Struggle and Strife- A scarred lands storyhour

[Lars Frehse]

A new hope- part 4 of 5

Meanwhile, Donanngar and Jan took the first watch. The orc would have liked to go on, but he didn’t even know what they were looking for. He was certain that he would recognize whatever it was, when he saw it, but for now, all he could do was wait with his newfound friends. His back was leaning against the side of Plainsrunner, his horsesized dire wolf as he watched Jan, who was laying low on the pile of rubble that blocked the entrance of their hideaway, and he silently cleaned his weapons.

Even though Jan was hardly able to see anything in the night, he was hiding crouched behind the pile in hope of using his ability to sense evil, should one of the patrols come through the old alley in front of him. After all, even though he was as blind in the dark as any other human, his perception of evil auras wasn’t hampered by the darkness, and not even stones could block it.

An hour that seemed like a small eternity crawled by, until he heard several bootsteps marching into the alley. They were coming towards his position and their torchlight was reflected by the upper beam of the doorway above him. Jan pressed himself against the rubble, as the undead soldiers finally reached his supernatural view and he saw that they were indeed shrouded in an aura of evil.

Immediately, Jan crawled down in order to tell his friends, but his plate armor made him clumsy, and so some of the rubble got unwedged and tumbled down the pile. Unaware of the noise he had created, the Paladin walked up to Donanngar in order to tell him of his discovery, as the Orc shouted out a warning.

Now, the adventurers woke up, grabbing for their weapons, and they saw six of the undead soldiers jumping down the pile of rubble into the large room in which they were in. Except for their officer, who was wearing a shining set of plate mail, a shield and a bastard sword, they were all wearing an antique form of scale mail and wielding warhammers, while they held torches in their left hands.

As the soldiers charged at the adventurers, one of them staid behind. He pulled out a horn and sounded it and before the last note of the triumphant signal had echoed away, the soldiers had already clashed into the intruders.

They fought with the mixture of determination and routine commonly found in well trained soldiers, and they were more than a match for their enemies. Except for Donanngar and Jan, none of the friends were wearing armor, so they had to be double careful to avoid the brutal warhammers. Niklas, who’s martial arts training had taught him to fight without armor, formed a line with the Orc and the Paladin, while Ben and Trepat supported from behind.

As the fight wore on, Ben used his wand of healing to take care of the wounds of his friends while they were still fighting and Trepat shot magic missiles at their undead enemies. However, by the time Donnangar had defeated the officer, Jan went down and there were still three soldiers, one of which used the breach in order to get at Trepat. Before the Elf could react, the Undead’s warhammer hit him square on the head, and he fell down, unconcious.

Niklas and Ben, who had summoned a flamesword by now, fought on, as Donnangar used his healing powers to fully restore Jan. Now, the field was evened again, and after the Orc had healed Trepat as well, he aided the heroes against the remaining two soldiers. And then, as quickly as the battle had begun, it was over, and they stood panting and sweating over their defeated foes.

Ben took his horserat by the reigns: “We got to get out of here! There should be patrols coming in from all over the city right now!”

“You’re right”, Niklas answered as he picked up his pack. As they were about to leave, Trepat cast a spell to detect magic among the equipment of their defeated foes, and really, the officer’s bastard sword was glowing, showing him that it had been enchanted. He picked it up and they stumbled out into the night.

For another two hours they walked through the ruined city. Donnangar scouted ahead, since his experience as a ranger and his orcish nightvision made him the logical choice, and they took good care that they avoided the other patrols out there.

Again, they heard the horns resounding in the night, and the humans and the halfling had to be double careful as they walked- the light of the halfmoon provided hardly enough light for the vines covered rubble on which they were moving most of the time. It was hard enough to avoid stumbling and much more difficult to remain silent.

But luck was one their side, and at last, when they found another hidden shelter in what seemed to had been a mansion a long time ago, they had time to settle down for some more sleep. However, after the events of the day, sleep didn’t come easily for all of them, and Ben asked:” How in the name of the mother did they find us?”

“I got no idea”, Jan shrugged.

Donanngar grunted:”But I have. The Paladin had moved from his lookout post while the patrol was still in the vicinity. The sound of his armor and the rubble that he set loose was enough for the soldiers to find us.”

Ben was flabberghasted and he had to summon all his will in order not to shout out:” Why did you do that?”

“Oh,” Jan answered and he seemed to be genuinely surprised about the reaction of the halfling:” I wanted to see whether they are evil. And when I was able to see that they really are, I returned to you, so that I could tell you?”

Now Ben was fuming:” I thought you had military training, tall guy! Don’t ever do that again! Next time when you are hiding, stay hidden until you are sure you are alone!”

“I apologize. Next time, I will be more careful. I didn’t think that undead ones would be so perceptive…”

Ben accepted the Paladin’s outstretched hand:” Good then. Just don’t let it happen again”.

The halfling now went to sleep, and as he was drifting into the lands of dreams, he thought back to when he had first met the redhaired boy in Oreirover all those years back, and he silently wondered just how much longer he would have to look out for him.

When the sun rose on the next morning, the adventurers went to a big heap of rocks that looked like a hill that was made of marble stones and grown over with vines. Carefully, they climbed it, and from there, they could see a good part of the city stretching out into all directions in the morning light. As they looked around, they saw a big pyramind about a mile away which seemed to be still intact.

Donnangar was transfixed. He had seen this pyramid in his dreams, many times before: ”There. That is where we will find the cure.”.

 

[Duncan Haldane]

Good update Lars.

I'm glad to hear you are feeling better - having had lots of ear problems when I was young I know what it's like.

I was wondering what level the characters are now. Could you please let us know?

Thanks

Duncan

 

[Lars Frehse]

Thank you.

Right now, they are all at level three, closing in on level four. I think I will simply cash in their character sheets after the next session, so that I can post their stats in the Gallery. Two of the characters are dual class: Trepat is a ranger/sorceror and Torn is a rogue/barbarian. Jan is a Paladin, Niklas a monk and Ben a druid.

They were all done with the point buy method in the DMG and we went for "high powered campaign", meaning 32 points.

The amount of EPs I hand out is slightly less than suggested in the DMG. I hand out about two third of the intended amount, since in my last campaign, I felt that the characters were rushing through the low levels way too fast, thus hardly allowing for any feeling of achievement.

As I said, I will try to post their stats sometime soon.

 

[Lars Frehse]

A new hope- part 5 of 5

Getting to the pyramid was a time consuming process, since some parts of the ruined city were impassable, forcing them to backtrack half of the time. Since they also had to avoid the patrols which were by now swarming the city, it was already afternoon when they finally reached the Orcish monument.

In front of it, there was a large plaza that was mostly free of rubble. Even though it had been untouched for centuries, there were still scorchmarks on the marble floor and the surrounding structures. Apparently, a gigantic bonfire had burnt here long ago.

The pyramid itself was a hundred yards high, and the side the heroes were facing was slightly longer than the other three sides. In the middle, there were stairs leading up and on top of it, there was a platform with a small but massive building made of black rock.

Donanngar pointed to the stairs:” Do you see the furrows to the left and right of the stairs? I don’t know how I know this, but the Orcs who lived here eons ago used to round up their captives on a special day on which they celebrated Chardun. Then, they would behead them on that platform up there, and the blood would flow down the furrows. They considered it bad luck when they hadn’t had enough captured soldiers for the blood to reach the square, and if necessary, they would fight each other until they had the minimum number of warriors to sacrifice.”.

The adventurers looked at the Orc who had told them his people’s lore with a neutral voice, as if he was talking about some harmless harvesting ritual. In the time they had spent together, they had completely forgotten that Donnangar did indeed come from a culture far more violent and harsh than any of theirs.

Climbing the city in daylight would have made them visible from afar, and so the friends decided to wait once again until the sun would set. They searched the ruins around the grand plaza for a suitable hideaway for the horserat and the dire wolf and once they found one, Donnangar and Ben explained to the animals that they would have to wait there.

At last, night came and they walked up the stairs with bent down backs, making themselves as small as they could. The small temple on the platform was basically four upright slabs of rock with another one square on top and there was a rather small entranceway into the lightless structure.

The temple itself was nothing more than one big room. If there had ever been anything in there, it had been long gone, and the room was empty except for one small lizard which wiggled it’s way out of the room as the adventurers entered it.

“This can’t be it”, Donnangar said,”there must be a way into the pyramid.”.

Trepat nodded:” Yes, let’s look around, then!”

The elf and the orc started examining the floor and the walls while the others had to wait. They didn’t dare to light up a torch or a lantern, fearing that any light streaming out of the entrance could attract the attention of their undead pursuers. So, the two who were able to see in the dark carefull searched the structure inch for inch, and after a while, in which the humans and the halfling looked out of the entrance, where they saw occasional spots of lights giving away patrols in the debris below, Trepat found something.

“There are two parts of the wall at opposite sides of the room that seem to have been added into the rock. They look slightly different than the rest.”, he said and after a short pause, he asked Donnangar:”Please, press there, while I will press here”.

Trepat and Donnangar pressed, and in the middle of the room, a slab of rock moved into the floor and gave way to a rectangular shaft that lead down into the darkness. There were iron rungs set into the stone, and Jan climbed them down. The shaft was about twenty feet deep and under it was a ten foot high room.

Jan, who had hooked his lantern to his belt, climbed down until he was hanging on the lowest rung and then dropped the remaining two feet. Now he was in a room about the size of the temple above him, but obviously, this one had never been looted, since there were beautiful multicolored tapestries on the wall and the floor and the ceiling was covered with more colorful paintings.

In front of him, he saw the skeleton of an orc sitting on a small throne. The skeleton was wrapped in a purple robe that was embroidered with golden arcane and orcish runes. After the days in which they had dodged undead, and Jan used his supernatural sense of evil to determine whether the one in front of him was another one, but there was no aura enshrouding the skeleton- apparently this one was truly dead.

He told his friends that everything was clear, and after they had all climbed down, they discovered a lever with which they could close the secret door on top of them again. Now that they were all in the chamber, they had a chance to look at the tapestries and pictures. All of them showed orcs fighting battles or building the city. On some of them, there was a picture of Khadum, but there was only one thing all of the pictures had in common: On each of them, there was the image of a beautiful Orc-woman with white swanwings. She was clad in a shining plate mail and was wielding an orcish double axe.

Her picture was so striking, that even Trepat found her to be beautiful- and beauty was something he never expected to find in the face of an orc. He turned to Donnangar:” Do you know who that angel is?”

Donnangar shook his head:” No. But, she sure is incredibly beautiful.”

“And what do you want to do with the skeleton’s robe? I just checked and it is magical.”.

“I don’t know. Let us decide on our way back out, shall we?”, and with that he turned to the only doorway that opened to a corridor that lead down and deeper into the pyramid.

The corridor was a gallery that was twenty feet high. On both walls, there were successive pictures of what seemed to be the history of Hor’ Kung. First there were orcs fighting wars. Then, the angel appeared and seemed to help them fighting their wars and constructing their city. The further the heroes walked along the gallery, the more progress the orcs were making with their city. The wallpictures were showing battle scenes half of the time, but occasionaly, there were peaceful activities depicted as well.

After a few dozen yards, the gallery, which had lead down paralell to the stairs outside for thirty yards turned around and lead down into the center of the pyramid. Again, there were pictures, until finally, right before the corridor ended in front of a huge bronze door, the pictures changes.

On the last pictures, there were human soldiers who were dressed and equipped like the undead ones the heroes had encountered themselves. This time, the angel wasn’t there and the pictures showed the Orcs loosing the battle.

The last two pictures showed the city in ruins. There was a single orc in a robe like the one the skeleton was wearing in the entrance chamber who was using all kinds of arcane magic to kill hundreds of soldiers. And finally, there was a picture of the plains in front of the city. Dead hands were clawing their way out of the ground while undead were pulling themselves out of their graves. The sky on that picture was dark, except for the starsign of Chardun’s sceptre, which was bathing the dreadful scene below in an unholy light.

The bronze doors weren’t locked and in spite of their weight and age, they swung open with the slightest resistance. The final chamber was again as big as the upper one and the temple and the only things in there were marble shelves with packages on them and an eight foot tall marble statue of the angel they had seen on the pictures before.

Ben went to the packages, which seemed to be untouched by the passing of years, and immediately, he recognized the herb inside as the cure for the Orc plague. His druidic knowledge told him that a few leaves in a big kettle would suffice in healing an entire Orcish tribe.

Meanwhile, Donanngar meekly walked up to the statue. His head was bowed and he stretched his open hands out with the palms showing up. Then, all of a sudden, the statue moved it’s head. It’s already benign face was now full of love and compassion and the room filled with a warm and pleasant light while there was a barely audible angelic choir singing somewhere.

There was a short flash of light, and a full bag appeared in Donnangar’s arms and next to each of the heroes. The statue, however, had reversed to her original lifeless form and the light and the faint music were gone again..

Ben looked into his bag, and again his ability to discern the qualities of all plants, whether they are known to man or not, helped him. The bag was filled with seeds, and Ben grabbed a fistful of it:” This is wheat, but a form of wheat I had never heard of. It is so tough, it should be able to thrive and grow even in the plains of Lede.

“Donanngar, you told us that you think that there should be a better life for your people. I believe that this better life is in these bags here!”.

 

[Nightfall]

Yes! Wheat and a CURE! Looks like the Plains orcs will have some bread to munch on their kills with!

 

[LRathbun]

Great Story

That last segment of the story (a new hope) was the best so far. Keep up the good work!

LR

 

[Lars Frehse]

Thank you, I am glad you are enjoying it.
The idea for this plot line comes from the Mithril sourcebook, by the way, and I mixed the ideas from the book with some of my own.

 

[Lars Frehse]

Carrying the Cure- part1

The heroes stood in the hall for a while longer.

Torn was the first to speak again:" I think we should get going now. This way, we can get back into the forest before the sun rises again."

He pulled out the map that Azaton had made for them and after his friends had gathered around him, he pointed at the forest to the north of the ruin:"Now, this is the where we found the path. However, I think we can be certain that the undead will either be blocking it or they have prepared an ambush there. If we cut through the wood to the west of the path and head northwest, we shouldn't loose much time and we would be able to shake any persuers as well."

His friends agreed, and after he had rolled his map up, they put the bags of wheat and the medicine into the bag of holding and left the room. Donanngar stayed back for a moment and stared at the statue for a little while. He sighed deeply and then followed his newfound friends.

In the upper chamber, Donnangar went to the skeleton and carefully picked up the robe, but the moment he touched it, the skeleton fell apart, and it's bones fell clattering to the floor. With a slow movement that looked like revery, the orc picked up each of the bones and wrapped it into the robe, which he stored away in his backpack.

They left the ruins and picked up the horserat and the direwolf. Then, they headed northwest, and again they took care to avoid any patrols. The night was chilly, giving the first hint that winter was finally about to reach this island inspite of the warm titan's blood in the sea and Belsameth's pale moonlight made their breath visible in front of them.

They were almost halfway through the city, as Jan stumbled over a loose rock in the cracked pavement under him and fell down. The sound of his full platemail crashing on the rock disrupted the night's silence like a churchbell and they all stood frozen. Then, as Donnangar and Niklas helped the Paladin up, they heard the sound of horns.

There was nothing they could do but get to the crumbled city wall as quickly as possible. As they hurried through the night, they heard more horn signals every now and then, and each time they seemed to be just a little bit louder than the previous time- their pursuers were closing in.

Finally, though, they reached the remnants of the wall. Jan got out of his armor and stored into the bag of holding with the wheat and put on a leather armor. Beyond the wall, they saw the torches of two patrols between the forts. It appeared as if the two patrols had just met each other and were now moving away from each other.

Knowing that there were pursuers somewhere behind, the adventurers waited as long as they dared to between the rubble. Then, when the patrols had ample space between them, they started to sneak out into the night.

For a few hundred yards, they remained unnoticed. Then, the patrol to their right sounded their horn and immediately both patrols turned around to intercept the adventurers.

There was still a mile and a half between the heroes and the forest and several hundred yards seperated them from the patrols. They fell into a wild dash: Ben and Donnangar rode ahead on their steeds and Niklas and Torn, who were fast runners, kept up. Jan and Trepat were forming the end of the field, and even though they were running at full speed, they couldn't keep up with the other ones.

They ran as fast as their feet would carry them until they left the soldiers far behind them and they felt that they couldn't run anymore. Their blood was hammering in their temples and inspite of the night's chill they were drenched in sweat. Yet, even though they would have wanted to lay down and recover on the grassy ground, they fell into a doublemarch and closed in on the wood.

The patrols behind them, who were hampered by their scale mails, weren't able to keep up and they sounded their horns which now seemed to carry a note of disappointment. However, the pursuers lit up arrows and sent two last volleys of flaming arrows after their prey. Jan and Trepat were wounded, but they were still able to march on as they pulled out the arrows. However, some of the small bushes nearby caught fire and now the reinforcements which were streaming out of the two forts behind had a clear indication as to where they had to march to.

At last they all reached the edge of the forest. Behind them, on the field between the city and the forest, there were now dozens of torches moving towards them. It was clear, that there was no time to rest yet, and they set of into the wood.

For hours, they marched in silence and they waded through a small stream and passed around any deep underbrush they encountered in order to leave as few tracks as possible. The morning came and they all felt tired and exhausted. Staying awake in the grey morning light became a struggle on top of having to march on. Even though all of them would have loved to close their eyes and embrace the realm of dreams, they had set their minds on reaching the small river to the west first. There, on the other side in the high grass, they could settle down- should any of their pursuers approach them there, then they would have to cross the river first-giving the friends ample time to either fight or run.

However, as they marched and rode through the wood, that goal was still at least a day's march away. Their feet carried them on and some of them fell into a halfwake state as they trudged on.

Around noon, they reached a glade. The sun was shining down at them, but they were hardly aware of their surroundings. Suddenly, behind bushes around them, six undead stood up. They were all wearing light armor and they were holding bows. Each of them shot an arrow at the group, injuring Niklas, Jan and Trepat and before the heroes could react, they dropped their bows and pulled out a long- and a shortsword each.

As the friends pulled out their weapons, the undead rangers had approached and started the melee.

 

[Ruined]

Eesh, undead rangers. No fun!!

Good work, Lars. Keep it up!

 

[Nightfall]

Yeah Lars that's just disturbing! Let the poor guys rest!