Ch. 5: “Wherein our heroes get the first inklings of their tiny, annoying place in destiny’s web.”
Indigo raised her eyebrows as the soldier gasped and passed out. She pried the man’s hand off her arm and leaned over the wagon edge. “Excusing me. Does anyone know what Cambragia is?”
Kirby and Taggart shrugged, busy swishing wine around in their mouth to get the taste of rat-blood out. Alec dropped to the ground beside them. “Little supply town in the center of the Blood Steppes. Barely existed before the war, but now …” he shook his head. “It’s been behind enemy lines for all three years. Probably no more than a smoking pile of cinders.”
“The grey-haired one said we should bring the girl to Cambragia. And we shouldn’t use poofy magic to heal her.”
“Not much risk of that, at least not today,” Argent piped up from behind them. He crossed to the comatose officer, checked her pulse. “Goddess, she’s burning up though. Her jaw’s locked … and here –“ he pointed, “ -- crossbow bolt wound, but it’s swollen …” Argent rocked back on his heels, stroked his goatee. “It looks like the wound’s been poisoned.”
Alec considered his newfound companions. He knew Indigo was an Oathblade of Vesh. Despite the rather … unusual way she’d acquired that title, she was well known to be fanatically honorable. Of dubious morality, but fanatically honorable. Argent was plainly a dedicated cleric of Madriel. The man had set up an aid station in the guts of the trenches. Kirby and Taggart were the wild cards. They plainly weren’t working for the Bandit King, and neither appeared Calastian. He decided to risk it. “Well then, I suggest we continue on to Cambragia, for two reasons. First, if it is still intact, it’s the closest spot of civilization away from the front lines.”
“But in the wrong direction from the front lines,” Indigo objected.
“If there is even a front line. Or a war,” Kirby continued. “The center of the battlefield’s got a mile-wide smoking crater in the middle of it.”
“So what if the titanspawn army lost its leadership?” Taggart asked, shrugging out of his stolen armor. He pulled his Termana duster back on, instinctively shifted his weight back and forth to get the feel of the weighted coat-edge. “There’s still a couple thousand of the unholy things crawling over every cliff between us and Vesh. Plus, they’ll be royally ticked off.”
“If Cambragia still exists, then it’s a strongpoint in a wilderness, and not a bad place to be. Second, if Cambragia is the key to saving her life, then we need to get there. Because we do not want that lieutenant dying on our watch.” The others stared at the girl, shrugged. Alec finished: “That’s Vivian Godwyn. She’s the youngest daughter of the Lord of Vesh, fourth in line to the Throne. And now she’s our bloody responsibility."
"Wait a second," Taggart interrupted. "We didn't sign on to play healer to royal brats in over their heads."
"We technically didn't sign on for anything," Kirby reminded him. Taggart waved him off.
Alec sighed. "Use your brains for just one moment. What exactly do you think will happen to anyone who lets a royal heir die from poison?”
There was a long, thoughtful pause. Almost on cue, all five swung back into the wagon. Alec took the driver’s spot, lifted the reins. “Cambragia it is then.”
******************************
It took them two days of hacking through the ravines and gullies of the Blood Steppes to find Cambragia. The rain was gone, but steel-grey clouds still scudded across blue skies, all over the dark red rocks of the Steppes. One couldn't ask for a more beautiful land to die in.
Kirby was riding up front with Alec. His preternatural eyes dilated. "There, swing down into that valley. Some sort of settlement."
Argent, exhausted, pulled himself up on the wagon interior to see. Through sheer force of will, the blessings of Madriel and his cunning knowledge of local herbs, he'd managed to not lose a single injured soldier on the trip. "I don't see --"
But as the wagon swung over the next ridge, a small settlement peeked out from the woods and rock. They approached from the south, cresting a high ridge. The opposite side of the canyon was a mile or two away, hemmed in by a massive 500 foot high red rock sheer wall. A lazy river snaked along the bottom of the canyon, allowing thick forest to carpet the bottom of the canyon and even struggle up the cliff walls.
The settlement itself perched on the other side of the river, its back secured by the vast canyon wall. At one time Cambragia must have been bigger -- they could see ruins of stone buildings scattered among the surrounding forest. But what was left of Cambragia had retreated to a small clearing. The village was surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wooden palisade wall on three sides, the canyon cliffs forming the fourth wall. Charge-breakers, nettles of sharpened stakes as high as a man's chest, lay in staggered lines outside the walls. A single gate faced a narrow bridge spanning the river.
Indigo squinted. "It has a certain rustic charm."
The wagon approached the settlement. Suddenly, sentries on the walls cried out. Just as they reached the edge of the bridge, a giant of a man rose from a blind set at the river's edge.
He stood well past six and a half feet tall, had to be two hundred forty pounds of sheer muscle. He was blonde with the tribal scarring of Albadian savages coating his bare chest. His warhammer was crude, more like a blacksmith's hammer. Both head and shaft of the hammer were solid metal.
Taggart whispered. "That thing has to weigh a hundred pounds." The giant man swung the hammer over one shoulder casually. "Ah. Time to make a new friend."
"I AM OLAF!" the man bellowed. "WHO ARE YOU?!"
"Well whoever we are, we're not deaf," Kirby muttered.
Alec raised a hand. "I am Lars Derigesh --" the others frowned at his alias, but said nothing. " -- we bring wounded from the Iron Throne to your town for sanctuary."
Olaf laughed bitterly. "We have no sanctuary here! We are attacked every moon by titanspawn. Our people starve, living off scraps of a garden within. We do not know you. Begone!"
Up on the gate and wall four archers appeared. Their bows creaked as they were drawn back, arrows nocked.
Kirby stood up, radiating charm. "We bring tidings. The war is over."
That got their attention. The archers eased their bows. A sharp yell from Olaf had them back at firing position immediately. Olaf frowned. "You lie, to get inside our walls."
"Haven't you seen, the rain has stopped," Alec pressed. "We also bear a message for one called Rupert."
Olaf frowned at this. They could almost hear the huge gears in his head clunking along. "We will let you in ..." Olaf turned, and with a stunning display of strength he climbed the gate one handed, the other swing his massive warhammer. He balanced atop the wooden barricade. "... but know I have a hundred men inside, ready to strike you down!"
Olaf jumped into the village. The party waited for the gates to creak open. "He's lying, of course" Taggart whispered.
"How do you know?" asked Argent.
"Because we lie for a living," Kirby smiled.
*******************************
The inside of the village was a filthy, ruined mess. The entire western section of the encampment was a shantytown of tents and hovels. To the east were the remains of two streets of two-story townhouses. Taggart noticed the gutted windows, the smoky fires from roof-kitchens, all tell-tale signs of dozens crammed into spaces meant for two or three. The stench of an open sewage space slapped them in the face as they crossed into Cambragia.
Kirby pointed to the cliff wall. "Look, charge-breakers at the base of the cliff, so if you're mad enough to rappel down that thing, you're skewered when you land." He pointed to the walls. "Walkways, sentries with fires every fifty feet, more spikes on the outside and inside. Bloody hell, you invade this place, you get a face full of arrows, ripped apart by the exterior spikes, then get trapped even when you get over the wall." He nodded to Olaf. "This fortification is incredible."
Olaf swelled with pride. "When Olaf was young, Olaf used to burn down many villages like this one, kill the men, ravage the women, pillage, you know, blah blah blah ..." The party chuckled nervously. "Olaf just built walls Olaf would hate to attack."
Here at the gate were three relatively intact buildings. To their immediate left was a patched Sheriff's office/jail. One block behind that was a stub of a stone tower -- like a magician's tower with the top blown off. Maybe three floors remained. The building to their right was an inn. Olaf kicked in the door. "Ronin!"
The stubby barkeep, Ronin, emerged. Before he could speak, Olaf swept everything off the nearest table. "These people rescued Vesh soldiers! We have wounded!"
The party set up a triage, laying soldiers on the tables. Ronin began objecting, but his broad-sholdered Shelzari wife Myrna cut him off. "I'll boil water. Zed!" At her shout a stringy 15 year-old boy rushed forward. "Grab clean sheets and bring pails of water, fast as you can." Some serving girls entered from the back, and Myrna immediately drafted them.
Argent lept into control. He'd set up a hundred such treatment facilites during the war. The others helped at first, but finally wound up backing away to the bar, staying out of his way. Taggart watched his brother with ... "Kirby, what's the emotion, opposite of shame? Like, not-shame."
"Um, pride?"
"I'll be damned." Taggart fought a grin.
The front door slammed open. To the party's astonishment, the figure filling the door ... didn't quite fill the door. He was a gnome. Not one of the savage tribesmen Taggart knew from Termana, but one of the educated dwarf-cousins of Ghelspad. They were scribes, scholars, and most of all, spies extraordinaire. Rumor had it there existed a Great Network of spies pervading all of Ghelspad, the Gnomes being its masters.
"I'm Rupert," the gnome snapped with an educated accent. He wore a fine, gaudy bright-colored vest and breeches with a starch-white shirt. He had corrective eye-lenses, a gnomish affectation. Adding to his odd appearance was his right hand: it was entirely encased in a thick leather glove which plainly stretched up past that elbow. "This had better be good."
Alec took the lead. "This man --" he pointed to the older sargeant, "-- insisted we bring this girl --" he pointed to Vivian Godwyn, "-- to you. She's been poisoned."
Rupert gazed at the sargeant. "Merrick, never do know when to quit." His expression softened. He crossed to Vivian, coughed. He plainly recognized her also. He checked her crossbow wound. "Oh dear. All right. We need to know how what's gotten into her." He produced a syphon from a small pack on his waist, filled it with her blood.
"Don't use magic," Indigo blurted.
Rupert smiled. "No need to be so ... crude." With that, he reached forward and removed the long glove on his right hand and arm. Despite their worldliness, not one of the party didn't gasp.
His arm from the elbow down was a glass construct. Within that construct whirred a thousand tiny pistons, valves, test-tubes, fluids and gears.
It was a clockwork glass arm.
The gnome was wearing his own prosthetic masterwork alchemist's lab.
Indigo raised her eyebrows as the soldier gasped and passed out. She pried the man’s hand off her arm and leaned over the wagon edge. “Excusing me. Does anyone know what Cambragia is?”
Kirby and Taggart shrugged, busy swishing wine around in their mouth to get the taste of rat-blood out. Alec dropped to the ground beside them. “Little supply town in the center of the Blood Steppes. Barely existed before the war, but now …” he shook his head. “It’s been behind enemy lines for all three years. Probably no more than a smoking pile of cinders.”
“The grey-haired one said we should bring the girl to Cambragia. And we shouldn’t use poofy magic to heal her.”
“Not much risk of that, at least not today,” Argent piped up from behind them. He crossed to the comatose officer, checked her pulse. “Goddess, she’s burning up though. Her jaw’s locked … and here –“ he pointed, “ -- crossbow bolt wound, but it’s swollen …” Argent rocked back on his heels, stroked his goatee. “It looks like the wound’s been poisoned.”
Alec considered his newfound companions. He knew Indigo was an Oathblade of Vesh. Despite the rather … unusual way she’d acquired that title, she was well known to be fanatically honorable. Of dubious morality, but fanatically honorable. Argent was plainly a dedicated cleric of Madriel. The man had set up an aid station in the guts of the trenches. Kirby and Taggart were the wild cards. They plainly weren’t working for the Bandit King, and neither appeared Calastian. He decided to risk it. “Well then, I suggest we continue on to Cambragia, for two reasons. First, if it is still intact, it’s the closest spot of civilization away from the front lines.”
“But in the wrong direction from the front lines,” Indigo objected.
“If there is even a front line. Or a war,” Kirby continued. “The center of the battlefield’s got a mile-wide smoking crater in the middle of it.”
“So what if the titanspawn army lost its leadership?” Taggart asked, shrugging out of his stolen armor. He pulled his Termana duster back on, instinctively shifted his weight back and forth to get the feel of the weighted coat-edge. “There’s still a couple thousand of the unholy things crawling over every cliff between us and Vesh. Plus, they’ll be royally ticked off.”
“If Cambragia still exists, then it’s a strongpoint in a wilderness, and not a bad place to be. Second, if Cambragia is the key to saving her life, then we need to get there. Because we do not want that lieutenant dying on our watch.” The others stared at the girl, shrugged. Alec finished: “That’s Vivian Godwyn. She’s the youngest daughter of the Lord of Vesh, fourth in line to the Throne. And now she’s our bloody responsibility."
"Wait a second," Taggart interrupted. "We didn't sign on to play healer to royal brats in over their heads."
"We technically didn't sign on for anything," Kirby reminded him. Taggart waved him off.
Alec sighed. "Use your brains for just one moment. What exactly do you think will happen to anyone who lets a royal heir die from poison?”
There was a long, thoughtful pause. Almost on cue, all five swung back into the wagon. Alec took the driver’s spot, lifted the reins. “Cambragia it is then.”
******************************
It took them two days of hacking through the ravines and gullies of the Blood Steppes to find Cambragia. The rain was gone, but steel-grey clouds still scudded across blue skies, all over the dark red rocks of the Steppes. One couldn't ask for a more beautiful land to die in.
Kirby was riding up front with Alec. His preternatural eyes dilated. "There, swing down into that valley. Some sort of settlement."
Argent, exhausted, pulled himself up on the wagon interior to see. Through sheer force of will, the blessings of Madriel and his cunning knowledge of local herbs, he'd managed to not lose a single injured soldier on the trip. "I don't see --"
But as the wagon swung over the next ridge, a small settlement peeked out from the woods and rock. They approached from the south, cresting a high ridge. The opposite side of the canyon was a mile or two away, hemmed in by a massive 500 foot high red rock sheer wall. A lazy river snaked along the bottom of the canyon, allowing thick forest to carpet the bottom of the canyon and even struggle up the cliff walls.
The settlement itself perched on the other side of the river, its back secured by the vast canyon wall. At one time Cambragia must have been bigger -- they could see ruins of stone buildings scattered among the surrounding forest. But what was left of Cambragia had retreated to a small clearing. The village was surrounded by a fifteen-foot high wooden palisade wall on three sides, the canyon cliffs forming the fourth wall. Charge-breakers, nettles of sharpened stakes as high as a man's chest, lay in staggered lines outside the walls. A single gate faced a narrow bridge spanning the river.
Indigo squinted. "It has a certain rustic charm."
The wagon approached the settlement. Suddenly, sentries on the walls cried out. Just as they reached the edge of the bridge, a giant of a man rose from a blind set at the river's edge.
He stood well past six and a half feet tall, had to be two hundred forty pounds of sheer muscle. He was blonde with the tribal scarring of Albadian savages coating his bare chest. His warhammer was crude, more like a blacksmith's hammer. Both head and shaft of the hammer were solid metal.
Taggart whispered. "That thing has to weigh a hundred pounds." The giant man swung the hammer over one shoulder casually. "Ah. Time to make a new friend."
"I AM OLAF!" the man bellowed. "WHO ARE YOU?!"
"Well whoever we are, we're not deaf," Kirby muttered.
Alec raised a hand. "I am Lars Derigesh --" the others frowned at his alias, but said nothing. " -- we bring wounded from the Iron Throne to your town for sanctuary."
Olaf laughed bitterly. "We have no sanctuary here! We are attacked every moon by titanspawn. Our people starve, living off scraps of a garden within. We do not know you. Begone!"
Up on the gate and wall four archers appeared. Their bows creaked as they were drawn back, arrows nocked.
Kirby stood up, radiating charm. "We bring tidings. The war is over."
That got their attention. The archers eased their bows. A sharp yell from Olaf had them back at firing position immediately. Olaf frowned. "You lie, to get inside our walls."
"Haven't you seen, the rain has stopped," Alec pressed. "We also bear a message for one called Rupert."
Olaf frowned at this. They could almost hear the huge gears in his head clunking along. "We will let you in ..." Olaf turned, and with a stunning display of strength he climbed the gate one handed, the other swing his massive warhammer. He balanced atop the wooden barricade. "... but know I have a hundred men inside, ready to strike you down!"
Olaf jumped into the village. The party waited for the gates to creak open. "He's lying, of course" Taggart whispered.
"How do you know?" asked Argent.
"Because we lie for a living," Kirby smiled.
*******************************
The inside of the village was a filthy, ruined mess. The entire western section of the encampment was a shantytown of tents and hovels. To the east were the remains of two streets of two-story townhouses. Taggart noticed the gutted windows, the smoky fires from roof-kitchens, all tell-tale signs of dozens crammed into spaces meant for two or three. The stench of an open sewage space slapped them in the face as they crossed into Cambragia.
Kirby pointed to the cliff wall. "Look, charge-breakers at the base of the cliff, so if you're mad enough to rappel down that thing, you're skewered when you land." He pointed to the walls. "Walkways, sentries with fires every fifty feet, more spikes on the outside and inside. Bloody hell, you invade this place, you get a face full of arrows, ripped apart by the exterior spikes, then get trapped even when you get over the wall." He nodded to Olaf. "This fortification is incredible."
Olaf swelled with pride. "When Olaf was young, Olaf used to burn down many villages like this one, kill the men, ravage the women, pillage, you know, blah blah blah ..." The party chuckled nervously. "Olaf just built walls Olaf would hate to attack."
Here at the gate were three relatively intact buildings. To their immediate left was a patched Sheriff's office/jail. One block behind that was a stub of a stone tower -- like a magician's tower with the top blown off. Maybe three floors remained. The building to their right was an inn. Olaf kicked in the door. "Ronin!"
The stubby barkeep, Ronin, emerged. Before he could speak, Olaf swept everything off the nearest table. "These people rescued Vesh soldiers! We have wounded!"
The party set up a triage, laying soldiers on the tables. Ronin began objecting, but his broad-sholdered Shelzari wife Myrna cut him off. "I'll boil water. Zed!" At her shout a stringy 15 year-old boy rushed forward. "Grab clean sheets and bring pails of water, fast as you can." Some serving girls entered from the back, and Myrna immediately drafted them.
Argent lept into control. He'd set up a hundred such treatment facilites during the war. The others helped at first, but finally wound up backing away to the bar, staying out of his way. Taggart watched his brother with ... "Kirby, what's the emotion, opposite of shame? Like, not-shame."
"Um, pride?"
"I'll be damned." Taggart fought a grin.
The front door slammed open. To the party's astonishment, the figure filling the door ... didn't quite fill the door. He was a gnome. Not one of the savage tribesmen Taggart knew from Termana, but one of the educated dwarf-cousins of Ghelspad. They were scribes, scholars, and most of all, spies extraordinaire. Rumor had it there existed a Great Network of spies pervading all of Ghelspad, the Gnomes being its masters.
"I'm Rupert," the gnome snapped with an educated accent. He wore a fine, gaudy bright-colored vest and breeches with a starch-white shirt. He had corrective eye-lenses, a gnomish affectation. Adding to his odd appearance was his right hand: it was entirely encased in a thick leather glove which plainly stretched up past that elbow. "This had better be good."
Alec took the lead. "This man --" he pointed to the older sargeant, "-- insisted we bring this girl --" he pointed to Vivian Godwyn, "-- to you. She's been poisoned."
Rupert gazed at the sargeant. "Merrick, never do know when to quit." His expression softened. He crossed to Vivian, coughed. He plainly recognized her also. He checked her crossbow wound. "Oh dear. All right. We need to know how what's gotten into her." He produced a syphon from a small pack on his waist, filled it with her blood.
"Don't use magic," Indigo blurted.
Rupert smiled. "No need to be so ... crude." With that, he reached forward and removed the long glove on his right hand and arm. Despite their worldliness, not one of the party didn't gasp.
His arm from the elbow down was a glass construct. Within that construct whirred a thousand tiny pistons, valves, test-tubes, fluids and gears.
It was a clockwork glass arm.
The gnome was wearing his own prosthetic masterwork alchemist's lab.
Who'd a thunk it!
I'm most definately stealing this little idea, far too cool a gadget for someone that likes tech-toys as much as I do. Now to figure a way to get a character that has one of these!
