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Message: <blockquote data-quote="havenstone" data-source="post: 4337458" data-attributes="member: 61094">The First BattleAS THEY REACH the outskirts of Rim Square, the eight friends see a group of five headhunters stalking toward them, headed by Avarin the reeve. The wild-eyed reeve accuses them of disregarding his orders, undermining his authority, and spreading panic around the farms. He declares them under arrest for their lies. Ontaya retorts in her most authoritative voice that there will soon be a thousand Haraks descending on the town, and if they don’t immediately begin working together to fend off the barbarian assault, everyone in Rim Square will die. In the tense and uncertain atmosphere, Atrix makes an acerbic comment, and one of the headhunters hurls his short sword at the young nobleman. Meeshak’s whip cracks loudly, deflecting the weapon in midair. “Enough of this nonsense,” the gaunt young priest barks, glowering at the reluctantly impressed headhunters. When the final disintegration of his authority becomes clear, the reeve collapses, frothing at the mouth, while the party returns to town to begin planning the defense of Rim Square. The leader of the headhunters’ guild, a one-eyed fighter named Betram, accepts their story, as do the frightened villagers led by the innkeeper, smith, and miller. Together they agree on the houses that need to be pulled down to barricade the main roads of Rim Square, leaving one side apparently vulnerable to lure the barbarians into a trap. At nightfall, hundreds of torches flare alight in the forests and mountains around the little village. The Harak horde has arrived, outnumbering the defenders of Rim Square by roughly five to one. THE BONDS OF loyalty between the eight young comrades are forged during that first battle together, through the long night of fighting the Haraks on the rooftops and rubble of their village. Afterward, much of it is a blur in their memories: the axes glinting in the torchlight, the ululating cries and matted hair of the enemy, the desperate scramble to retain the high ground and push back the waves of young, thin barbarian fighters. After hours of fierce combat, they manage to collapse another house on top of a Harak offensive surge, breaking the attackers’ morale and spurring a retreat. Things still look grim in the smoldering wreckage of Rim Square. Meeshak and Ontaya have exhausted their healing blessings for the day, and most of the party are injured and on the verge of collapse. The headhunters bore the worst of the assault, and have been decimated; their rough but reliable chief Betram is dead, as is Avarin the reeve, and the remaining headhunters are muttering darkly about making a run for it before sunrise. Half an hour after the Harak withdrawal, the villagers on watch cry out in terror that they see movement in the dark. Groaning, the survivors muster up again for a fight to the death. Instead, they hear a voice echo through the smoke and darkness. “I am Shect, a Swordsmark of Scarth Tower. I have fourteen men with me -- seasoned fighters who have not yet drawn a weapon this night.” “What is your business here?” one of the headhunters calls back unsteadily. “We are here to save you. One Swordsmark is worth a hundred men in battle, and my archers can bring down Haraks by the dozen.” Carwyn is already frantically beckoning her seven friends back into the Brass Hog’s Head before the next words come. “All I ask is that you give me the students of Kemeras the traitor, who stole from our Brotherhood, and whose students are accomplices to his theft.”</blockquote>

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