The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #313] Southward, Ho!, part 8

Morier gave ground, forcing the three warriors to adjust their stances in order to maintain their flank. They were well-disciplined, however, and moved fluidly back into position, leading with the bastard sword so that he was forced to parry. He caught the first heavy blade on his greatsword's ricasso, and forced the blow aside through sheer brute strength, causing the man's follow-up dagger thrust to go wide.

He could do nothing about the second man, however and felt the bastard sword slam down on his shoulder. The magic of the leather armor kept him from a killing blow, but there was still enough force behind the blade to deaden his arm all the way to his fingertips. He twisted away, his arm hanging limply at his side, and avoided by luck alone the worst of a dagger thrust aimed for his guts.

Morier shrieked mindlessly and flailed his greatsword at his assailants just as the third of them lunged forward to finish him off. Three feet of alchemically-silvered greatsword sprouted suddenly from the man's back and it was unclear who was more surprised, he or Morier. The eldritch warrior reacted quickly to this unexpected turn of events and twisted his sword to interpose the dying man between himself and the other swordsmen giving himself a moment's breathing room to withdraw from the melee.

He didn't get it, however as the first human sidestepped Morier's feint and brought his own sword up. Feeling was returning to the albino's arm, but not enough for him to parry the incoming blade. He steeled himself for the inevitable...

But aid came from an unexpected quarter. Wolf appeared suddenly behind the eldritch warrior and leapt at his enemies. The wolf dragged one of the men to the ground, its jaws clamped down tightly on his neck. The man made a high-pitched gargling sound as Wolf thrashed his head from side to side, savaging the warrior's throat. The last standing fighter ignored Morier in favor of trying to save his companion. He sank his bastard sword into Wolf's side, causing the animal to yelp in agony and release the downed man.

Clinging to life by a thread, Morier took the opportunity to withdraw, leaving Wolf to its fate.



Naaris Fangart stabbed the gray wolf again, stilling it. He paused long enough to nudge Omuull with his boot, but he was clearly dead. Naaris had trained with the man for years as they both sought to master fighting in the Crescent Moon style. Competition between the two had fueled them both to succeed, and while neither was yet a master of the style, they had each been within a maneuver or two of that feat. Omuull clearly would never attain their shared goal.

"Weak!" Naaris grunted, spitting on the fallen man's upturned face before heading off in pursuit of the albino elf.

It was pretty easy to follow the trail of blood around to the rear of the building and on around the far corner. There he stopped. The dwarf was there, healing the elf with a wand. He held a warhammer in his other hand and looked ready to use it. 'Two-on-one' were odds that Naaris liked only when he was part of the two. He back-peddled, retreating around the building with the goal of returning to the manor and alerting his superiors there.

Naaris never saw Feln's knife-hand strike before the blow crushed the man's windpipe and mangled his cervical vertebrae, killing him instantly.



Sir Brin struggled determinedly through the Entangle spell, heading for the nearest patch of open ground, which unfortunately for him, was over thirty feet away. He pressed on, focused on his goal. Behind him he could hear his lieutenant, Kourd, grunting with effort as he followed in his master's footsteps.

"Yoo hoo!" a high-pitched voice chirped overhead and Sir Brin looked up in time to receive a pinch of Confusion dust in his face. Spitting and cursing, he dragged a hand across his face to free himself of the glittering powder. He was a Defiler - as far as he knew, he was the highest-ranking member of his order to walk Oerune in centuries. Before that, he had enjoyed the dark blessings of the Blackguard. And long, long ago, before he fell, he had been a Paladin in the service of Sato. He was now favored amongst his dark goddess' followers, an unholy warrior without peer!

And still, he succumbed to Lela's faerie dust.

Kourd cried out in shock and pain as the confused Sir Brin whirled and drove a foot of Corrupted steel into the man's gut. The betrayal brought immense pain but it wasn't enough to kill him outright. He was quick to adjust to his plight, however, and raised his bastard sword against his former ally.



"How are ye feeling, White One?" Karak asked after he tapped the albino with his healing stick again. Morier nodded.

"I'll live," he replied, his attention riveted on the battle going on between the two armored men still stuck in the Entangle spell. Karak harrumphed and stuck the wand back into his belt.

"Aye, then. That be all the more we're needin' at the moment," he told the elf. "We're all done 'ere, methinks, but for a bit o' clean up." Indeed, the rest of the VQS were all making their way around the far side of the Entangle, their foes all vanquished apart from Brin and Kourd. Karak hefted his warhammer and glowered at the two warriors. "I'll be right back," he growled as he started forward.



Sir Brin spent a moment staring blankly even after Kourd had fallen beneath his blade. He was unable to shake the effects of Lela's Confusion, and it was his own pain that finally brought him around. He was bleeding from a half-dozen wounds - one or two of them serious, and he was obliged to use his profane power to heal himself despite the fact that he saw the dwarf returning with murderous intent.

"Back for more, eh, dwarf?" Sir Brin taunted. "Vell come on, zen! My sword has almost forgotten ze taste of your blood!" Karak paused just out of the unholy warrior's reach and Sir Brin grinned at him.

"Have you lost your nerve, doggie?" Sir Brin laughed. "Lay down your veapons and I still might let you live!" The laughter died in the blackguard's throat as Karak called on the divine guidance of his goddess to make his blow Strike True.

"Shaharizod, grant me yer guiding hand," he implored before hefting his warhammer in a two-handed grip and smiting Sir Brin with all the strength that his compact frame could muster. His warhammer struck the unholy warrior on the chin, driving his head back and crushing his jaw in an explosion of blood and teeth. The man's helmet flew clear of his head, tumbling end over end through the air and careening off the roof of the building behind him, before it landed ultimately near the fallen body of Kourd. Sir Brin's nearly headless body teetered unsteadily on rapidly-folding legs before toppling backwards and succumbing to the clutch of the Entangle.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

Couple of questions:

You wrote Wolf like it was/is an NPC/PC as opposed to an animal......... intentional?

and having sold all my Forgotten Realms stuff, I'm unfamiliar with Shaharizod. What kind (domains) of deity is that?

Keep up the great work!

 

[Jon Potter]

Couple of questions:

You wrote Wolf like it was/is an NPC/PC as opposed to an animal......... intentional?

Wolf was Lela's animal companion. Not smarter than a normal animal, but well-trained. I invested some good face-time in him because when my wife conceived of the Lela character, she emphasized the face that Wolf was her best friend and had been for a very long time. She was not happy when he died.

And for those of you keeping track at home:

Kirnoth (my wife's first character): contracted lycanthrope and is out of the game
Ixin (my wife's second character): burned to ash in a lake of magma
Wolf (her third character's best friend): killed by a massive critical

and having sold all my Forgotten Realms stuff, I'm unfamiliar with Shaharizod. What kind (domains) of deity is that?

Well, Shaharizod is completely home-brewed although three of her domains are from the Forgotten Realms: Moon, Destiny, and Nobility. She also has the Good, Law and Protection domains. Karak took Destiny and Nobility as his domains. Ruze, the cleric of Shaharizod before him had Protection and Nobility. Soriah, the first cleric of Shaharizod was pre-3rd edition so she didn't have any domains.

And you'll notice that in addition to some domains and spells, I lifted a couple of locales out of FR as well - most notably Myth Drannor. That's a result of this campaign using a setting I worked up from available sources in the very early '80s. Myth Drannor was featured in an adventure called (appropriately enough) "Into the Forgotten Realms" and I just added the location to an unpopulated area of my world map. This was long before the setting was published, so my Myth Drannor is not the same as the official one.

Keep up the great work!

I aim to please.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #313] Southward Ho!, part 9

Huzair spared one of his healing potions on Wolf, bringing the animal back to consciousness. This prompted Lela to hug the wizard's face, planting a tiny kiss on his eyelid.

"Ah! Mind the piercings!" he chided, gently pulling her hand off the ring in his ear that she was using as a handle. Giggling, she fluttered away to lavish Wolf instead.

The others conferenced at the edge of the Entangle while they waited for it to dissipate.

"There'll likely be more at the manor house," Ledare commented, eying the rooftop just partially visible high on the wooded hillside. Karak nodded.

"Aye. That much seems plain enough," he agreed. "We should press the attack!"

"I disagree," Morier said with a rueful shake of his head. "I have all but depleted my magic. And I'd wager that Huzair is the same although he'd never admit it."

"I've a few blessings in me yet, but my healin' stick's runnin' a might low," Karak admitted. He looked at Ledare. "What say ye? Findin' tha' Shamalin lass be your quest. Do we press on?"

Ledare sighed. "It is pointless for us to fail just because we overtaxed our resources. Shamalin will not be served by our deaths," she said. "I hate to think what evils she may be enduring, but our best chance to rescue her is to go in as prepared as we may be."

"As ye wish!" Karak said. "The faerie's magic seems to be fadin' so let's glean what we can from th' dead an' then make for Floxen."



Their opponents had been well-equipped and well-paid. Their weapons were masterwork quality and in top condition, but without any identifying ornamentation. The maker's mark on each ricasso had been thoroughly obscured, but the origin of each weapon had clearly been a common forge. The same held true for their plate mail although the armor was of a more pedestrian make than the bastard swords and daggers.

Feln gathered the dead into a central pile, carrying the corpses over his broad shoulders like armor-plated sacks of grain. Lela then used her natural ability to Detect Magic on the pile, identifying by their auras a pair of rings and a mace, as well as Sir Brin's armor, shield, and sword.

"Dibs on the rings!" Huzair shouted eagerly as he snatched them up. He slipped one on without hesitation and felt... a presence.

"Brin?" a voice rasped in the wizard's head. "Are they dead?"

"Uh... Yes," Huzair bluffed, ready to yank the ring off at the first sign of any threat from that quarter.

"Good," the voice replied, apparently unaware of the mage's deception. "Gather the bodies and bring them to me." In response, Huzair removed the ring and told the others what he'd heard.

"Could be Heurist," Ledare postulated. "He was with Brin last time I saw them." She gave them a brief refresher on the pair while they all gathered what spoils they cared to take.



Feln was disinterested in the loot, having no use for armor and swords, particularly those sized for a body half as big as his own. Still he recognized the value of the items and knew that they could be brokered into healing draughts or other items that might ultimately benefit him. He was in the process of joylessly stripping Sir Brin's nearly headless corpse when he froze.

Years ago - literally in another life - Feln had belonged to a group of martial artists in the Freehold of Farmin who called themselves the Gelgian Brotherhood. They had a well-earned reputation within the right circles as consummate infiltrators and spies, trading in secrets and political intrigues. The Gelgians also held a less-well-known reputation amongst a select few clients who had powerful enemies, tight lips, and overflowing coffers. For the right amount of gold, one of these practitioners of the Shadow Warrior fighting style, could eliminate a client's enemy - no matter how well protected they might be. Feln was on such a mission when the monastery in Palton Bay was attacked and his fellow Gelgians put to the sword.

He returned to find only corpses of men and half-elves he'd grown up amongst since birth - the only family he'd ever known. There were no survivors to explain who had attacked or why, and Feln uncovered only two clues within the wreckage of his former life. The first was the word of a nearby blacksmith named Abos who claimed to have seen armored riders bearing a yellow banner visit the monastery during the time that Feln was gone. The second clue was found buried hilt-deep in his former master's chest: a black dagger with a pommel worked into the shape of a predatory bird. Sadly, he'd lost the blade - along with all his other worldly possessions, including his original body - in the belly of the Chaos Elemental.

Looking now at the eagle-head fashioned into the haft of a morningstar hanging from Sir Brin's belt sent a rush of discovery through Feln's chest. He crouched down, ripped the black morningstar free with a jerk and brought it closer to his eyes, examining the iron bird. It was the same. He looked at Sir Brin with new eyes, noting the man's bright yellow livery, and he knew that he was close. Closer than he'd ever been to those who had killed his family.

"What'd ya find?" Lela asked as she alighted on the half-ogre's shoulder. He scowled and rose to his feet.

"Nothing," he said unconvincingly as he thrust the morningstar into his wide, studded belt. "Nothing that can't wait."

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #314] An Unexpected Guest

OOC- Since no one complained last time, I'll include a footnote at the end of this post as well.

----------------------------

There was a bard in Floxen named Thyri who was willing to Identify the magical gear they'd taken off of Sir Brin and his ilk. It cost the party a fair bit of gold and used up Thyri's entire supply of pearls, but it was worth it for the magical haul they received. Among the choice items were an enchanted longsword, shield and platemail armor taken off Sir Brin himself; and a magical mace and Ring of Blinking taken off the priest. There was also the matter of the Ring of Communication.

No one had dared put that on since leaving Miller's Pond, despite Mellona's assertion that neither it nor any of the other items were evil in and of themselves. No one wanted to chance giving away any secrets to the enemy.



"You all are free of any disease," the Matriarch told them after she'd performed the necessary rituals. They'd all undergone an extensive check-up - both magical and mundane - upon returning to the Healing Hall and they felt fit and ready for action. Honored Sister Mellona was not convinced of this, however.

"It was a mistake for me to send you to Miller's Pond without a proper cleric," she apologized. "Both you, Faithful Daughter, and your dwarven companion radiate the aura of good that comes only from divine connection. I assumed, incorrectly, that you would be capable of destroying the undead through simple means of your faith."

"Tha' be nae the dwarven way," Karak grumbled and Mellona nodded.

"I have little experience with dwarves," she said. "I should have asked."

"Aww," Huzair said, waving her off. "We did alright without one, didn't we?"

"And you were forced to retreat here rather than press on to locate Shamalin and the Speckled Band for lack of healing," the Matriarch pointed out and Huzair couldn't argue the point with her. "But I had hoped to remedy that on your return journey."

"That is very gracious, Sister. Some healing potions would go a long way toward-" Ledare started, but Mellona shook her head.

"I'm afraid that we haven't a large supply of potions on hand," she said. "I plan to send with you a Sister of Beneficence." At that Huzair elbowed Morier, waggled his eyebrows and grinned lasciviously. Fortunately neither Ledare nor Mellona noticed.

"Are you sure that is wise, Sister," Ledare argued. "This is dangerous business and Flor's clerics are not martially-inclined."

"It will fall upon you to see no harm comes to her, Faithful Daughter," Mellona explained. "But she was called to Flor's side but recently, and she brings many talents from her life before that makes her better suited to this task than an acolyte fresh from the White Hall in Widdershin." The Matriarch motioned to the page standing ready at the door and he opened the door and ushered in a woman of great stature. With the exception of Feln, she towered over everyone else in the room. Her skin was freckled from the sun and a single thick braid of cornsilk hair hung down over her left shoulder. She wore the simple white vestments of a priestess of Flor and carried a worn staff of white ash in one strong hand.

"Yowza," Huzair sighed.

She studied the VQS with ice blue eyes and they spread wide with shock as they fell upon the Janissary.

"Ledare!" the woman hissed.

"Hildegunna!" Ledare shot back. [1]

Then, at the same time they both muttered, "White Lady, give me strength!"


----------------------------

[1] Hildegunna first appeared in the company of Ledare's... umm... friend, Del back in Barnacus. She helped Ledare locate Kirnoth after the elf was captured by Jermlaine. You can read about it here.

 

[Kristeneve]

Well, after many invitations from Jon and nearly seven years of playing I am writing my first "reply to thread." (I hope this lands in the right place). It is a post of appreciation. First to our most talented DM - whose tireless efforts keep this wonderful game alive. And also to Hairy Minotaur - for faithful reading. I always enjoy your comments.

Kristen / Ledare

 

[Jon Potter]

Well, after many invitations from Jon and nearly seven years of playing I am writing my first "reply to thread."

It's about time!

Thanks for stopping by. Don't be a stranger.

It is a post of appreciation. And also to Hairy Minotaur - for faithful reading. I always enjoy your comments.

I suspect (but only by viewing the escalating page view count) that there are other faithful readers lurking out there. But I must admit that I too enjoy HM's comments.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

I suspect (but only by viewing the escalating page view count) that there are other faithful readers lurking out there. But I must admit that I too enjoy HM's comments.

Uh oh........ pressure.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #315] All Manor of Trouble

"You two have met?" Mellona asked, clearly taken aback by both Hildegunna's and Ledare's reactions to one another.

"Yes," Hildegunna responded quickly. "This woman begged my aid some moonsdances past. Of course, I gave it freely."

"That was most charitable of you, sister," the Matriarch smiled and Ledare rubbed her forehead with her hand.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mumbled just loud enough for Hildegunna to hear and the woman shot her an icy glance.

"It is good that you are familiar with one another," Mellona went on. "It will make working together now all the easier. I charge you both with the task of returning Sister Shalamin to us. Further, Sister Hildegunna, it is your duty to heal these worthies as you can. And Faithful Daughter Ledare, you in turn must see that no harm comes to Sister Hildigunna."

"I will do as you have asked, Mother Mellona," Hildegunna said with a respectful nod. Conflicting emotions warred across Ledare's face as she considered the high cleric's edicts.

"I think it is a mistake to send another of our order into harm's way," Ledare managed to say in place of: I don't want this woman traveling with me. Mellona smiled at her warmly.

"It is good of you to show such concern for your Benevolent Sister, but I think it particularly important to have a priestess of Flor along on this mission given the influence of the Filth Goddess in Miller's Pond," she said, laying a reassuring hand on Ledare's shoulder. "And I have every confidence in your ability to keep her from any harm, Faithful Daughter."

Hildegunna gave Ledare an utterly insincere smile and the Janissary rolled her eyes.
"I will do as you have commanded, Holy Mother," Ledare told Mellona, struggling to maintain her much-vaunted calm.



Later, Karak asked the Janissary how exactly she and Hildegunna had met, but Ledare didn't care to relive the incident, saying only, "We spent some time together in the sewers of Barnacus. This is starting to smell even worse."

Earthday, the 25th - Starday, the 27th of Goodmonth, 1269 AE​

Huzair spent a full 24 hours riding in the wagon, burning incense and chanting incoherently so that he could summon a familiar. By the time they reached Miller's Pond, the wizard had a new magical helper: a hummingbird named Sparky.

For their part of the journey, Ledare and Hildegunna did their best to stay out of each other's way and managed quite effectively to not speak to one another. Ledare had a particularly difficult time holding her tongue when Hildegunna swapped out her modest clerical robes for the more familiar - and far from modest - garb she had favored the last time Ledare had seen her. The blue teardrop holy symbol resting between her mostly-exposed breasts seemed nearly obscene to the Janissary, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Hildegunna had little to say in any case. She spoke with the males about her recent conversion to worship of Flor. It was apparently spurred by a visionquest she'd undertaken as soon as she'd left Barnacus. From the bits and pieces the cleric let drop, Ledare was able to surmise that Del had left Hildegunna at the same time he'd left her to undertake the King's mission on the Borderlands. The Janissary felt a secret joy at that news.

Lela spent time flitting about, talking at length to anyone who would listen of her successes in the previous sojourn into Miller's Pond. Before too much of this nonstop chatter, that left only Wolf. "Hey, wasn't that great when I cast Entangle? And remember when I sprinkled the Dust of Confusion??? I'm amazing, aren't I?" she prattled, making more than a few ears yearn for Vade's return from the land of the dead. "How did you guys battle without me? Or was this your first battle too?"

It was mid-afternoon when they finally reached the town, and they found it largely as they remembered it. The signs of their prior battle were unmistakable in the square although someone had gone to the trouble of removing the bodies of Sir Brin and his lackeys. The smell of death and corruption was more pronounced than it had been the last time - unsurprising given the numerous corpses secreted in the various buildings. Still, it was strong enough to make the horses skittish and cause several noses - Hildegunna's in particular - to curl with disgust.

"Why is it that every time I am in your company I smell sh*t?" the Benevolent Sister asked Ledare as she covered her mouth with her hand. They were the first words the woman had spoken to the Janissary since leaving Floxen.

"I didn't ask to babysit you," Ledare answered as she dismounted. "We'll leave the horses here and head up to the manor through the woods as planned." The others obliged while Lela tried her best to calm Wolf. Clearly, the animal was as frightened as the horses and was whining loudly.

"There's something unnatural here," Lela warned. "Moreso than last time, even."

An ululating cry split the air at that moment, confirming the druid's assessment. Feln darted forward and peered around the corner of the nearest building. There several hundred feet away across the square was... something. The bizarre creature had a body roughly the size and shape of a horse, but a ridge of boney chitin ran along its spine and its belly hung pale, bloated and covered with a network of purple veins. Its head was like that of a huge vulture, possessed of a beak that looked capable of snapping a man's leg in half with ease. Beneath the head, a pair of bruise-colored limbs writhed anxiously.

The half-ogre darted back, forestalling Karak and Morier. "There's some sort of... thing out there," he warned them. "I've never seen anything like it." Karak harrumphed and then two more answering cries ripped the afternoon air. They couldn't pinpoint the sound, but at least one of them seemed to be coming from off to the right of their current position.

"Well, let's get out there an' start choppin' 'em into -" Karak started to say and then Hildegunna cried out in alarm.

"Flor have mercy!" she shouted pointing toward the open doorway of a nearby building. "What is that?"

There, shuffling toward them, was an abomination that had no place in a rational world - a six foot walking bladder, with its arms and legs formed by belts and straps of leather. Even at this distance, it was obvious that the skin of the bladder was human, a horrible montage of stitched-together human faces. As it moved closer, the cloud of buzzing flies and the maggots leaking from the stitched-shut nostrils and mouths and eyes became evident, showing the VQS the vermin that animated the blasphemous skin.

Another unwholesome howl came from behind them, momentarily allowing them to tear their eyes away from the shuffling horror and reminding them that they had other enemies to contend with as well.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #316] Welcoming Committee

"Oi, and I was worried about facing more zombies. We have serious necromancy afoot 'ere!" Karak grumbled, spitting at his feet for emphasis. He looked from the advancing bag of flesh to the unnatural bird-headed thing and back again. "I do nae know which be worse, the walking dead or chaos."

"Wolf doesn't like either of them," Leala twittered as she did her best to handle the animal's fear. The dwarf nodded, sharing the wolf's feelings on the matter.

"Lass, why nae take Feln and Huzair to the face o' maggots whilst I, Morier and Lela take the buzzard beastie," the dwarf suggested to Ledare. "Lela do your thingie. Huzair try not to light your own hair on fire. Ha!" The bald wizard gave the dwarf a withering look and reached into his spell component pouch.

"You!" Karak commanded, pointing his axe at Hildegunna. "You, tall drink of water, see if your Goddess grants ye the power to turn or smite these foul things." She nodded at the dwarf, clutching her holy symbol.

Ledare caught the woman's eye as she stepped in front of her and saw that, despite her abrasive facade, she was keeping her fear barely in check. "Stand back, but help as you can," the Janissary instructed, and assumed a defensive stance.

Karak turned away from the undead abomination, drawing with ease but not flair the longsword they'd liberated from Sir Brin. He looked up at Morier as he passed and said, "You might want to give me breadth in there, White One, it's been a while since I used one of these long pokers." The albino reached out a hand and stalled the dwarf's advance, gesturing to the undead thing which had closed to within twenty feet.

"Let's take this vile beast from both sides," the eldritch warrior said with an unfamiliar air of command in his voice. Something fundamental had changed for Morier within the Grove of Renewal and he embraced it now. "Karak, Ledare - you take the right flank; Feln and I will take the left. Lela - anything you can do from above to aid us would be much appreciated." The faen saluted and shot up into the sky. "Huzair - do what you usually do - stand back and try not to get your hands dirty with any actual fighting."

Huzair was preparing components to cast a spell, but he spared a moment to sneer at the albino. "Hey Morier, instead of giving orders, how about using some of that magic Uncle Appie taught you?"

"Way ahead of you!" the eldritch warrior grinned, activating his own innate magic without the use of components. "Taurinus corroboro!" he intoned and his body swelled with the strength of a bull.

Huzair's scowl deepened. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to buff before battle!" he chided just as another otherworldly howl split the air from somewhere nearby - perhaps just to the other side of the building behind which they had gathered. It gave the wizard quite a start, but had no noticeable effect on the vermin-filled abomination that was their closest opponent.

It shambled forward toward the nearest enemy - Ledare. The Janissary steeled herself feeling a strange sense of calm come over her moments before she found herself enveloped by the stinking cloud of flies that buzzed around the thing. Several of the fat insects found their way into her mouth and down her throat, making her gag uncontrollably even as the sack creature itself tried spread its arms as if to hug her. Reflexively, she raised Ravager and the bastard sword easily slashed through the thing's stitched-together torso, spoiling its grapple. It also opened a gap in the monster's skin, spilling a torrent of steaming maggots onto the ground beside it.

Feln took a single step onto the foul creature's flank and swung his quarterstaff in a massive arc that caught the creature's torso midswing. The blow lifted the creature off its malformed feet, rupturing its numerous seams in the process and causing the deflated skin to flutter obscenely through the air amidst a wet cascade of maggots. It landed messily some distance away and did not get back up.

"Yay!" Lela cheered, but the excitement was short-lived. The thunderous pounding of feet signaled the charge of the bird-headed thing. It moved with unlikely speed, closing the distance between itself and the VQS in moments.

"Flammifer sphaera!" Huzair shouted, casting iron dust onto the ground. The earth burst suddenly into flame and coalesced into a flaming sphere that followed the wizard's direction and rolled directly into the aberration's path. The creature wailed in surprise as the ball of flames struck its legs. Its cry was answered from the east as another of the creatures appeared from the alley beside the familiar mill. It barreled at them across the square.

Ledare spit the dead flies out of her mouth and grinned darkly at Huzair as she passed him. "There's nothing upstanding about these Miller's Pond citizens," she quipped. "Have at them!" The mage gave her an annoyed look.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he retorted, keeping his attention focused on controlling the Flaming Sphere.

Hildegunna wove her hands in an intricate pattern before her, light seeming to trail from her hands as she plucked expertly at the Weave. A swirling mass of color sprang into being between the two bird-headed creatures, its hypnotic pattern mirroring her hands' motions. The newest arrival on the battlefield skidded to a stop, its attention riveted to the intricate pattern of light that filled the air beside it. The beast that was being immolated by Huzair's ball of fire paid the pattern no mind.

"Now, Ledare, I know you have your own Goddess now, but I say this: you've lead us all this far, and you'll keep it up. I do know it," Karak intoned, drawing on his god-granted ability to Inspire his Allies. "The white one, the faierie, and I will keep up our end, you lot see to yours. If you need help, just ask Morier. He can dish it out. Ha!"

Lela was getting an aerial view of the battlefield when she felt the uplifting benefit of the dwarf's words. There was a third of the monsters on the other side of the building that guarded the VQS' left flank and the thing would be upon them in another few moments. But perhaps more troubling was the solitary man she spotted running as fast as his two legs would carrying him toward the road leading up to the manor. "Wolf!" she commanded, pointing in the direction that the man was fleeing. "Seek!"

The animal pricked up its ears, cocked its head and then took off around the far side of the building. As soon as it rounded the corner and spotted the runner, its hackles bristled and it poured on the speed.

Bolstered by Karak's words of encouragement, Morier hefted his greatsword and charged the nearest of the creatures. His silvered blade opened a three foot gash along the thing's meaty thigh. It howled again and almost collapsed under the savage onslaught as its dark blood soaked the packed earth of the square.

Of course, Morier's advance left an opening in their ranks that was suddenly exploited by the third of the monsters making its presence known to all. It rounded the building and went for Huzair who stood slightly apart from the others, concentrating on his spell. The creature's beak slashed without warning into the wizard's head, nearly severing it. The mage was built of sterner stuff than he at first appeared, however, and he managed to avoid the killing blow by instinctively rolling with the attack. Even so, the thing's curved beak slashed open a ragged flap of skin from his scalp, painting the wizard's face at once with steaming blood, and revealing a swathe of the white bone beneath.