Servants of the Swift Sword (A Kalamar campaign)

[Wicht]

Chapter 24 – Elias’ Fort

True to his word, the Sheriff allowed Tilliana and the boys to keep whatever they wanted from both the barn and the house belonging to the cult. Tilliana reclaimed the Demon Stone, which the cult’s leader had been using as a sacrificial altar and from which he had been summoning demons when Tilliana and the boys had barged into the barn. A search of the house turned up the other things stolen from them as well as a good deal of money and some valuable art and gems. Tilliana presided over the sale of these things and sent to Geanavue for a suit of high quality plate armor with the money she made.

In addition to the material possessions they had acquired, a search of the house used by the cult also turned up documentation showing that the cult had been a part of a smuggling ring for ingredients in black rituals and dark magics. They had received shipments from the orcs in the old keep and had sent them on to the coast. Tilliana sent these papers to Geanavue as well for the men of the Watch there to go over.
The matters of business were interrupted by the arrival of Alairic, Niccolo and Kinshag. A query as to where they had been for ten days caused Alairic to blush.

“Someone got us lost,” said Niccolo staring daggers at the paladin who kicked his feet and mumbled something incomprehensible.

They spent another week in Terfiindel whilst the dwarven smith Tilliana was dealing with custom fitted a suit of armor for her. It was lighter in weight than normal plate and allowed her to move easier. But it was also magnificent in its appearance and when it was done and she donned it, she appeared resplendent and knightly.

They left Terfiindel on the 16th of Declerations. Their destination was the area settled by Tilliana’s father and his friends. Tilliana left Jozz and Kall behind to watch over the remaining bulk of her money and to help restore some semblance of order to the poor town. She drove a new wagon, packed with all manners of new equipment. Prancer walked behind the wagon and her companions rode their horses. Any semblance of maintained paths soon ended and the going became slower, especially for the wagon.

They made camp that night and then continued onward in the morning. Though the area was not heavily wooded, shrubs and tall grass grew unchecked. They traveled for most of the day until finally, about two hours before dusk, they saw ahead of them the ground start to become more mountainous. They could see a waterfall above them and to the north, about four miles in the distance. They stopped to consult Tilliana’s map.

“There was a castle,” said Tilliana, “built above a waterfall. Its marked here by the bat and the words, evil only sleeps. I say we head that way and we will soon know if we are in the right area.”
That sounded good to the others and so they began to steer in the direction of the still distant falls. None of them heard the wolves surround them.

There first warning was the rustling of grass as four large wolves charged in, two on each side. Two of them rushed at Prancer, tied as she was to the back of the wagon. The other two charged Alairic and his horse, their jaws snapping at Trance.
Prancer screamed and reared at the wolves biting at him. One of his hooves connected with one of the wolves, knocking it back. And then Tilliana was leaping over the back of the wagon and jumping to the ground next to her warhorse. Razor-tongue flashed through the air and in seconds both wolves were dead.

Alairic’s horse also reared as one of the wolves bit him and Alairic was forced to hold on tightly, unable to draw his blade. Two-socks, Niccolo’s wolf companion growled and charged at one of the wolves. They rolled together on the ground and then Niccolo was riding in close, sword out. He swung down and the strange wold was dead. Kinshag drew his sword and tried to run down the fourth wolf. But the animal ducked away from the charge and moved in once more to attack Trance. It never got the chance. Tilliana rushed from besides her wagon and Razor-tongue ended the life of the remaining wolf.

Two-socks rolled to his feet, sniffed the carcass of the dead wolf and then trotted over besides Niccolo.

“Wow, Tilliana,” said Alairic, “Three of them. Leave some for us!”

“Did you see that?” said Niccolo.

“What,” said Tilliana and Alairic.

“Yes,” said Kinshag.

“A flash of white, over there, in the growth. Something small.” Niccolo walked over and examined the ground where he had seen the movement.

“It had to be a small creature, but I see no tracks,” said Niccolo as he scanned the ground. Shaking his head he returned to the other three.

Alairic laid his hands on Trance and healed the wounds of horse.

“Shall we continue then?” said Tilliana, climbing up once more into her wagon.

They had only gone another half a mile however before they met another small obstacle. Marching towards them from the north they saw a squad of ten animated skeletons. There was no mistaking the intent of the undead.

“Wait and leave them for me,” said Tilliana, standing in her wagon. The other three pulled their horses to a halt and watched the skeletons draw closer and closer, moving with an unholy energy. Tilliana lifted her divine focus and as soon as the skeletons charged in at the four she called upon Naemae. A burst of divine light shone forth from her focus and all ten of the charging skeletons burst into dust at the same time, a dust that moved forward with the momentum of the charge and then was scattered on the wind.

Tilliana sat back down.

From ahead of them and to the left there came suddenly the sound of someone cursing softly and then the sound of quick movement. Straining to see, however, revealed no one to be there.

“That’s strange,” said Alairic.

***************************

They traveled only a bit further and they found themselves atop a gently sloping hill. At the bottom of the hill, traveling through a small valley was a stream. The remnants of houses dotted the hillside and across the stream atop another hill was a small fort. Behind the fort grew a wood.

There was an old mill by the stream, it looked to be in disrepair, and about halfway up the hill, in the midst of the abandoned settlement was the remains of a grain silo.

Surveying the scene, Tilliana noted, “We could cross the stream and spend the night in the fort. Its walls would give us some shelter.”

But there seemed to be no way of crossing the stream save swimming. The remains of a bridge could be made out, but it was long past servicable.

“We only have an hour till nightfall,” said Niccolo, scanning the sky.

“We don’t know how deep the stream is,” said Alairic, “I say we camp down by the stream, just past the ruined houses.”

They traveled slowly down the hill, passing the shells of houses long empty. A few of them still sported walls, but many of them were just piles of collapsed walls and rubble.

They stopped and began to make camp. Alairic led the horses to the stream and let them drink. Niccolo bent and spoke to his wolf, two-socks, and after a brief exchange he sent the wolf to scout out the area. Kinshag gathered wood and began lighting a fire.

“Let’s set up some defenses,” said Tilliana, “I have a good supply of Caltrops in the wagon. Let’s set them up around the camp.”

“I’ll do that,” said Niccolo.

“I also have bells,” said Tilliana. “We can fasten them to ropes and set them up around the camp to ring if anyone approaches.”

Tilliana went to arrange the bells. Niccolo started with the caltrops. The shadows lengthened as the sun descended past the horizon.

Niccolo was almost done laying the caltrops when he smelled something. He was just west of the others. Looking up, the smell hit him almost at the same time as he became aware of a small host of foul looking creatures rushing at him noiselessly. He recognized them as ghouls, nine of them. The smell was foul and strong, nearly overpowering. He struggled not to retch and drew his sword just as the first was upon him. The thing was thin and scabrous with glowing eyes. It charged at him, its teeth bared. Barrelling into Niccolo the undead flesh eater bit him, tearing past the half-elf’s chain shirt and drawing blood. Niccolo felt his muscles freezing and fought to move. But it was no good. He was paralyzed.

The others however were swift to respond. Running as fast as he could, Alairic covered the distance from the stream, up the slope, pulling out his divine focus. Tilliana was right behind him. Alairic cried aloud and divine light poured forth from his silk symbol of Naemae. Five of the ghouls turned to flee. Tilliana did the same and with a scream, the ghouls began to melt and burn, even those that had started to flee. All except for the one that had bitten Niccolo. Stronger and more fell, it snarled.

Kinshag rushed at it, great ax at the ready. The monster turned quickly to meet this new threat and bit at Kinshag even as the ax descended. Kinshag cried aloud as the thing bit him and his ax missed its mark. Another bite and a scratch of its deadly claws caused Kinshag’s muscles to tighten and freeze.

Alairic covered the rest of the distance and swung his sword down. There was a flash of holy energy as the blade connected with dead flesh and then Tilliana was there, swinging Razor-tongue. The creature fell to the ground unmoving.

When Niccolo and Kinshag were able to move again, Niccolo traced the tracks of the ghouls back to the old mill. But as it was getting dark he decided not to go in. Instead he returned to camp and finished laying the caltrops. Then, taking the ropes Tilliana had prepared with the bells, he began to tie it down.

Alairic watched Niccolo work for a moment and then commented, “Shouldn’t you lay the bells on the other side of the caltrops, just past them in a wider perimeter.”

Niccolo stared at the Paladin for a moment and then with a groan of frustration he undid what he had done and started again.

In the meantime night had truly and deeply come.

 

[Wicht]

Chapter 25: Elias’ Fort

The night was clear and bright. They had not yet tried to sleep, though Alairic had broached the subject of keeping watches. Kinshag had lit a good fire and they were seated around it keeping warm.

“Mew,” whispered a white cat silkily as it crept into the firelight. Its short fur was dirty and it looked a little thin. Looking at the four companions cautiously it inched slowly closer to the fire.

“Ahh,” said Niccolo and breaking off some of the food he was eating he tossed it to the cat.

The cat looked at Niccolo for a moment and then gingerly poked at the food. Satisfied, it then proceeded to gulp it down. Having eaten it lay down by the warm fire for a moment. They stared at it for a while.

Suddenly the cat perked its ears up and it stood. Then, with a look to the east it ran off to the west, passing quickly out of the firelight. Niccolo stood and drew out his rapier. In a minute, from the east, there came the sound of slow movement. Shuffling footsteps indicated that something was coming their way. Kinshag moved to the edge of the firelight and peered out.

“I see nine figures,” he said, “They move slowly… They move like dead men… zombies.”

“Tilliana, get over here,” said Alairic from besides Kinshag.

Tilliana pulled forth her divine focus and walked near the others to call down the wrath of Naemae on the undead creatures. The zombies moved closer and closer.

Holding her divine focus forward, Tilliana waited. The zombie lurched closer. With a brief prayer Tilliana called forth upon the divine power of her god and in seconds nine zombies became two as the other seven let out groans of pain and collapsed in heaps of burnt unmoving flesh. Alairic and Kinshag rushed forward and in seconds the last two were on the ground unmoving as well.

Niccolo was standing just behind Tilliana, facing Kinshag and Alairic as they mowed down the last two zombies. A bolt of magical energy flew out of the darkness from behind him and struck him in the rear.

“Ouch!” exclaimed Niccolo. The pain was very real, though not life-threatening. The four companions whirled around and looked out over their campfire and peered into the night. They saw no-one to the east.

“Up there!” said Alairic, pointing south. Outlined on the hill by the light of one of the moons, a robed figure strode out of the shadow of one of the more structurally sound houses. They could see no features, just the shape.

The robed figure must have heard them for it turned and it seemed as if they were being watched. And then, in seconds it had disappeared, seemingly into mist.

“I have first watch,” said Alairic.

“I thought I called first watch,” said Niccolo.

“We should sleep in pairs and watch in pairs,” said Tilliana, “This area does not seem safe.”

There was some brief arguing between Niccolo and Alairic but eventually it was decided that Alairic and Niccolo would sleep first and then sometime after midnight relieve Tilliana and Kinshag to rest.

Alairic and Niccolo were soon asleep and Kinshag was watching the camp on the east side of the fire and Tilliana on the south side. The six horses were tied to the wagon on the northwestern corner of the camp and just to the north the stream flowed busily through the night.

It was about an hour after Alairic and Niccolo had gone to bed that the wolves appeared. They crept up to the edge of the firelight and moving with an uncanny cunning, they crawled under the belled rope without ever disturbing it. They were upon Tilliana in a flash.

One of them manages to bite Tilliana’s leg. It was enough to make Tilliana move quickly. In a flash Tilliana was fending them off and drawing her sword at the same time. The wolves surged forward one more time and then Razor-tongue flashed through the air. Three furred bodies collapsed to the ground. Tilliana panted and examined her wound. It was not deep, little more then a scratch.

Kinshag rushed over but there was nothing for him to do. Niccolo stirred and then resumed snoring.

Tilliana sat back down, sword at the ready. Kinshag returned to his post.

The white cat returned a little thereafter and sat down again by the fire. Tilliana watched it but did nothing else.

Three more hours passed and midnight approached. Nothing had moved in the night.

It was Kinshag’s turn to be startled. He sat and stared out into the darkness when a voice next to him stated, “I am so thirsty.”
Kinshag whirled with a start. A pale skinned man with a drawn face and wearing shepherds clothes stood besides him. Kinshag had heard nothing.

“Give me drink,” moaned the man.

“What do you wan…” Kinshag started but the man lunged at him before he could finish the question.

The man was stronger than he looked and he grabbed Kinshag’s arms and bit into the half-hobgoblin’s throat. Kinshag tried to cry out as he felt the blood flowing out of him, and with it his strength. With a savage cry he tore loose from the fangs of the blood-sucking horror and swung his great-ax up and at the once-man. The vampire lunged back and out of the way with the speed of a serpent.

“Away fiend,” shouted Tilliana, holding forth her holy symbol. There was a brief flash of divine energy but it was not strong enough and the thing leaped back once more at Kinshag, latching on once more to the already bleeding neck. More of Kinshag’s life was sucked away. Kinshag, furious and frightened once more twisted the undead creature off and swung his ax at it. The blade struck and even though it sank in to the creature’s dead flesh, when Kinshag pulled it out, the wound looked like little more than a cat-scratch.

Tilliana, standing a little closer once more held out her divine focus at the thing and this time the energy from it was powerful. The vampire reared back and hissed as the divine light flowed over and into it. With a cry it was gone, vanished into a mist that flew off to the west.

Tilliana ran and woke the others to tell them what had happened. As she was shaking Alairic awake, she remembered the cat. When she looked over by the fire, it was gone.

************************************

They switched watches shortly thereafter. Tilliana knew that she could help Kinshag heal from the foul bites he had suffered, but she would need to rest first. Kinshag, tired and hurt took off his armor, lay down and was soon asleep. Tilliana did likewise.

The cat returned a couple of hours later. Niccolo rummaged in his pack a while and found some food for it. The cat ate it once more and again lay down by the fire. Niccolo amused himself by watching it for a while.

As it had earlier, after a bit the cat perked up its ears as if it heard something. It stood, stretched, looked east, and then ran off to the south.

Niccolo looked east and with his keen vision he could make out six white figures marching in military fashion towards their camp, skeletons.

“Alairic,” said Niccolo.

“My turn,” smiled Alairic and the paladin drew forth his own divine focus. He lacked the power of Tilliana in such matters he knew, but he also knew that skeletons would not be difficult to destroy. As Tilliana had done he waited until they were close enough and then calling upon Naemae, he brought forth the divine power necessary to destroy the dark magic’s holding the skeletons together.

The skeletons burst into dust before him.

“Very good,” said a deep voice from behind the two companions.
Niccolo and Alairic whirled around. Two tall, powerfully built men stood besides the fire, so alike in appearance they could only have been brothers. One held a huge axe in his hand, the other a great sword. They each wore chain shirts and sported heavy red beards.

“Very good,” repeated the one with the ax, “But you will not find it so easy to deal with us puny mortals!”

“Is that so!” cried Niccolo, drawing his rapier and lunging forward. He covered the ground quickly and sank his rapier into the man with the ax. But the powerful thrust did nothing and as he pulled the rapier out the other laughed and swung, hitting Niccolo with his ax.

Alairic charged the other, his holy blade already in his hands.

“May Naemae smite your evil!” shouted the paladin and his blade struck. There was a great flash as righteous energy flowed from both the paladin and the sword into Alairic’s opponent. The man screamed in pain and anger as the blade pierced him deeply and burned. Then with a cry he was gone and an unholy mist flew north, over the fire and out of sight.

The cry brought Kinshag out of sleep and he jumped to his feet. He took stock of the situation and decided to put on his armor.
Niccolo meanwhile was hard pressed. Bleeding from the sword wound, he was finding the man to be a strong and able opponent. Alairic rushed to help him, striking the from the side. As the holy energies of the blade flashed forth once more the undead cried and swung around to attack Alairic. Alairic parried the ax even as Niccolo once more plunged his rapier into the creatures other side. But again, Niccolo could have been stabbing a corpse for all the good the rapier did.

Alairic parried again and then once more swung true. The undead fighter cried with frustration even as he and all he carried turned to mist before the eyes of Alairic and Niccolo and flew west into the darkness.

Kinshag, seeing the fighting was over, once more removed his armor and laid down.

Niccolo began to worry about Two-socks. The wolf had yet to return. There was nothing to do but wait and hope the horrors that seemed to fill the area did not hurt the wolf.

Two more hours passed without incident and the night grew old. But danger was not yet past.

They felt the presence of the creatures before they saw them. Two shapely and beautiful women, walking noiselessly from the south. For a moment neither Niccolo nor Alairic felt compelled to feel frightened. The women were alluring, seductive, magical.
Both realized at the same time what was happening and fought the unnatural charm exuding from the women. As they shook off the effects they saw the pale skin and the extended fangs.

Realizing their charm attempt had failed the women snarled like animals, now less beautiful but still powerful and deadly. The women rushed forward, hands extended, bent on drinking blood before the night was gone. Niccolo had exchanged his rapier for his heavier great axe and as one of the women charged him he swung it. The blow would have killed a normal man, but it merely annoyed the undead woman. Still it was enough to keep her away from the half-elves throat for the moment.

Alairic was not so fortunate. The woman attacking him lunged down and under his sword swing like a snake and then was at his throat. Alairic could not force her off and she bit, drawing forth blood and life.

Niccolo swung again, his axe once more finding its target, but again doing little actual damage. The woman was still trying to go for his throat, more intent on drinking then fighting. Niccolo swung once more and again did little to truly hurt her.

Alairic meanwhile was fighting desperately to get the vampiress off of him. She was latched to his throat like a leech and he could feel the life draining out of him. Remembering his divine focus he clutched at it, but even so he could not concentrate properly to focus enough. Finally he managed to twist her off and away from him.

The other vampire woman had given up trying to drink first and was now swiping her clawed hands at Niccolo. Back and forth they parried, axe against claw, circling each other.

The one fighting Alairic wiped blood from her mouth and smiled. Then she tried to rush Alairic once more. Alairic was ready this time and swinging around and away from her he brought his sword in a vicious circle. It connected and the woman cried aloud as the holy energy of the blade burned her. Alairic, remembering his slumbering companions shouted, hoping to wake them and then swung again as the woman charged him one last time. There was a flash of holy energy and then the woman was turning to mist. A mist which flew north, across the stream.

Niccolo had cut the woman once more with the ax but still it did not seem to be slowing her. Though she had suffered nearly half a dozen hits, none of them bled. Niccolo swung once more. The woman did not dodge this time but moved with the blow. The ax struck her and in that instance, she swung a double fisted punch around, connecting with Niccolo’s chest. The half’elf gasped as more than wind was knocked out of him. The dark energy of the creature seemed to eat at his very soul.

Alairic charged in just then, hoping to distract the vampire woman away from Niccolo. He missed. Niccolo swung again, but his swing was weak. It connected but did not even break the monster’s dead flesh. The woman refused to be distracted by Alairic and moved to try and latch onto Niccolo’s throat. As weak as he felt, Niccolo was not about to let that happened. He struggled as hard as he could to hold her away.

Alairic stabbed forward with his sword, piercing her from behind and Niccolo used the opportunity to swing at her again, this time cutting a little deeper. The woman snarled and Alairic swung once more. Before their eyes the woman dissolved away into a mist which flew to the south.

Alairic and Niccolo looked over at their companions. The fight had not awaken them in the slightest. They were still sound asleep.

 

[Elder-Basilisk]

Brutal! I counted at least three vampires--maybe five. And nobody in the party able to cast restoration. . . .

Are these Monster Manual vampires dealing negative levels or some other kind that just does con drain or con damage?

 

[Capellan]

You know, when you get attacked four times in one night, it's probably time to find a new place to camp.

Were I in this party we would be leaving. We'd be back in time: but not until we had a much better plan than "let the bad guys jump us every two hours while we try to get some rest"

 

[Wicht]

You know, when you get attacked four times in one night, it's probably time to find a new place to camp.

I didn't suggest the camping site. It was all their idea.

Actually their first plan was to spend the night in the fort...
(I would say more but I hate to give too much away)

 

[Wicht]

Brutal! I counted at least three vampires--maybe five. And nobody in the party able to cast restoration. . . .

Are these Monster Manual vampires dealing negative levels or some other kind that just does con drain or con damage?

As to game mechanic specifics...

These were all vampire spawn. They have yet to meet real vampires.

The majority of attacks were blood drain which dealt permanent constitution damage, but Niccolo did take one attack that did a temporary energy drain.

Tilliana can cast lesser restoration and in fact she was forced to use all her second level spells slots available just for that spell come dawn.

 

[Buttercup]

As everyone else has said, these folks need a safer place to camp. If they're going to stay in the area and try to clean it out, they'll never make it unless they can spend their nights unmolested.

Great fun to read, though!

 

[tleilaxu]

bump of encouragement

 

[Wicht]

Chapter 26: Elias’ Fort

The Dawn came and when it did Niccolo and Alairic woke Kinshag. They let Tilliana continue to rest.

“Watch for a while, we are going to go back to sleep,” said Niccolo.

“On my own?” asked Kinshag, still feeling a bit weak from loss of blood.

“Vampires can’t attack during the day and perhaps if Tilliana gets enough rest, she can heal some of our wounds.”

Kinshag reluctantly agreed and Niccolo and Alairic returned to sleep.

An hour passed and Two-socks returned from his scouting expedition. Bloodied and torn, the wolf limped back towards the camp, one leg trailing behind him. Kinshag obtained some food and fed the wretched looking animal. It was clear that the wolf was barely alive.

Tilliana finally awoke and a couple of hours later Alairic and Niccolo got up as well. It was about two hours before noon. Tilliana, with her divine spells, was able to help both Kinshag and Alairic partially recover from the vampire attacks and Alairic tended to Two-socks. Then they picked up camp and surveyed the area.

The various buildings and remains of buildings dotting the hillside took on a more sinister air than they had the night before when the companions had ridden into the area. Now each crumpled shell, each abandoned house, stood out as a sort of tomb, a potential home of undead monstrosities. The spring sun shining on the long grasses gave only slim comfort.

“Those vampires fled from us last night,” said Alairic thinking, “to the north, to the west and to the south. That means some are likely in that fort over there and the others are in these houses. I say we deal with the ones on this side first.”

“How do we kill vampires,” asked Tilliana.

“Shove them out into the sun,” said Alairic.

Several of the houses were little more than piles of rock and wood. They had collapsed through the weight of fifteen years of neglect. The first structure they looked at was like this.
Tilliana, staring thoughtfully at some of the pieces of wood sticking out from between the stones muttered something about, “Stakes.”

“What was that,” said Kinshag.

“Stakes,” said Tilliana, “We could try killing the vampires with stakes. We could make some from some of the pieces of wood that are still sturdy enough around here.”

Niccolo nodded thoughtfully, “Sure we just need to gather enough wood to do it.”

“Should we split up and search the buildings seperately,” asked Tilliana.

“No!” was the immediate answer from the others. Alairic shivered as he remembered ghouls in a basement.

They gathered up a few stout pieces of wood that they thought would service as stakes and approached one of the sturdier looking houses. This one still had four walls and a roof. The roof was of slate and looked to be in decent repair, with only one corner of the roof exposed. The door to the house was closes but all the windows were broken out. The door was not locked.
As the others opened the door and peered in, Alairic pulled out a torch from his pack and worked to light it. The others turned and stared at him.

“What are you doing?” asked Niccolo.

“A torch.”

“Why. The sun is shining, there are windows, it won’t be dark in there.”

Alairic looked up, “I thought that a torch might be a good weapon against vampires.”

“They didn’t seem afraid of our campfire last night, walked right up near it,” said Niccolo as Kinshag walked in the house. There was an odor of rot in the air. The roof had obviously let in some water. The floor under Kinshag sagged. He looked down. The wood was very rotten.

“Uh guys,” said Kinshag as Tilliana walked into the house. That was as much as he managed to get out however before the floor under him collapsed from his weight and he plunged through the floor and into the basement.

“Ugh,” said Kinshag as he landed a bit awkwardly below, more shaken then hurt.

“Oh, oh, said Niccolo walking in and looking through the hole in the floor.

Tilliana was also looking through the hole from the other side.

“You okay?” asked Tilliana.

“Yeah,” said Kinshag. And then the floor under Tilliana’s feet cracked and the priestess in her heavy armor fell straight through.

“Oouf!” said Tilliana as she hit the dirt floor of the basement hard.
Alairic walked up besides Niccolo and looked down.

“Catch,” he called and tossed the torch he had lit down into the hole, “Thought you two could use a light down there.”

“Thanks,” said Kinshag picking it up. The torch light lit up the dirt basement. There were large webs. There were also large eyes staring at Kinshag and Tilliana from the walls. Eyes that glittered multifaceted in the firelight.

“Oh no,” groaned Kinshag drawing out his great-ax and dropping the torch to the dirt floor. Tilliana drew her sword.

“What is it,” said Niccolo looking down through the hole Kinshag had made, trying to see what had bothered the half-hobgoblin.
The spiders charged in. They were nearly five feet across, tow to toe and stood almost a foot off the ground. One of them bit at Tilliana, scratching her on her leg. The others crowded in, mandibles clicking.

Tilliana gave a war cry and cleaved into and through one, sliced open a second and managed to hack into a third. Kinshag fending the spiders off with his axe split one in half and missed a second one. Their flashing weapons gave the spiders pause. Tilliana killed a third spider and Kinshag cut his second. And then Tilliana was besides Kinshag and the last two spiders were cut open by Razor-tongue.

“We got them,” Tilliana hollered up.

“Good,” said Niccolo as he straightened up from trying to gingerly look through the hole. The movement was the last straw for the rotting wood that the half-elf was standing on. In a shower of rotting splinters Niccolo plunged down through the floor, landing on the ground besides the other two.

“Ouch,” said the half elf as he stood up.

Kinshag meanwhile had found the stairs out of the basement. He examined them. The wood was in nearly as bad a shape as the floor above.

“I’ve got rope,” said Alairic as he shuffled around above them.

“I’m gonna try the stairs,” said Kinshag and he very gingerly started to climb them, testing each foot and trying to distribute his weight as best as possible. He made it to the top of the stairs.

“Well if he can do it,’ said Tilliana. And with that she started to climb the stairs. They caved in when she was about halfway up and collapsed about her as she fell suddenly five feet down.

“What happened,” said Alairic, pulling out his rope and moving closer to the holes. It was a mistake. The floor failed to hold him as well and the hole to the first floor grew a little bigger and the paladin joined Niccolo and Tilliana in the basement amid a shower of dirt and wood.

“Ugh!” said Alairic.

Meanwhile Kinshag, more by luck than skill, had managed to make it all the way out of the house.

“I have rope in the wagon!” called out Tilliana when Kinshag informed them of his escape from the rotting house.”

“Right,” said Kinshag, “I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later and all four were once more on the grass in the sunshine. They stared at the house.

“I say we torch it,” said Alairic.

“The torch is in the basement still,” pointed out Tilliana.

“I have others,” said Alairic.

“Any riches in there will have to stay in there,” said Niccolo.
They set fire to the house, the rotting wood going up quickly and hot. As the fire spread to the second floor and then to the attic the screaming commenced. Something inside was being burned in the hot inferno.

“I hope that wasn’t a bad thing to do,” said Kinshag as the screaming continued.

“No living thing could have gone in and out of that house,” said Alairic.

“Not without being in the basement,” said Niccolo.

The second floor collapsed down and the walls started to cave in and the screaming ceased.

The next house was another pile of rock.

“Should we burn it?” asked Tilliana. But most of the wood had already rotted away and there did not seem a lot to actually burn so they decided to leave it. The next two structures were the same way.

“Let’s look in the silo,” said Alairic. They had worked their way from the eastern side of the ruined village to about the middle where the tall walls of a grain silo still stood. The wooden house next to the stone silo had collapsed and it looked like most of the silo’s ceiling had as well, but the round walls remained. The door to the silo wa missing, so they walked in through the open gap.

Sunlight shone through the hole in the top of the silo, illuminating a small dead body on the dirt floor. It was a strange almost bat like creature with long legs and a long needle like nose. Its crumpled wings suggested it was a flying creature.

“A stirge,” said Niccolo examining the body, “they suck blood.”

“Check this out,” siad Alairic from near the wall, “The ground looks like its been dug here and there is a strange metal tube in the ground.”

At the sound of Alairic’s voice something above them stirred. They looked up. Four flying creatures, twins to the dead one on the ground, were circling down. The stirges attacked swiftly, dropping down like bullets. One flew at Niccolo and plunged straight onto the rapier Niccolo held out at it, dying. Tilliana’s powerful sword sliced open another, killing it. Kinshag went to swing his axe at the one diving at him but the creature flew swiftly around the blade and latched onto Kinshag’s shoulder, plunging it’s long needle like snout into Kinshag’s flesh like a giant mosquito. The fourth one landed on Alairic and started to drink.

“Aaah,” shouted Alairic , grasping it and pulling it off of himself. He tried to throw it at a wall, but it merely flew up and started back towards him. The stirge on Kinshag, swiftly bloating itself with blood detached and started to lazily fly up and away. Niccolo pierced it with his rapier and it exploded in a shower of blood.

“Argh!” shouted Kinshag in horror and as the last of the beasts flew back at Alairic, Kinshag charged the short distance between it and him and cleaved it in two with his axe.

“You must have tasty blood,” said Tilliana to Kinshag with a worried look, “Seems like everything is drinking your blood lately.”
Kinshag did not seem too thrilled at the prospect of having his blood drank and simply shivered with horror. It felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

Alairic meanwhile had decided to plug the tube with a finger. He stuck one finger into the tube, blocking it and held it there. Then satisfied he pulled it out.

“Do we have shovels?” he asked.

Tilliana informed them that they did not.

“I say we pour dirt down the tube,” said Niccolo.

“There’s nothing down there breathing,” said Alairic, “Otherwise they would have suffocated when I held my finger over the hole.”

“You didn’t hold your finger there long enough for anything to suffocate!” snapped Niccolo. This led to a fight about how long it would take to suffocate any creature hiding down the pipe.

Finally, “fine,” said Alairic, “I will do it longer!” And he stuck his finger back in the metal tube. This time he held it there for several minutes, staring at Niccolo the whole time.

“Fine,” said Niccolo finally, “There’s nothing alive down there.”

“Let’s dig it up,” said Tilliana.

“I am curious as to what is down there,” said Alairic.

“Let’s try pulling first,” suggested Niccolo and tried prying it free of the ground. Nothing happened.

“Let me try,” said Kinshag and he bent down to try. He pulled and the tube came out of the soil. It was about two feet in length.

“A pipe system?” said Alairic.

“It was put in recently,” pointed out Tilliana.

“We can get some slate and dig,” said Niccolo.

They followed through with this and the slate seemed to move the dirt well enough. About a foot down into the soil and they struck wood.

“A coffin,” said Tilliana.

“I bet it’s a chest,” said Niccolo and they continued to dig.

It was a coffin.

“Good call,” said Niccolo as he pried open the top of the coffin.

Inside lay a female. She had been the one who had attacked Niccolo the previous evening.

“We need a stake,” said Tilliana.

“Pull her over into the sunlight,” said Alairic, “Or we could use holy water.”

“I’ll do her,” said Niccolo pulling out a stake like piece of wood he had picked up earlier. He kneeled down beside her.

“Little Harlot,” said Niccolo as he plunged the stake into the chest of the creature. The woman’s eyes flew open and she screamed. Blood flowed out of her mouth and then she lay still.

“Is she dead?” asked Alairic.

“Could be,” said Tilliana, “Let’s put her in the light.”

They heaved the body over and into the circle of sunlight in the center of the floor. The body began to smoke and then burst into flame.

“Well, we know sunlight works,” said Tilliana when the body was consumed with fire.

As Alairic started to search what remained of the body, Tilliana walked out of the silo and looked around. She purposely scanned the horizon for signs of a white feline. During the morning her mind had reconstructed memories of a white cat who had roamed these very hills. A white cat who had been able to talk.

She spotted the cat sitting in a small tree just to the southwest. It was watching them intently.

“Angel!” called out Tilliana. The cat reacted immediately. Its head had perked up and it had looked alert and then it had jumped out of the tree and ran off towards the east, swiftly disappearing in the long uncut grasses.

“We found four gems,” said Alairic as they joined her outside.

There was another house a little west of the silo, if one could call three and a half walls a house. The rest of it was gone, scattered over the ground, the roof and second floors completely collapsed.

“Nothing here,” said Niccolo, “The last house is over there and then the mill.”

They approached the remaining structure. Of all the buildings, except perhaps the mill house, it was in the best shape.

“One person should stay out here with a rope,” said Tilliana.

That seemed sensible and so Tilliana held onto a rope while the others slowly entered the single story house. The top floor was completely empty, even of furniture but Niccolo soon found a door that led down into a basement.

“Basement!” he called to get the others’ attention. Alairic came up besides him and looked down and then lit a torch.

Alairic led the way down the steps.

Tilliana, deciding that there was little reason to stay above, tied the rope off to a small tree and then went in after the others. Soon all four were in the basement looking around. It was not hard to find the coffin. It was in the middle of the floor.

“Any more stakes?” asked Niccolo.

“I’ll make one,” said Tilliana, pulling out a dagger and hunting for a board to pry a piece of wood off of.

Alairic opened the coffin. Inside was sleeping the huge man who had attacked them with his great-ax. He wore a chain shirt and also carried several daggers.

“Let’s stake him,” said Alairic and taking the wood that Tilliana offered him he plunged it into the creature’s heart. They then removed the shirt, ax and daggers and after leaving the basement, they set fire to the house.

The mill proved to be empty of all but a large pile of gnawed bones. Deer, wolf and human bones lay jumbled together in an unwholesome pile. Despite the gruesome nature of the pile, Niccolo upon seeing a glint of metal in the stack of bones searched through the whole pile, unearthing not only coins, but a few gems and even a glass bottle containing a potion of some sort.

As they left the mill house, Tilliana returned to the structure with the three and a half standing walls. Some sense of intuition told her to look there harder. Her close scrutiny of the area paid off and she hollered the others over to her. The dirt, in one place had been recently dug up.

They dug down and pulled out a fresh body. The body of a shepherd with rosy cheeks. The same man who had first attacked Kinshag in the night. As they pulled him out into the evening sun he screamed and then burned. When there was little more than ash, Tilliana pulled a ring out of the charred remains. It was gold and slightly warped from the intense heat of the supernatural fire. It looked to be a wedding ring of some sort.

They returned to the horses and the wagon. It was two hours before dusk.

 

[Buttercup]

Hmm. I wonder how many vampires will visit them tonight?