. Another of Ilrath’s group was taken silently as he was on guard duty. The sleeping men awoke to find his head on a pole just to the east of their camp. They skirted the area to the west and continued north. Later, Magdar explained that that area was inhabited by fearsome hunters called Braxat. They hunted sentient creatures for sport but left alone those who did not challenge them.
Ilrath’s much diminished group finally made it into the northern reaches of the Blackpeaks and encountered some Orcs. They ambushed a patrol they found and tried to get the survivors to tell them the location of the City of Endless Summer. They got no answers but were fell upon the following morning by another group of Orcs mounted upon great stygian beasts. These riders rained fire down upon them from above and they lost another man burned to death. But then help arrived from an unexpected quarter.
Magdar and his men sprang from hiding atop a cliff where they had been observing Ilrath’s group for the last day. They drove the Wyvern riders away with arrow fire and then led Ilrath and his men to a nearby cave to hide. In exchange for saving their lives, Ilrath offered his service to Magdar for a year.
For the last several months, Magdar had led them all over the mountains east of the City of Endless Summer, ambushing a small patrol here and there, but mostly staying hidden and trying to stay alive. In that time, two more of Ilrath’s original group had died and it was now just he and three others who continued to serve Magdar.
As for Magdar, his story was also interesting. He used to be a shift leader for one of the groups of Orcs who manned the foundry operations north of the City. He followed the teachings of Bane as did the other inhabitants of the City under the leadership of the Banelar and their Ogre bodyguards. But then he was paid a visit by a being of great power. “The Shining Lady”
The Shining Lady came to Magdar and his men as they worked the Foundry. She told them of the evil ways in which their people had been shaped into a tool for the Cult of Bane and how the whole of the Black Peaks had come under the oppression of the Dead God. She told them that soon a reckoning would come, a time when they might cast off the shackles of this oppression and lead their people into a time of peace when they could determine their own destiny. Something changed in the hearts of those Orcs who beheld the Shining Lady and they knew that it would be their responsibility to try and find a way to break the hold of the Banelar over their people.
Knowing that to preach such things openly would bring them a swift death, they abandoned their post in the Foundry and took refuge in the surrounding mountains. Here they had waged a ragged war, tugging at the fringes of the power the Banelar held in the City. Once over a hundred strong, Magdar’s group of warriors was down to less than fifty.
But they know that the time presaged by the Shining Lady is close at hand. Something new is happening. The smoke from the Foundry has not risen into the sky for nearly a month and Magdar intends to go inside soon to find out what is taking place.
The group sat around the fire and listened intently as these tales unfolded. They exchanged worried glances. Cathal in particular was concerned. He did not know if the Orcs intended to launch another invasion of his homeland, but he knew for certain that his people could not withstand it if they did. He agreed with Magdar: Someone needed to enter the City and find out what was being planned.
Magdar explained that the Foundry was located well north of the City of Endless Summer proper. A cluster of mines in the mountains north of the City all fed back into the Foundry caverns and from there a long, straight passage headed south into the City where the iron ingots were brought to be forged into weapons and armor. This “back door” was the only good way into the City.
The City of Endless Summer rested in a steep, bowl shaped valley with no natural exits. There were no “city gates” and the rim of the valley was patrolled by the Wyvern riders. Magdar also believed there to be some sort of magical ward that warned a beast they called The Watcher. This fearsome creature would rally the Wyvern riders from their perch high atop the Temple of Bane and attack any who dared to try and cross over the rim of the valley into the City.
It was decided that the companions would take on the task of scouting out what was going on within the City. They had magical means of stealth and ways to escape quickly if things went awry during their infiltration. But first they needed to take care of a few other things.
With the possible threat of another Orcish invasion of the Fodor valley at hand, they needed to spread the warning. And it was readily apparent that Magdar’s group, including Ilrath and his men, were badly in need of resupply. The party spent the remainder of the day helping to patch Magdar’s warriors back together as best they could.
Speaks also had Magdar sketch a map of how to get to the Foundry from the cave and scouted the location in eagle form. A crevice in the mountainside provided an escape for the smoke produced in the smelting of the iron ore and a way to get inside. No smoke came from within and Speaks made sure that he knew how to find the crevice from ground level. He returned to the cave and the group rested through the night.
In the morning they bade Magdar and Ilrath farewell for the next couple of days. Magdar told them that he could not afford to stay in one place for long and would have to move to another hideout further east. But he agreed that he would check back at the cave in a few days to see if the party had returned with information. Speaks and Cathal embraced Ilrath and his men and they somberly wished each other luck. Then the majority of the group assumed bird form and Lazarius whisked them away on a word and a prayer.
They appeared with another pop and rush of wind to find themselves ankle deep in fresh snow in Speaks’ grove just outside Glynden. All shook their heads in disbelief at this amazing new means of transportation. To think of all they had been through in their last months of travel and how they had returned to the start in the blink of an eye was simply mind boggling.
Speaks talked briefly to Jitterbug, one of the Awakened wolves who guarded his grove. He asked that Jitterbug let Kyndalyn know about the Orcs possibly being on the move again. Kyndalyn should be on the lookout for some sort of message about what was taking place. It may turn out that the men of Glynden once again must aid the people of the Fodor in their struggle against the Orcs.
Speaks looked around wistfully, wishing he could spend more time in his beloved grove. But he was needed elsewhere and he silently nodded to Lazarius that he was ready for the next leg of their journey. They vanished…
…and stood in Urdrax’s Mead Hall, atop Hrongar’s Hill. The Brigante chieftain was stunned to find this group back among his people so suddenly, but his sharp mind quickly adjusted to the reality of what they told him. He shook his head in woe at the prospect of another invading army of Orcs. “We simply cannot withstand another attack. Our people are barely keeping fed after so many men and stores were lost last winter. Even without an attack, we’ll be lucky to keep everyone alive through the winter. If they bring an army, we will fight them. But we cannot win.”
The party acknowledged this grim assessment and swore they would do whatever they could to avoid such a happening. They also promised to try and convince Glynden to send aid, both for the possible coming war and food as well. Urdrax was still holding out hope that the group of traders that had gone south to Oar would return with much needed supplies. But so far there had been no word from them.
While in the lands of the Fodor, Speaks took a day to fly to Ilrath’s village along with Marcus. They told Ilrath’s mother that he yet lived and looked forward to seeing her as soon as he could. They did not share the fact that he was under an oath to an Orc. It seemed more than the old woman could probably take. They left her all of their remaining rations and took their leave.
Meanwhile, Cathal went to his own village, near to Hrongar’s Hill and returned Mailbiter to where it had hung over his father’s hearth. “I wield my own weapon now, father. And I fear that you may have need of Mailbiter before the snows melt if the worst comes to pass.” He embraced his parents and left again, feeling the ache for home with a painful intensity.
When they had gathered once again at Urdrax’s hall, Speaks told the chief of the Brigantes to be watchful for a message borne by a little bird. Urdrax nodded with great credence as the group all changed into little birds and vanished.
The room they appeared in would have been small with only Lazarius and the flock of birds that accompanied him. The chambermaid who was changing the bed sheets made things even tighter. She screamed and ran from the room before Lazarius had a chance to react. Her cries caused other guests at the Laughing Gull Inn to poke their heads into the hallway where they witnessed five rugged looking men in armor and bristling with weapons, walk out of a tiny room with a single narrow rope-bed. They could only guess at what the chambermaid had witnessed inside.
The group quickly dispersed. Speaks went immediately to the temple of Obad-Hai where he found his mother in the garden. He told her of his adventures in the northlands of late and of the rift within the Druid Circle. She had heard rumors but was interested in getting all the details from Speaks. After he explained what had happened with regards to the Keepers of Night, he steeled himself. Then he explained that it was the Keepers who were responsible for her husband’s death nearly twenty years ago. They comforted each other as best they could before Speaks had to return to his companions.
Lazarius went on an orgy of spending, replenishing his spell component pouch and buying up dozens of scrolls from the local campus of the Imperial College of Wizardry. He also sent word south to Emor about a few of the things he’d discovered in the Northlands and would be updating them further soon.
Marcus visited the Church of St. Cuthbert and told of the ill tidings in the north. They commended him on taking the battle to the enemy but warned him as always to be on guard against the forces of corruption. There was no telling what manner of deceit might await him in the City of Endless Summer and the priest did not like the sound of the Orcish allies that Marcus was aiding. Marcus promised to be vigilant and received the blessing of the Church in his further deeds.
Marius and Cathal went to the market and bought a pair of large casks and filled them to the brim with all sorts of durable provisions. Dried fruits, meats, hardtack biscuits and such were in plentiful supply in a port that served the Imperial Fleet. Cathal presence drew a lot of stares and soon Marius discovered why. It seemed that the trade caravan had arrived from the Fodor lands a few weeks ago. Shortly after its arrival there was some kind of disruption in the marketplace. A fight broke out and when the dust settled, an Oarian merchant was dead and several of his body guards were wounded. The Fodorans were blamed and one was arrested. The others had escaped capture and fled town. The man in custody spent very little time in jail before being hanged for murder.
It was rumored that the presiding judge was newly arrived from Emor and the trial was attended by a handful of high ranking Imperial military officers. Oar was abuzz with rumors of reprisals against the Fodor Barbarians if there were further criminal acts. With this in mind, Marius and Cathal concluded their business quickly and returned to the Laughing Gull to meet their friends.
They bought rooms and ate sumptuous meals. Cathal, Speaks and Marcus all retired shortly after dinner more for reasons of seclusion than fatigue. Marius and Lazarius somehow found the strength to seek out a local brothel that Lazarius knew of and employ the services therein late into the night. Both made it back to the Laughing Gull in the wee hours of the morning and managed to sleep until well past mid morning before they were awakened by their companions. Both also agreed that the way they felt this morning was a small price to pay for the excesses of the previous evening.
But it was still torture on their stomachs when Lazarius Teleported them back into the cave in the Blackpeaks, now abandoned by Magdar and Ilrath.
Lazarius leaned in close to Speaks’ Scrying Pool and took a careful look into the image within the waters.
He could make out Ilrath and a handful of other humans wearing the garb of the Coritani and Brigantes. He could also see a couple dozen Orcs. All looked as though they were trying to find a way to rest comfortably within the confines of a cave. A small fire flickered on the floor, heating some strips of meat. Fat sizzled as it dripped into the edges of the flames.
A deep, throaty voice chuckled in Orcish, “Ilrath, you humans ruin your meat by burning it. How does it have any flavor left after you put it in the fire like that?”
“I only cook the meat as an excuse for us to light a fire to warm ourselves by. We don’t skin thickened to the cold like your men do, Magdar.” Ilrath smiled as he grabbed the stick that the meat hung from and walked around letting the other Fodorans pluck strips from it gingerly and juggle them to keep from burning their hands.
“I think it is not our skin, but our blood. It runs hot from living so many years within the City.” The Orc looked off in another direction, the faintest pale light showing on his wrinkled features. “I think that we shall stay here today and let Hudgul see to the worst of our injuries. We’ve not used this cave in many weeks. I do not think the patrols will find us.”
Ilrath nodded and lay down on a thin pallet of furs. He took a bite of the meat he held in his hand and began to chew. His jaw worked a half a dozen times and he managed to swallow once before sleep overtook him. A rumbling snore echoed through him.
The Orc smiled a sharp-toothed smile and walked away.
“I think that will be good enough,” said Lazarius. Speaks nodded and let the image fade. They walked back over to the cave entrance where the others waited impatiently, their cloaks wrapped tightly around them in the pre-dawn cold at the bottom of the sinkhole.
“Is everyone ready,” asked Speaks.
Marius replied, “They still look friendly toward the Orcs?”
“Yes,” answered Lazarius. “But be ready in case they don’t have the same attitude toward us.”
Marcus took a few moments to call upon the protective powers of St. Cuthbert and Lazarius likewise layered on his magical protections. When they were ready, Speaks spread his hands toward the group, excepting Lazarius and gave a high pitched whistle. The green magic of the Wild reached out toward Marius, Marcus, Cathal and Scipio and they shrank into the shapes of Starlings. One by one, they flitted onto the shoulders of Speaks and Lazarius. The pair of spellcasters looked at each other and one last time around the sinkhole that had been a battleground and encampment for them for over a week. Lazarius said a word and they were elsewhere.
A pop and slight rush of air accompanied their arrival in the cave. Orcs stared wide eyed at these new arrivals but weapons leapt into their hands and they rolled out of their pallets ready to fight. But Speaks and Lazarius had carefully discussed what they would do and Speaks immediately stepped forward, his hands stretched out away from him to show that he held no weapons. In Orcish he spoke, “I am no enemy to you if you are friends of Ilrath!”
Time froze for an instant as muscles bunched to charge and weapons were leveled for battle. Then a voice cut through the tension, “Speaks?! What are you doing here?”
Before he could answer, another voice bellowed, echoing in the small cave, “Ilrath, who are these humans!?”
Speaks held his tongue for a moment until Ilrath answered, “This man is my friend. He fought beside me against your misguided brethren when they came to kill my people. He is no foe to you.”
Again in Orcish, Speaks spoke, “Ilrath, we have come to seek you out and discover what happened to you. It has been many months since you left home and your people fear for your safety.” As he spoke, weapons were lowered, but not sheathed or released.
Ilrath nodded and approached Speaks. “Yes, my friend, it has been too long since I have drunk the mead in the hall of my chieftain. But I serve another for now.” He looked in the direction of the Orc who seemed in charge. “This is Magdar.”
Speaks looked back and forth between the two and then addressed both of them, “It seems we have much to discuss. Let us gather around the fire. My companions have brought food and we can see to your wounds.” Speaks gestured toward Lazarius and then his companions began to spring into being around the Wizard as they resumed their normal forms. The Orcs, Magdar included, looked on with astonishment. They craned their necks even after the group had all shed their bird forms, wondering if an entire army was going to manifest itself in their little hideout.
Marcus immediately set about tending to the wounded, human and Orc alike. The others took seats around the fire and Ilrath’s tale began to unfold:
They had set out in late spring, following the trail of the retreating Orc army that had come in the Winter War. A few days into the mountains, they found over a hundred of these Orcs that had been slain. Their bodies lay scattered throughout a narrow valley, many showing signs of having had trophies taken from them. Ilrath decided to take another route into the Blackpeaks.
They had followed the same path as had the companions, finding their way into the caves inhabited by the Stingers. They found few of them present and their Queen offered them passage through her caves for a small tribute. Ilrath’s men complied and gave up a couple of finely crafted weapons in exchange. They traveled north to Do-Kun Ghul and bought passage through there as well. Ilrath recognized the Duergar and knew they could be reasoned with and trusted to a point from his experiences within the Stone Tooth.
Beyond Do-Kun Ghul, they encountered the Spider Folk and fought a vicious battle with them. Ilrath’s band lost a couple of men but they wrought great havoc on the Spider Folk, slaying combatants and setting fire to webs as they made their way through those caves. The passage branched within their lair but his band kept going to the north and made their way past the small flocks of Stirges that haunted that part of the trek. Here again he used what he had learned in the Stone Tooth to his advantage and they blocked set small fires in the holes as they passed them to keep the Stirges from surrounding them.
They finally made it to the Sinkhole and that was where things went very badly for them. The Shocker Lizards killed several of his band with their blasts of lightning and only seven of them survived to make the climb to the top. Once there they rested and healed for a couple of days and then continued northwards.
They passed through the lands of some kinds of unseen hunters. There were poles adorned by skulls of many varieties, mostly Orcs. Another of Ilrath’s group was taken silently as he was on guard duty. The sleeping men awoke to find his head on a pole just to the east of their camp. They skirted the area to the west and continued north. Later, Magdar explained that that area was inhabited by fearsome hunters called Braxat. They hunted sentient creatures for sport but left alone those who did not challenge them.
Ilrath’s much diminished group finally made it into the northern reaches of the Blackpeaks and encountered some Orcs. They ambushed a patrol they found and tried to get the survivors to tell them the location of the City of Endless Summer. They got no answers but were fell upon the following morning by another group of Orcs mounted upon great stygian beasts. These riders rained fire down upon them from above and they lost another man burned to death. But then help arrived from an unexpected quarter.
Magdar and his men sprang from hiding atop a cliff where they had been observing Ilrath’s group for the last day. They drove the Wyvern riders away with arrow fire and then led Ilrath and his men to a nearby cave to hide. In exchange for saving their lives, Ilrath offered his service to Magdar for a year.
For the last several months, Magdar had led them all over the mountains east of the City of Endless Summer, ambushing a small patrol here and there, but mostly staying hidden and trying to stay alive. In that time, two more of Ilrath’s original group had died and it was now just he and three others who continued to serve Magdar.
As for Magdar, his story was also interesting. He used to be a shift leader for one of the groups of Orcs who manned the foundry operations north of the City. He followed the teachings of Bane as did the other inhabitants of the City under the leadership of the Banelar and their Ogre bodyguards. But then he was paid a visit by a being of great power. “The Shining Lady”
The Shining Lady came to Magdar and his men as they worked the Foundry. She told them of the evil ways in which their people had been shaped into a tool for the Cult of Bane and how the whole of the Black Peaks had come under the oppression of the Dead God. She told them that soon a reckoning would come, a time when they might cast off the shackles of this oppression and lead their people into a time of peace when they could determine their own destiny. Something changed in the hearts of those Orcs who beheld the Shining Lady and they knew that it would be their responsibility to try and find a way to break the hold of the Banelar over their people.
Knowing that to preach such things openly would bring them a swift death, they abandoned their post in the Foundry and took refuge in the surrounding mountains. Here they had waged a ragged war, tugging at the fringes of the power the Banelar held in the City. Once over a hundred strong, Magdar’s group of warriors was down to less than fifty.
But they know that the time presaged by the Shining Lady is close at hand. Something new is happening. The smoke from the Foundry has not risen into the sky for nearly a month and Magdar intends to go inside soon to find out what is taking place.
The group sat around the fire and listened intently as these tales unfolded. They exchanged worried glances. Cathal in particular was concerned. He did not know if the Orcs intended to launch another invasion of his homeland, but he knew for certain that his people could not withstand it if they did. He agreed with Magdar: Someone needed to enter the City and find out what was being planned.
Magdar explained that the Foundry was located well north of the City of Endless Summer proper. A cluster of mines in the mountains north of the City all fed back into the Foundry caverns and from there a long, straight passage headed south into the City where the iron ingots were brought to be forged into weapons and armor. This “back door” was the only good way into the City.
The City of Endless Summer rested in a steep, bowl shaped valley with no natural exits. There were no “city gates” and the rim of the valley was patrolled by the Wyvern riders. Magdar also believed there to be some sort of magical ward that warned a beast they called The Watcher. This fearsome creature would rally the Wyvern riders from their perch high atop the Temple of Bane and attack any who dared to try and cross over the rim of the valley into the City.
It was decided that the companions would take on the task of scouting out what was going on within the City. They had magical means of stealth and ways to escape quickly if things went awry during their infiltration. But first they needed to take care of a few other things.
With the possible threat of another Orcish invasion of the Fodor valley at hand, they needed to spread the warning. And it was readily apparent that Magdar’s group, including Ilrath and his men, were badly in need of resupply. The party spent the remainder of the day helping to patch Magdar’s warriors back together as best they could.
Speaks also had Magdar sketch a map of how to get to the Foundry from the cave and scouted the location in eagle form. A crevice in the mountainside provided an escape for the smoke produced in the smelting of the iron ore and a way to get inside. No smoke came from within and Speaks made sure that he knew how to find the crevice from ground level. He returned to the cave and the group rested through the night.
In the morning they bade Magdar and Ilrath farewell for the next couple of days. Magdar told them that he could not afford to stay in one place for long and would have to move to another hideout further east. But he agreed that he would check back at the cave in a few days to see if the party had returned with information. Speaks and Cathal embraced Ilrath and his men and they somberly wished each other luck. Then the majority of the group assumed bird form and Lazarius whisked them away on a word and a prayer.
They appeared with another pop and rush of wind to find themselves ankle deep in fresh snow in Speaks’ grove just outside Glynden. All shook their heads in disbelief at this amazing new means of transportation. To think of all they had been through in their last months of travel and how they had returned to the start in the blink of an eye was simply mind boggling.
Speaks talked briefly to Jitterbug, one of the Awakened wolves who guarded his grove. He asked that Jitterbug let Kyndalyn know about the Orcs possibly being on the move again. Kyndalyn should be on the lookout for some sort of message about what was taking place. It may turn out that the men of Glynden once again must aid the people of the Fodor in their struggle against the Orcs.
Speaks looked around wistfully, wishing he could spend more time in his beloved grove. But he was needed elsewhere and he silently nodded to Lazarius that he was ready for the next leg of their journey. They vanished…
…and stood in Urdrax’s Mead Hall, atop Hrongar’s Hill. The Brigante chieftain was stunned to find this group back among his people so suddenly, but his sharp mind quickly adjusted to the reality of what they told him. He shook his head in woe at the prospect of another invading army of Orcs. “We simply cannot withstand another attack. Our people are barely keeping fed after so many men and stores were lost last winter. Even without an attack, we’ll be lucky to keep everyone alive through the winter. If they bring an army, we will fight them. But we cannot win.”
The party acknowledged this grim assessment and swore they would do whatever they could to avoid such a happening. They also promised to try and convince Glynden to send aid, both for the possible coming war and food as well. Urdrax was still holding out hope that the group of traders that had gone south to Oar would return with much needed supplies. But so far there had been no word from them.
While in the lands of the Fodor, Speaks took a day to fly to Ilrath’s village along with Marcus. They told Ilrath’s mother that he yet lived and looked forward to seeing her as soon as he could. They did not share the fact that he was under an oath to an Orc. It seemed more than the old woman could probably take. They left her all of their remaining rations and took their leave.
Meanwhile, Cathal went to his own village, near to Hrongar’s Hill and returned Mailbiter to where it had hung over his father’s hearth. “I wield my own weapon now, father. And I fear that you may have need of Mailbiter before the snows melt if the worst comes to pass.” He embraced his parents and left again, feeling the ache for home with a painful intensity.
When they had gathered once again at Urdrax’s hall, Speaks told the chief of the Brigantes to be watchful for a message borne by a little bird. Urdrax nodded with great credence as the group all changed into little birds and vanished.
The room they appeared in would have been small with only Lazarius and the flock of birds that accompanied him. The chambermaid who was changing the bed sheets made things even tighter. She screamed and ran from the room before Lazarius had a chance to react. Her cries caused other guests at the Laughing Gull Inn to poke their heads into the hallway where they witnessed five rugged looking men in armor and bristling with weapons, walk out of a tiny room with a single narrow rope-bed. They could only guess at what the chambermaid had witnessed inside.
The group quickly dispersed. Speaks went immediately to the temple of Obad-Hai where he found his mother in the garden. He told her of his adventures in the northlands of late and of the rift within the Druid Circle. She had heard rumors but was interested in getting all the details from Speaks. After he explained what had happened with regards to the Keepers of Night, he steeled himself. Then he explained that it was the Keepers who were responsible for her husband’s death nearly twenty years ago. They comforted each other as best they could before Speaks had to return to his companions.
Lazarius went on an orgy of spending, replenishing his spell component pouch and buying up dozens of scrolls from the local campus of the Imperial College of Wizardry. He also sent word south to Emor about a few of the things he’d discovered in the Northlands and would be updating them further soon.
Marcus visited the Church of St. Cuthbert and told of the ill tidings in the north. They commended him on taking the battle to the enemy but warned him as always to be on guard against the forces of corruption. There was no telling what manner of deceit might await him in the City of Endless Summer and the priest did not like the sound of the Orcish allies that Marcus was aiding. Marcus promised to be vigilant and received the blessing of the Church in his further deeds.
Marius and Cathal went to the market and bought a pair of large casks and filled them to the brim with all sorts of durable provisions. Dried fruits, meats, hardtack biscuits and such were in plentiful supply in a port that served the Imperial Fleet. Cathal presence drew a lot of stares and soon Marius discovered why. It seemed that the trade caravan had arrived from the Fodor lands a few weeks ago. Shortly after its arrival there was some kind of disruption in the marketplace. A fight broke out and when the dust settled, an Oarian merchant was dead and several of his body guards were wounded. The Fodorans were blamed and one was arrested. The others had escaped capture and fled town. The man in custody spent very little time in jail before being hanged for murder.
It was rumored that the presiding judge was newly arrived from Emor and the trial was attended by a handful of high ranking Imperial military officers. Oar was abuzz with rumors of reprisals against the Fodor Barbarians if there were further criminal acts. With this in mind, Marius and Cathal concluded their business quickly and returned to the Laughing Gull to meet their friends.
They bought rooms and ate sumptuous meals. Cathal, Speaks and Marcus all retired shortly after dinner more for reasons of seclusion than fatigue. Marius and Lazarius somehow found the strength to seek out a local brothel that Lazarius knew of and employ the services therein late into the night. Both made it back to the Laughing Gull in the wee hours of the morning and managed to sleep until well past mid morning before they were awakened by their companions. Both also agreed that the way they felt this morning was a small price to pay for the excesses of the previous evening.
But it was still torture on their stomachs when Lazarius Teleported them back into the cave in the Blackpeaks, now abandoned by Magdar and Ilrath.
Last edited:
BSF
Explorer
Rockin' update Rel. That is a lot of info. Were you able to get through all of that in one session?
Edit: Oops, I tried to PM you but I couldn't. I'll copy/paste the message here.
Rel, Great update! Though I think you might have a misspelling. Highlighted below.
The passage branched within their lair but his bank kept going to the north and made their way past the small flocks of Stirges that haunted that part of the trek.
Thanks for the Story Hour!
Edit: Oops, I tried to PM you but I couldn't. I'll copy/paste the message here.
Rel, Great update! Though I think you might have a misspelling. Highlighted below.
The passage branched within their lair but his bank kept going to the north and made their way past the small flocks of Stirges that haunted that part of the trek.
Thanks for the Story Hour!
Last edited:
Rel
Liquid Awesome
BardStephenFox said:
Thanks for reading, BSF and thanks for catching the typo. If that's the only one in there I'd be shocked beyond belief.
As I recall, most of that was handled in a single session. But my players may have a different recollection. I know the battle at the top of the sinkhole took almost an entire session and I think that Speaks Reincarnated Feathers In Flight at the end of the session and found out what he knew. That was also the point at which Lazarius made it to 9th level and had the time he needed to scribe Teleport into his spellbook.
Once they had Teleport, they went directly to Ilrath and then decided that they needed to head back to town to rest and refit as well as pass along some of this info. I'll have to look back through my e-mails and see if I can find what they bought and sold in Oar. It seems like it was a substantial list.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
Darklone said:
Yep. This is really the first campaign that I can recall in recent memory, perhaps ever among our group, where Teleportation became accessable to the party at will. I don't think I was quite prepared for the impact. But I adapted my playstyle to it as we moved forward and the players helped me out a lot by letting me know where they were going in advance so I could prepare. They almost never just "up and teleported" somewhere unexpected.
Riggs
First Post
Ah yes, now I remember
Rel, was this the town trip to Emor where Marius went to see the ol REs and formed an opinion?
Good to see we are getting to the funny stuff!
Lots of good updating there. I have to get up and walk around after all that screen-reading...hehe
It was funny to remember that we all found out we had nearly exactly retraced Ilrath's steps, but made it through places completely backwards from how he did (we fought the scorpions, negotiated not so greatly with the duergar and talked through the spiders I mean).
I think at this point my d20 began to steadily reconstitute its numbers to have more than half below 10 and worse...
Everyone nag Rel more, his family isn't back yet I think. He's just sitting around in a chef hat not updating!
Rel, was this the town trip to Emor where Marius went to see the ol REs and formed an opinion?
Good to see we are getting to the funny stuff!
Lots of good updating there. I have to get up and walk around after all that screen-reading...hehe
It was funny to remember that we all found out we had nearly exactly retraced Ilrath's steps, but made it through places completely backwards from how he did (we fought the scorpions, negotiated not so greatly with the duergar and talked through the spiders I mean).
I think at this point my d20 began to steadily reconstitute its numbers to have more than half below 10 and worse...
Everyone nag Rel more, his family isn't back yet I think. He's just sitting around in a chef hat not updating!
Rel
Liquid Awesome
The party set about executing the plan they had concocted. Lazarius passed out potions to Change himself and the others into semblances of Orcs. Speaks then transformed them back into bird form, personally taking the form of a tropical Quetzal bird, and they all flew from the cave to the ridge that held the Foundry within. They located the vent-crevice and fluttered past the soot-stained snow at the edges to land on the floor within.
The stone floor was smooth with generations of use by the Orcs and the dim shapes of the huge bellows and cauldrons of the Foundry equipment hovered nearby in the darkness. They pulled forth Everburning Torches from their satchels and could make out the long chamber running off to the north. From Magdar’s description, that was the direction in which the mines themselves lay. They could see a series of tracks that ran along the floor by which carts of raw ore would be brought into the Foundry to be smelted.
Another set of tracks resumed on the opposite side of the metalworks and ran toward a broad corridor headed south. That was the path by which the iron ingots would be transported back to the City of Endless Summer to be worked into armor, weapons and tools. It was into this dark passage that the party proceeded, disguised as a ragged group of Orcs.
(until further notice the remainder of this update is written by the player of Cathal. Give him a big round of applause for his first entry into the Story Hour Forums as a writer…)
"Busted by Ogres", or "Who's Getting the Shaft, Here?"
A raid, in their opinion, would only cause the denizens of the City of Endless Summer to become suspicious, so the party decided not to take Ilrath and his greenskin companions up on their offer to cause a diversion, and instead, they changed their appearance to that of a party of orcish laborers and hoped that they could blend in with the rest of the orcs in the City. Once they had made it safely down the vent of the foundry, the party traveled for nearly four hours through the mineshaft, a 20' wide hewn stone hallway w/ mine cart tracks down the middle, running from the foundry towards the City. At this point, the hallway flared out to about 30'-40' wide and ends with a worked stone wall with a sturdy metal door barring their way.
Did I mention the ogres?
Four Ogres wearing full plate and carrying massive shields stood guard here, and one of them stepped slightly forward, challenging in orcish, "Oi, what're you lot doin' here?" Marius replied that "we were cleanin' up the foundry, as ordered. Getting' all them tools and carts cleaned up." The ogre, suspicious that he hadn't seen anyone go to the foundry or heard that it needed cleaning, said, "cleanin' up the foundry?" Marius, with a mixture of orcish defiance and Emoran bravado, finished, "yeah, as ordered". The ogre captain, having had enough of this charade [natural 20 on the Sense Motive check!] lowered his spear at Marius and shouted over his shoulder, " You, go warn the masters that the Infidels are here! You two others, hold them here!" The ogre guards, being surprisingly well disciplined, quickly formed two ranks, two advancing, while two turned to lift the huge bar on the door.
[Turn 1]
Marius shouted in orcish, "Aiee, the guards hate us!", mumbled in Imperial "back-back-back-back-back!" under his breath, and fell back to a narrower part of the hallway, hoping to minimize the possible frontage that the Ogres could bring to bear. Cathal fell back to just in front of Marius, cast shield, and started a traditional Brigantes battle chant. From the back of the party, Lazarius jabbered something about "Albatross," the previously agreed-upon rallying cry to signal that the party should teleport away. Marcus fell back to beside Cathal and called on St. Cuthbert's shield of faith to protect himself. SWS cast heat metal on the apparent leader of the guards, who then stepped up, planted his pavise, and assumed a defensive position as his lieutenant stepped up and planted his pavise, as well. The two other ogres turned and grunted as they lift the heavy metal bar on the door, then swung the door open.
[Turn 2]
Marius squinted as he looked for a place to strike, and Cathal, still chanting the first phrase of the battlecry, entered a rage and launched a ferocious pair of attacks at the ogre lieutenant, hitting on both attacks [for a total of 39pts]. The mage, seeing a choice opportunity, cast Electrical Orb at the third ogre, who was wracked by the lightning [for 36points of dmg] and slammed into the door with a resounding clang. Marcus stepped up and attacked the ogre captain with all his might, denting the ogre's breastplate with his mace [critical hit for 29pts]. The druid looked back and forth between the ceiling and the hapless ogre who was still outlined with faint traces of arcing electricity, smiling as the Ogre captain curtly commanded "back" and stepped back 5' in lockstep with his lieutenant. The captain reached past his shield and jabbed Marcus with his spear [for 10pts] as his second swung at Cathal but was foiled by the barbarian's shield. The ogre who had been struck by Lazarius' spell struggled ineffectually as his magnetized armor clung to the huge iron door, and his companion, understanding the situation, stepped through the doorway to go warn the masters. Marius, seeing his chance, tumbled up beside the ogre captain and thrust with his rapier, but missed.
[Turn 3]
Encouraged by the success of his first flurry of blows, Cathal pressed the attack, chanting as he stepped up and attacked again, but failed to find his mark. Lazarius cast stoneskin on himself to ensure his further participation in the battle, and Speaks, cursing his concentration on one ogre that allowed the other to get away, waited for another chance to act. Marcus moved forward and swung again at the ogre captain, his blows ringing against the huge shield and driving it back. The ogre captain, somewhat startled by the ferocity of the attacks made by the poorly armed and armored orcs before him, fell back another step and made a few cursory thrusts at Marcus' face to distract him. His lieutenant, too, stepped back to maintain position and jabbed at Cathal, hoping to keep him at bay for another few seconds, with grumbling and cursing filling the air as the third ogre pushed and shoved against the door. Through the doorway, the party watched the last ogre trot down the hallway as Marius stepped forward to make another lunge at the ogre captain's armpit.
[Turn 4]
Frustrated by his inability to finish his foe, the barbarian growled and stepped in close to the ogre, cutting at his legs, unable to find a weak spot in the heavy armor. Speaks uttered the words to summon some friendly wolves to the battlefield as Lazarius sent a lesser acid orb splashing through a chink in the armor of the ogre in front of Cathal [for 6 points]. Marcus, inspired by the spellcasting going on behind him, stepped forward and drove his mace into the ogre captain's shoulder [14pts], driving the beast back to the door beside the third ogre, who had managed to turn himself to face the advancing party as his comrade clawed at the burning acid and fell heavily to the floor. Shouts of "Infidels, infidels are here!" echoed down the hallway as the fourth ogre continued on his way. Marius lunged past the huge shield and struck deep into ogre captain's back [9pts], pulling his rapier free just as the ogre fell to the ground.
[Turn 5]
His way now clear to pursue the ogre sent to raise the alarm, Cathal leapt over the fallen ogre captain and stepped through the doorway into the hallway, where his quarry lumbered away, continuing to shout his warning. Speaks' pack of summoned wolves arrived, and quickly launched themselves at the remaining ogre, snapping at his heels as Lazarius aimed his crossbow at the ogre's head. Marcus ran up to the ogre's side, hoping to get around the massive shield as the ogre skewered one of the wolves and tried to shove his spear through and into Marius, wolf and all. Marius easily sidestepped the awkwardly weighted spear and drove his rapier home for the kill [19pts].
[Turn 6]
Cathal's magic boots allowed him to easily outpace and charge the fleeing ogre, although his bastard sword glanced off the massive backplate twice as the ogre continued his flight. Just ahead, wooden doors appeared out of the darkness, and the ogre lowered his shoulder, slamming into the doors with a thunderous crash as the two stumbled into what appeared to be huge abandoned forge with another pair of doors on the far wall and a door on each side wall. Behind them, Lazarius (with Speaks on his shoulder), Marcus, and Marius began running down the tunnel...
[Turn 7]
Seeing the doors on the far side of the room, Cathal knew that time was on the side of the fleeing ogre, so he charged again and slammed his bastard sword into the fleeing ogre's neck [24pts], but the ogre only stumbled briefly as he continued his dash across the forge. Marius burst into the forge, drew up even with the ogre, and readied his net as the rest of the party continued to run down the hallway.
[Turn 8]
Cathal charged the fleeing ogre again and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as his blade found its mark [27pts] and drove the ogre to the ground. Lazarius ran into the forge room, panting, "We must get out of here!" as the remainder of the party entered just behind him to see Marius pointing dramatically at the two side entrances without speaking.
Speaks, still in Quetzal form, winged up to one of the vents in the ceiling and peered out, amazed at the lush green landscape above—it was a stark contrast to the frozen waste that they had crossed only four hours ago! To get a better look, he flew through the gate and into the canopy of trees above, as his companions below heard a noise from the double doors and moved towards one of the side doors. Marius opened the door as quietly as he could, revealing a dimly-lit room that showed signs if having been used as a coal bunker, but before the party could get through the doorway, the double doors behind them opened, revealing two more ogres, clad in enameled scale armor and covered from head to toe in blood. In an attempt to distract the ogres, Marius tossed his clockwork burglar* down the mineshaft from which they'd come, but the ogres caught a glimpse of the motion of his arm and came over to investigate.
"You, there, come out!" one of the ogres commanded to the group huddled in the doorway. Since they were unsure of what lay ahead, the party, still disguised as orcs, stepped out into the side alcove and Marius took up the conversation. The ogre pointed at the body that lay in the middle of the forge floor, still bleeding from the two wounds on its back, and demanded, "what happened here!?" Marius, who'd had a few breaths to think about this, quickly shot back, "the infidels! They came from down there, and they attacked!" and pointed down the mineshaft, from which the clockwork burglar's* footsteps could still be barely heard. The ogre nodded to the other and barked something in an unintelligible language, and the second ogre nodded and set off down the hallway to investigate. "So, what are you doing here," the ogre asked Marius, who knew better than to try the clean-up angle again. Instead, he tried a different tack, "we were down one of the side passages, and we heard some noise—when we came to investigate, we saw the infidels attacking the ogres, who told us to run in here. Once they'd killed him, they must've heard you coming, because they ran back down the hall!" The ogre, like his cousin down the hall, seemed skeptical, and suggested that the orcs should come with him back to the room beyond the double doors. Reluctantly, the party filed towards the double doors until they had gotten about even with the ogre, who merely stood with his arm outstretched, pointing towards the doors. On a sign from Marcus, they sprung into action…
(DM note: *The Clockwork Burglar is a silly item from the Arms and Equipment guide. It is a wind-up disk with “feet” circling the rim, designed to be released whereupon it will spin off down a corridor as a potential distraction. It rather clashes with the general flavor of my campaign, but I was in a charitable mood and let it work on the stipulation that they were never to buy another one.)
The stone floor was smooth with generations of use by the Orcs and the dim shapes of the huge bellows and cauldrons of the Foundry equipment hovered nearby in the darkness. They pulled forth Everburning Torches from their satchels and could make out the long chamber running off to the north. From Magdar’s description, that was the direction in which the mines themselves lay. They could see a series of tracks that ran along the floor by which carts of raw ore would be brought into the Foundry to be smelted.
Another set of tracks resumed on the opposite side of the metalworks and ran toward a broad corridor headed south. That was the path by which the iron ingots would be transported back to the City of Endless Summer to be worked into armor, weapons and tools. It was into this dark passage that the party proceeded, disguised as a ragged group of Orcs.
(until further notice the remainder of this update is written by the player of Cathal. Give him a big round of applause for his first entry into the Story Hour Forums as a writer…)
"Busted by Ogres", or "Who's Getting the Shaft, Here?"
A raid, in their opinion, would only cause the denizens of the City of Endless Summer to become suspicious, so the party decided not to take Ilrath and his greenskin companions up on their offer to cause a diversion, and instead, they changed their appearance to that of a party of orcish laborers and hoped that they could blend in with the rest of the orcs in the City. Once they had made it safely down the vent of the foundry, the party traveled for nearly four hours through the mineshaft, a 20' wide hewn stone hallway w/ mine cart tracks down the middle, running from the foundry towards the City. At this point, the hallway flared out to about 30'-40' wide and ends with a worked stone wall with a sturdy metal door barring their way.
Did I mention the ogres?
Four Ogres wearing full plate and carrying massive shields stood guard here, and one of them stepped slightly forward, challenging in orcish, "Oi, what're you lot doin' here?" Marius replied that "we were cleanin' up the foundry, as ordered. Getting' all them tools and carts cleaned up." The ogre, suspicious that he hadn't seen anyone go to the foundry or heard that it needed cleaning, said, "cleanin' up the foundry?" Marius, with a mixture of orcish defiance and Emoran bravado, finished, "yeah, as ordered". The ogre captain, having had enough of this charade [natural 20 on the Sense Motive check!] lowered his spear at Marius and shouted over his shoulder, " You, go warn the masters that the Infidels are here! You two others, hold them here!" The ogre guards, being surprisingly well disciplined, quickly formed two ranks, two advancing, while two turned to lift the huge bar on the door.
[Turn 1]
Marius shouted in orcish, "Aiee, the guards hate us!", mumbled in Imperial "back-back-back-back-back!" under his breath, and fell back to a narrower part of the hallway, hoping to minimize the possible frontage that the Ogres could bring to bear. Cathal fell back to just in front of Marius, cast shield, and started a traditional Brigantes battle chant. From the back of the party, Lazarius jabbered something about "Albatross," the previously agreed-upon rallying cry to signal that the party should teleport away. Marcus fell back to beside Cathal and called on St. Cuthbert's shield of faith to protect himself. SWS cast heat metal on the apparent leader of the guards, who then stepped up, planted his pavise, and assumed a defensive position as his lieutenant stepped up and planted his pavise, as well. The two other ogres turned and grunted as they lift the heavy metal bar on the door, then swung the door open.
[Turn 2]
Marius squinted as he looked for a place to strike, and Cathal, still chanting the first phrase of the battlecry, entered a rage and launched a ferocious pair of attacks at the ogre lieutenant, hitting on both attacks [for a total of 39pts]. The mage, seeing a choice opportunity, cast Electrical Orb at the third ogre, who was wracked by the lightning [for 36points of dmg] and slammed into the door with a resounding clang. Marcus stepped up and attacked the ogre captain with all his might, denting the ogre's breastplate with his mace [critical hit for 29pts]. The druid looked back and forth between the ceiling and the hapless ogre who was still outlined with faint traces of arcing electricity, smiling as the Ogre captain curtly commanded "back" and stepped back 5' in lockstep with his lieutenant. The captain reached past his shield and jabbed Marcus with his spear [for 10pts] as his second swung at Cathal but was foiled by the barbarian's shield. The ogre who had been struck by Lazarius' spell struggled ineffectually as his magnetized armor clung to the huge iron door, and his companion, understanding the situation, stepped through the doorway to go warn the masters. Marius, seeing his chance, tumbled up beside the ogre captain and thrust with his rapier, but missed.
[Turn 3]
Encouraged by the success of his first flurry of blows, Cathal pressed the attack, chanting as he stepped up and attacked again, but failed to find his mark. Lazarius cast stoneskin on himself to ensure his further participation in the battle, and Speaks, cursing his concentration on one ogre that allowed the other to get away, waited for another chance to act. Marcus moved forward and swung again at the ogre captain, his blows ringing against the huge shield and driving it back. The ogre captain, somewhat startled by the ferocity of the attacks made by the poorly armed and armored orcs before him, fell back another step and made a few cursory thrusts at Marcus' face to distract him. His lieutenant, too, stepped back to maintain position and jabbed at Cathal, hoping to keep him at bay for another few seconds, with grumbling and cursing filling the air as the third ogre pushed and shoved against the door. Through the doorway, the party watched the last ogre trot down the hallway as Marius stepped forward to make another lunge at the ogre captain's armpit.
[Turn 4]
Frustrated by his inability to finish his foe, the barbarian growled and stepped in close to the ogre, cutting at his legs, unable to find a weak spot in the heavy armor. Speaks uttered the words to summon some friendly wolves to the battlefield as Lazarius sent a lesser acid orb splashing through a chink in the armor of the ogre in front of Cathal [for 6 points]. Marcus, inspired by the spellcasting going on behind him, stepped forward and drove his mace into the ogre captain's shoulder [14pts], driving the beast back to the door beside the third ogre, who had managed to turn himself to face the advancing party as his comrade clawed at the burning acid and fell heavily to the floor. Shouts of "Infidels, infidels are here!" echoed down the hallway as the fourth ogre continued on his way. Marius lunged past the huge shield and struck deep into ogre captain's back [9pts], pulling his rapier free just as the ogre fell to the ground.
[Turn 5]
His way now clear to pursue the ogre sent to raise the alarm, Cathal leapt over the fallen ogre captain and stepped through the doorway into the hallway, where his quarry lumbered away, continuing to shout his warning. Speaks' pack of summoned wolves arrived, and quickly launched themselves at the remaining ogre, snapping at his heels as Lazarius aimed his crossbow at the ogre's head. Marcus ran up to the ogre's side, hoping to get around the massive shield as the ogre skewered one of the wolves and tried to shove his spear through and into Marius, wolf and all. Marius easily sidestepped the awkwardly weighted spear and drove his rapier home for the kill [19pts].
[Turn 6]
Cathal's magic boots allowed him to easily outpace and charge the fleeing ogre, although his bastard sword glanced off the massive backplate twice as the ogre continued his flight. Just ahead, wooden doors appeared out of the darkness, and the ogre lowered his shoulder, slamming into the doors with a thunderous crash as the two stumbled into what appeared to be huge abandoned forge with another pair of doors on the far wall and a door on each side wall. Behind them, Lazarius (with Speaks on his shoulder), Marcus, and Marius began running down the tunnel...
[Turn 7]
Seeing the doors on the far side of the room, Cathal knew that time was on the side of the fleeing ogre, so he charged again and slammed his bastard sword into the fleeing ogre's neck [24pts], but the ogre only stumbled briefly as he continued his dash across the forge. Marius burst into the forge, drew up even with the ogre, and readied his net as the rest of the party continued to run down the hallway.
[Turn 8]
Cathal charged the fleeing ogre again and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as his blade found its mark [27pts] and drove the ogre to the ground. Lazarius ran into the forge room, panting, "We must get out of here!" as the remainder of the party entered just behind him to see Marius pointing dramatically at the two side entrances without speaking.
Speaks, still in Quetzal form, winged up to one of the vents in the ceiling and peered out, amazed at the lush green landscape above—it was a stark contrast to the frozen waste that they had crossed only four hours ago! To get a better look, he flew through the gate and into the canopy of trees above, as his companions below heard a noise from the double doors and moved towards one of the side doors. Marius opened the door as quietly as he could, revealing a dimly-lit room that showed signs if having been used as a coal bunker, but before the party could get through the doorway, the double doors behind them opened, revealing two more ogres, clad in enameled scale armor and covered from head to toe in blood. In an attempt to distract the ogres, Marius tossed his clockwork burglar* down the mineshaft from which they'd come, but the ogres caught a glimpse of the motion of his arm and came over to investigate.
"You, there, come out!" one of the ogres commanded to the group huddled in the doorway. Since they were unsure of what lay ahead, the party, still disguised as orcs, stepped out into the side alcove and Marius took up the conversation. The ogre pointed at the body that lay in the middle of the forge floor, still bleeding from the two wounds on its back, and demanded, "what happened here!?" Marius, who'd had a few breaths to think about this, quickly shot back, "the infidels! They came from down there, and they attacked!" and pointed down the mineshaft, from which the clockwork burglar's* footsteps could still be barely heard. The ogre nodded to the other and barked something in an unintelligible language, and the second ogre nodded and set off down the hallway to investigate. "So, what are you doing here," the ogre asked Marius, who knew better than to try the clean-up angle again. Instead, he tried a different tack, "we were down one of the side passages, and we heard some noise—when we came to investigate, we saw the infidels attacking the ogres, who told us to run in here. Once they'd killed him, they must've heard you coming, because they ran back down the hall!" The ogre, like his cousin down the hall, seemed skeptical, and suggested that the orcs should come with him back to the room beyond the double doors. Reluctantly, the party filed towards the double doors until they had gotten about even with the ogre, who merely stood with his arm outstretched, pointing towards the doors. On a sign from Marcus, they sprung into action…
(DM note: *The Clockwork Burglar is a silly item from the Arms and Equipment guide. It is a wind-up disk with “feet” circling the rim, designed to be released whereupon it will spin off down a corridor as a potential distraction. It rather clashes with the general flavor of my campaign, but I was in a charitable mood and let it work on the stipulation that they were never to buy another one.)
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