Struggle and Strife- A scarred lands storyhour

[Lars Frehse]

Thanks for all your comments. I intend to post another update tonight.

Talix, Ben had sacrificed a little more than 1.000 GPs, IIRC. The guardian gave such a big gift in order to ensure future sacrifices. At the same time, he made clear, that he won't always grant a wish after a sacrifice, but merely when he decides to do so. This way, you will never be sure whether your sacrifice will do any good, and that is exactly the way the guardian wants it. He wants to be revered as a helpful spirit, but he doesn't want to be worshipped.

 

[Nightfall]

Can't wait Lars!

 

[Lars Frehse]

Bosom of the mother- part 3 of 4

Immediately, the soldiers stopped whatever they were doing at that moment, and readied their weapons and shields. Inaciel shouted over the rising wind: " Hold there, if you can! We're going to warn Tamlaine!", and the six elves vanished into the trees, ducking to avoid the branches which were now thrashing about in the wind.

"We have to shield the wagon!“ Torn shouted to Niklas, and they pushed their bodies into the wind as they ran to the wagon. Once there, the monk jumped on top of it, landing on his feet, and pulled Torn up to stand at his side on the hard wooden top of the wagon.

Trepat and Jan stayed with the soldiers, who were looking anxiously around as the howling storm got stronger, shaking the treetops and whirling the clouds into a huge vortex above. For a few moments, nothing happened, and the scene in the clearing was frozen, until two large hags broke through the clouds and a construct made of wood and thorns came lumbering into the clearing from amidst the trees.

Immediately, Trepat cast a lightning bolt, and since he feared that the hags couldn't be harmed by electricity, he altered the spell in a way that substituted the lightning with acid. Both were hurt, and in return, they let lightning strike from the clouds, killing one of the soldiers, and badly injuring Trepat.

The soldiers surged forward in order to fight the golem, but after a few strikes, they saw that their swords couldn't hurt the thing. Jan healed Trepat and then ran as fast as his heavy armour allowed him to, swinging his bastardsword and charging at the golem.

Meanwhile, Torn shot at the descending hags with his crossbow while Niklas held his glaive ready, daring them to come closer. In return, the hags shot fire at them, but then Trepat shot another acid lightning at the Mormo-witches, scorching away their flesh, and they both crashed uncontrolled and screaming to the ground, breathing their last upon their impact.

Whenever the golem hit a soldier, the poor Veshian was tossed backwards several feet, since the strength of the thing seemed to derive from the power of the very oak it was made of. With the hags gone, Torn and Niklas shortly considered leaving the cart and helping the soldiers, but then their process of thought was suddenly interrupted, as they noticed that it was getting even darker, as something huge was blocking out the last light that had managed to penetrate the dark clouds above.

Both looked up simultaneously, as if their heads were attached to invisible strings, which were jerked up by an unseen hand at the same time, and their eyes widened as they saw the huge form of a wooden dragon plummeting towards them.

On it's back, they saw a storm hag, and over the noise of the storm and the rushing sound of the dragon, they heard her cackling, which sounded uncomfortably familiar. In a flash, they saw scenes from when had met her before: at the asaathi camp in the blood steppes fighting Chardun's servants and over the blood basin summoning the storm that had sunk their ship.

However, there was no time for idle recollection, since the dragon seemed to have no intention to slow his flight and was crashing towards them. Torn jumped as far from the cart as his powerful legs would push him, rolling away once he had hit the soft ground, but Niklas stayed for the merest fraction of a second longer, raising his glaive and intending to impale the thing on it. There was no time to make a real decision, but he knew that there was too much at stake, and the servants of Mormo should under no circumstances gain possession of the amphora, even if it cost him his life.

The dragon fell down with his front paws stretched out, and the glaive did not even puncture the dragon's skin. Then it had reached the wagon, which exploded into a shower of wood and iron, Niklas being just one item of many. One claw had ripped his side open and he was tossed in a high arch over the clearing, slamming to the floor some twenty yards away.

Before Ben had reached the ground, however, the storm hag shot a long frog tongue at the now revealed chest that held the amphora. Right before the dragon would have hit the ground, her tongue was wrapped around it, and the dragon cast a spell with supernatural speed, finishing it just as the first of his talons had just entered an inch wide into the soft ground, and then the dragon was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Niklas, who was hurting all over and barely alive, used his powers of inner healing, and he thought for a moment that from somewhere over the clouds he heard the faint cackling of the witch. As he was closing his wounds, ignoring the pain the way he had been taught, he saw Torn helping Jan, Trepat and the soldiers defeat the golem. Looking around, he noticed that for three of the soldiers, all help came too late- two had been killed by the golem and one had been fried by lightning.

Again, he heard the cackling, and this time he was certain that the hag was indeed still close by. "Trepat, come here, I need your help!“ he called.

The elf came running through the wind and rain, his friends in tow. The remaining soldiers had stayed behind, taking care of their brothers-in-arms.

"Trepat", Niklas explained, "we should get to Piridur- he still has the ritual, and I am certain that the dragon and the hag haven't completely gone from here. Do you think you can find his tracks in this weather?"

"I can always try", Trepat answered, and he hunkered down low where he had seen Piridur and Tamlaine disappear between the trees. Soon, he found one set of tracks- and seeing that heavy boots had made them, he was sure that the ranger had come this way. Tamlaine, being an elvish druid, had not so much as bent the grass she had walked on.

After having followed a trail for about a minute, they turned around a corner to stand in front of Inaciel, who was apparently heading towards them. The haggard looking elf stopped dead in his tracks and said: "Come with me. Quickly."

Without any further explanation, he turned to sprint into the wood, and the friends ran after them with Jan lagging behind. After a short but exhausting run, which was spent pushing through thick scrub and between heavy trees while they were sinking into the muddy ground, they broke through some bushes into another clearing.

The earth of the clearing was torn and strewn in lumps, as though something large and clawed had recently stood there, and in the middle, several elves were crouching low, tending to someone. Seeing the four adventurers, the elves drew back, and now the friends could see whom the elves had tended to.

There, lying in the mud, which was darkened by her blood, herself deeply wounded, was the druid Tamlaine. As the friends stepped into her view, she croaked:" Dragon! Come from...your direction. Couldn't... stop it. It took... it took your companion, Piridur."

 

[Nightfall]

Wow! Not only did we see Hieela again but she brought a WOODWRACK too! That's pretty nasty man.

 

[Lars Frehse]

Bosom of the mother- part 4 of 4

Jan went down on his knees and used his healing powers on the injured druids. Some of the wounds closed and the bleeding stopped, but Tamlaine's injuries were too severe for Jan to completely heal them. Still, she was now strong enough to prop herself up on her elbows, wincing all the while:" The dragon flew southwest. We can… call upon the birds and the... beasts of the woods, to learn… where it went. You may yet… be able... to retrieve what you have lost.“

Jan told her to stay silent for her own good, and while he tended to her wounds as good as he could, the remaining five soldiers came through the brush, looking shattered. Of the twelve soldiers they had started out with at Lave, four had died in the canyons of Ontenazu and three more were lost in the last battle. Niklas was at a loss at what to say to them. It seemed as if their losses had been for naught.

Just as he was struggling for words, several elves entered the clearing, and one of them reported to Tamlaine that the dragon flew directly towards the Hornsaw forest, passing swiftly out of the Ganjus and over the Haggard hills.

Tamlaine frowned, but at least her breathing was coming more steadily now:" The Hornsaw Forest is a hideous, dangerous place with much room for even a dragon to hide. I fear that you have much toil ahead, if you would recover the Amphora, for I cannot even tell you where in the Hornsaw to begin.

"I can assure you," she continued, "that the Jordeh will only be too happy to perform this ritual for you, now that we have seen what is at stake. If you survive the Hornsaw and the citadel of the Dar al Annot, return to the southernmost point of the Ganjus, southwest of the healing circle. My brethren will await you there.“

The friends looked at each other, and every one of them saw his own determination mirrored in the eyes of his companions. Niklas turned to the soldiers: " I believe it is best if you would stay behind. If we do not return, someone will have to inform the Home commander."

Lirana, the most experienced of the remaining warriors who had now, in Piridur's absence, become commander, nodded in agreement: "We would rather come with you, of course, but we will ask the elves for a place to stay for the time being."

"That will be no problem, of course", Inaciel offered. He told one of his men to guide the remaining soldiers to Vera Tre, the elvish capitol, and then he turned back to the friends:" Do you feel ready to leave now? We will guide you to the southern edge of the Ganjus, and that will be quite a long journey."

They agreed to leave now and ignore their aches and wounds for the time being. Soon they were travelling again, west and southwards through the Ganjus.

After a week, in which a lot of the beauty of the Ganjus had lost its appeal, the trees began to thin and the terrain grew more and more hilly. Soon afterwards, they had reached the edge of the forest, and ahead of them they saw the barren, blasted wastelands of the haggard hills.

Inaciel sighed deeply, showing how he regretted that they weren't able to be of any further help, and said:" This is where we will leave you. Should you succeed, return to the Healing Circle, or as near to it as you are able. The Jordeh will await you, and offer sanctuary."

With a brief bow, he and his companions were gone, fading away into the forest, and the friends took the time to get a good look at the land they were about to cross. The hills rose like boils on the skin of the earth and the rocks and scrubs that covered them were scorched by the merciless sun above.

Yet there were also faint but recognizable signs of healing. For every barren hill, another was covered in a coat of grass, often brown and feeble, but living nonetheless. Occasionally, there were some animals as well: a snake, a rabbit or a thin raptor flying overhead. The land was not lush, but it was living and breathing, and it grew stronger with every passing season, slowly healing the scars of the divine war.

 

[Nightfall]

The Haggard Hills..and soon the Blood Steppes! Then finally the Hornsaw! Should be fun when the reach the heart of the forest.

 

[Lars Frehse]

The heart of darkness- part 1

They rode out into the hills, leading their mounts by the reins whenever the ground became too rocky for their steeds. Looking at the maps the elves had given them, they saw that they had to cross merely 100 miles of these badlands. The bloodsteppes ended somewhere to the east, but they found that the lands weren't any more hospitable here.

Occasionally, they saw indications of giant spiders and other monstrous predators, but they succeeded in avoiding all of them. The air and the ground were hot and the winds were dry and blowing fine sand, which constantly whipped against all exposed flesh, roughing it up like sandpaper.

It took them over four days to cross the hills, never encountering any truly dangerous foes. It was almost as if the world around had gone into a lull in order to spare them for the horrors that lay ahead of them.

On their first night, around the campfire, as the air was quickly cooling down around them, Niklas said:" My teacher, Brother William, had once told me about the Hornsaw. Before Mormo had been killed there, it had supposedly been the most beautiful of all of Ghelspad's forests. Back then, it was still called the Broadreach Forest. But with her foul essence spread everywhere, it transformed into something wicked and twisted...

" For several years, all divine life in there was on the retreat, until the elves of the Ganjus had offered the remaining Broadreachelves to join them. Most of the dwarves were already gone by that time, of course."

"I didn't know of any mountains within the Hornsaw", Ben said.

"Oh, you mean because of the dwarves?" Niklas said and laughed shortly, " Well, William told me that there had been a different kind of dwarves. They had no affinity to the mountains but to the forests instead, and they were supposed to be fabled woodworkers."

Ben's brow furrowed and he shook his head: "I find this hard to believe.“

"Well, I don't think that my teacher lied to me. Anyway, the Broadreach elves decided to stay, even though the forest had been fouled and there was Titanspawn everywhere. In order to save the forest, they decided to melt with the forest, and after a major ritual, they were all gone, their souls merged with the spirits of the forest:"

"Do you mean that they merged with a tree each, like dryads?“ Torn asked.

Niklas shrugged:" Even William wasn't sure about that, and you know that there was very little about which he admitted his ignorance. The way it looked, they merged with the entire forest, slowly healing it to a certain degree. And there are reports of elvish spirits who came to aid divine people within the forest.

"Then, after a century, the elves returned, and they are living within the forest until this day. However, it is still a wicked, evil and very deadly place. But supposedly, it would have been even worse, had the elves not merged with it."

Nobody said a word for the rest of the night, as they looked up to the stars and each of them wondered about what lay in store for them.

When they finally reached the Hornsaw, it looked even more horrible than they had expected. The trees loomed menacingly, their branches scraping together in breezes, which should have been too weak to move them and their shadows stretched before them in directions, which were completely at odds with the ambient light.

The heat was oppressive, and the soil was thick sticky, as though the blood of Mormo was still moistening and corrupting it. There was no birdsong to be heard; instead the only sounds, which weren’t swallowed by the ground and the bushes, were the screeches and screams of twisted animals born to a life of endless pain.

Right when they entered, Ben had to put down the wolf-skull he was wearing as a helmet and which gave him the fine olfactory senses of that predator. The sickly stench of rot was everywhere, as if behind every tree and every bush a decaying carcass was hidden from view, and it threatened to overpower the incarnate when he first entered.

After they had entered the forest in silence, Torn commented: “Niklas, are you sure about the stories your teacher taught you? This place is horrible.“

Niklas was at a loss of words: “ Well, he sure told me about it. The forest probably would have been even worse without their effort.“

“I wouldn’t want to see how it could be any worse”, Jan said, stepping out of what looked like an inch-deep puddle of blood.

They walked deeper and deeper into the forest, hoping for some clues that could lead them to the citadel of the Dar Al Annot. They all of them felt the futility of their search, after all the broadreach was huge enough to hide almost anything. And even if they would find it, there was no guarantee that they would find it in time. Still, none of them gave up, and they tried to be as cheerful as possible, trying to at least create some hope for their companions.

In the afternoon, as they were just walking past a dark, muddy pool which smelled even worse than the rest of the forest, something stirred in the water. Trepat, who walked at the rear, was just about to shout a warning, as two huge crustaceans with giant claws shot out of the water, one of them grabbing Niklas, who was caught completely unaware.

 

[Nightfall]

Time to fight! Can't wait to see what they think of the home of the Dar Al Annot.

 

[Lars Frehse]

Well, they will need to get there first.
Anyway, I have just finished a new update. Once at home, I will do the spellchecking, so that I will be able to post it in two hours or so.
Incidentally, I will use a cliff-hanger that is presented between the first two chapters of the actual adventure to end this update. I wanted to post that ahead, so that the credit goes where credit is due.

 

[Lars Frehse]

The heart of darkness- part 2

As Niklas tried to free himself from the vice-like grip, he remembered his teacher telling him about those monsters. They were called "Chuuls" and he distinctly recalled Brother William talking about the tentacles, which hung under the crustacean's head like a beard. They were strong enough to wrap around a horse and injected a paralysing poison into the Chuul's victim.

Niklas doubled his efforts, as the chuul moved him to his tentacles, but the claws were as immovable as if they were forged with steel. When he reached the tentacles, they wrapped around him and he felt their tips pushing under his skin, immediately pumping their poison into his veins.

Meanwhile, Jan swung had jumped down from his horse, and while his steed attacked the chuul with it's hooves, he swung his sword at it. But to his surprise, the carapace proved to be harder than he thought, and his blade bounced back, merely denting the hard chitin.

The others joined his efforts, hardly hurting the monsters, while Niklas felt how his spirits left him. The poison was working now, and he felt more and more detached from his body, and as the chuul's mandibles started to chew on him, he was already too far-gone to notice it, drifting away into a land of dreams...

In those dreams, he was five years old again, and playing hide and seek with his brother and his father. There was no problem in the world as he hid behind the forge and the sun was slowly sinking behind the window...

Then, his brother stood behind him and emptied a bucket of water over his head.

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by water. Immediately, his spirits returned, and he pushed himself up, bursting out of the muddy pond water in which he had been dropped. After vomiting what felt like half of the pond's dirty and reeking water, he looked around and saw that the Chuul that had held him was now killed, and he quickly thanked Corean, for he was sure that he had been close to really meeting his father again. He was severely wounded, and still groggy from the paralysing poison, but the fight wasn't over just yet.

The remaining Chuul had just tossed Torn against a tree, and the halforc dropped to the ground, limp like a lifeless bag of potatoes. To his right, the monk noticed Trepat, who was bleeding from a chest wound and who was slowly sliding from the muddy ground into the pond.

Niklas waded through the water as hurriedly as possible while pulling out a potion of healing, and after a few steps, he had reached Trepat. Holding up the elf's head, he filled the potion into his mouth, and immediately, Trepat's eyes started to flutter and the sorcerer was back.

Ben, Jan and their steeds were still fighting the Chuul. Thinking quickly, Trepat noticed that the only one standing in the water was the chuul, and he shot a lighting bolt into the water. There, the electricity exploded in a burst of light and steam. The Chuul, who was already wounded, jerked in spastic motions as the current ran through his body and then, when it was over, he crashed forward to the ground, his small brain completely fried.

After healing Torn and the others who were wounded, Ben stood scratching over the two carcasses:" I wonder whether someone could make an armor out of their carapaces...“

"We could try. There is still space in our bag of holding", Torn said, and pulled out his hatchet.

His friends working on the carcasses, Trepat looked idly onto the pond when he saw something glittering. Carefully, he stepped in, and pulled a silver coin out of the water. After rubbing it against his pants, he turned the coin in his hand. On one side, it had the head of a jester, and on the other a skull.

Wondering about the strange design, he called for his friends, and after looking around, they found three humanoid skeletons, more coins and a sceptre that was topped by a jester's head. The sceptre was magical, but here in the forest, Trepat had no time to settle down and ascertain the properties of the item.

When they were done, they went deeper and deeper into the forest. At night, they were assaulted by a group of slitheren, regular soldiers and red witch sorcerers, and when the next morning came, none of them had slept well, since the screams of pain were audible throughout the night as well.

They packed up their things and moved on. After an hour, they heard a loud rustling within the nearby bush, and all of the friends grabbed for their weapons. To their surprise, a creature of which all the friends considered extinct stepped out of the bushes: a unicorn. It looked like a large warhorse, which was covered, in shaggy, walnut-hued fur. It's hooves, sharp teeth and the name-giving horn glinted in the dim light and it snorted angrily and pawed the earth.

For a moment, no one said a word. They all had heard stories about those fabulous creatures, but they were supposed to have been a part of Ghelspad that the titan's war had irrevocably destroyed. Suddenly, a low female voice called out from the trees to the creature's right:" I suggest you make no sudden moves. Duzghul isn't looking for a fight, but he is edgy..."

The friends still held their hands to their weapons, as an elfish woman appeared from the trees. Her hair, skin and clothes were all covered with layers of caked-in dirt; the only bright spot on her face were her glinting blue eyes.

"What are you doing here?“ she asked, holding her two curved blades, which looked like they were fashioned from horns like the one of her unicorn.

"We came here for we have to retrieve something the witches of Mormo had stolen from us", Trepat answered in elvish and he caught her eyes with his gaze.

"Maybe I can help you", she snapped, her eyes looking out from a small slit.

"Why should we trust you", Niklas asked.

She snorted:" Because you are deep in the Hornsaw, and unless someone helps you, you will be dead soon. So, even if I mean you harm, I would simply be the cause of the fate that will come to you in any case. Unless you find an ally who knows this forest, that is."

Trepat nodded:" All right then. We would be honoured to accept your help. We are looking for the Dar Al Annot"

"Alright. May name is Leral, and I can show you the way to the citadel, and keep you out of harm's way as long as you stay close to me", she said, still not smiling " The Annot Kalambath is the centre of their power, and it lies deep in the forest. I know the fastest way, and I know that their leader, the Blood Crone, is away at the moment. That doesn't mean the citadel is unguarded, but at least anything you attempt isn't guaranteed suicide."

Seeing that the heroes were ready to follow her, she lead them westwards. Over the next couple of days, it showed that she was indeed able to lead them in a way that let them avoid any further lethal encounters. However, she turned out to be extremely bad company as well.

She was rude, arrogant, unfriendly and spiteful. Whenever she was asked just what her relation to the other elves was, she simply avoided the issue, mentioning only that she belonged to an order that preferred to stay away from the major elvish settlements, since they believed to be the most efficient on their own.

Finally, after a nightmarish trek of several days through the outlandish and corrupted wood, Leral pushed aside a thick cluster of hanging, vine-like tendrils with the tip of one of her blades.

"We are here,“ she whispered, and her hoarse voice showed the first hint of uncertainness ever since they had met. "Annot Kalambath."

Leral stepped aside, allowing the friends to move forward and see close up just what it was they had taken on...