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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1392" data-attributes="member: 143">Part 13“Where is he?” Delem asked nervously.  “He’ll be all right,” Cal said in reassurance.  He and the rest of the companions, save Benzan, were perched along the knobby crest of a low knoll, lying prone among the tufts of thick weeds and small boulders.  In the distance, between the trees of the forest, the stockade and towers of the small fort dominated their attention.  It was late afternoon, with the sun well on its way toward the western horizon.  Heading in the direction suggested by the relocated badger, they had encountered the trail taken by the prisoners and their guards in a few hours.  Even if Cullan hadn’t spotted the signs of fairly recent passage, though, it would have been difficult for them to miss the impact of this place on the local environment.  Massive stumps dotted the forest floor here and there, surrounded by discarded branches and deep runnels in the forest growth formed by whoever had dragged the trunks away.  Those trails had all converged here, making it easy for them to find the place.  It also made them a bit nervous, when their imaginations tried to figure out who or what had managed to move those trees…They had been hyper-alert, expecting patrols or sentries, but they’d had no encounters since Cal’s conversation with the badger that morning.  It was Delem who had first spotted the stockade through the thinning screen of trees as the land began to grow more rugged around them.  It was clear that the place was occupied, from the smells of food and more unpleasant things that drifted over on the breeze, and from the sounds of clanging metal that were audible from within.  They cautiously found a place where they could observe unseen, and debated their next course.  Even if they’d had all of the men who’d returned to Dunderion with them, a frontal assault on the place clearly would have been foolish.  The surrounding forest had been cleared out to a distance of several hundred feet around the stockade walls, giving the occupants of the two watchtowers a clear line of fire to anyone approaching the fort.  And while there was no way to guess how many men, or hobgoblins, or whatever else might be occupying the place, it was clearly large enough to support a significant garrison.  In this context Telwarden gave no orders, but solicited the advice and comments of his companions.  Ultimately they decided to send Cullan and Benzan out in a wide arc to scout out the approaches to the fort, and learn what they could.  Cullan’s cloak of elvenkind allowed him to blend easily into the surrounding scenery, and Benzan just seemed to have a gift for not being seen. Cullan had returned after about a half-hour, but another hour had since passed—and no sign of Benzan.  “But what if he doesn’t come back?” Delem persisted.  “If something does happen to him, we’ll hear about it,” Telwarden said.  “Cullan said there’s only the one main gate, and we can see it from here.  We’ll know if anyone comes or goes.”“Hsst! Someone comes!” Cullan whispered, and they all hunkered down in their concealment, readying their weapons just in case.  But it was only Benzan, who materialized out of the bushes at the base of their redoubt and quickly skipped up the slope to join them.  He looked a little haggard, and there was a sheen of sweat across his face.  A shallow cut across his forearm showed a thin line of red blood.  “What happened?” Cal asked, when he was close enough so that they could talk without raising their voices.  “They have dogs,” he said, dropping to the ground and gratefully accepting the waterskin that Lok handed him.  After taking a few swallows and rinsing the heat off his face, he told them all what he found.  “I had a close call, but they didn’t see me—or at least, they didn’t realize what was setting off their guard dogs.  I skirted the entire ring of forest around the fort, and found a track that leads deeper into those hills, on the opposite side of the fort from where we are.  I followed the trail for a bit, and it ends up in a nest of those hills, by a cluster of cave openings.  There’s a hobgoblin guard post there, but it looks like most of the activity is going on inside those caves.”“What are they doing in there?” Telwarden wondered out loud. In answer to his question, Benzan produced a small chunk of rock from his pocket.  It was bluish-gray in color, marbled with striations of varying dark colors.  “I found this along the trail.”“Silver ore,” Lok said.  Benzan nodded.  “Looks like our bandit friends have got a little mining operation going on here,” he said.“So that’s why they needed the prisoners,” Telwarden said, his jawline tightening at the thought of the captives—and in particular, the Lady Ilgarten—being put to slave labor in a silver mine.  “They’ve probably been raiding the surrounding trade routes for some time; people have been known to disappear in the wilds, a fact of life in these dangerous lands.  Any sign of how many hobgoblins might be there?”“There were four keeping watch over the entrance, but I didn’t see any more.  I’d be really surprised, though, if there weren’t more inside.”“And yet more at the fort,” Cullan pointed out.  “I would guess that they return the prisoners to the fort for the night, although that isn’t a certainty, given the fact that hobgoblins function just fine in the darkness,” Cal suggested.  “We’ll be outnumbered, whichever plan we try,” Benzan said.  “Fine with me,” Lok offered, hefting his magical axe.  “We’ll free the captives first,” Telwarden said.  “Then we’ll worry about that fort.  Agreed?”His gaze traveled the circle of companions, who each nodded in turn.  “Lead on, Benzan.”* * * * * As Lok had said, most plans rarely survived the first clash of arms.  With Benzan blazing their route, the companions made a wide circle through the forest, giving the fort a wide berth.  They left their horses behind in a concealed copse, relying on stealth rather than speed this time.  They came up on the entrance to the mines from an angle, avoiding the well-traveled trail that led back to the fort.  As they made their way toward their destination, Cal came up beside Delem.  “You might find this helpful,” he said, touching one of his wands to the sorcerer, who could not help but flinch a little at the contact.  As it had with Benzan, the magic of the device shrouded Delem with a faintly glowing coat of mage armor, which faded into invisibility after a few moments.  “I’ve already treated myself to the same,” the gnome said.  “It will last about an hour, and protect you from attacks for that time.  Be careful, though—it’s not as effective as Lok’s platemail by far.”“Thank you,” Delem said.  “And take this,” Cal said, offering him another wand, the one he had taken from the hobgoblin adept.  “I have the sleep spell already, and we might need to refrain from throwing fire bolts and sheets of flames all around if there are prisoners about.”Delem looked reluctant.  “I don’t know how to use it,” he said, holding the wand as if it were a live serpent.  “It’s easy.  You can feel the magic held within, can’t you?” At Delem’s nod, he continued, “All you have to do is tap it, to focus your thoughts on the power, and summon forth the stored spell.  If it was one of those items made with a command-word, that would be something else, but the mage who created this wand kept it simple.”Delem nodded.  As they neared the mines they slowed their course, Benzan leading them carefully around the thick knots of boulders with weeds poking out from in between.  They climbed slowly up a slope that culminated in a single huge granite slab the size of a house.  Benzan gestured to indicate that the entrance was on the far side.The plan was simple.  When Benzan gave the signal, they would unleash a volley of missiles and spells to take out the initial guards quickly, then charge into the mine to overcome whatever guards were within.  Then, after freeing the prisoners, they could learn more about what they could expect from the occupants of the fort.  If they were lucky, they could kill the guards and be off with the hostages before the remaining garrison was even aware that enemies were in the vicinity.That was the plan, anyway.  They realized that something was up even before they made it around the huge slab, when they heard the crack of a whip and the shout of a deep voice.“Pick up that sack, you lazy human!”Benzan gestured for the others to stay back while he crept up onto the back of the slab and looked out over the area beyond.  Instead of four hobgoblin guards, there were a dozen, watching and cajoling half again that many slaves.  Most of the prisoners were human, but Benzan quickly made out several kobalds, a very bedraggled dwarf, and an orc.  Most showed signs of abuse at the hands of their masters, and all wore crude shackles on their ankles and linked to at least two other prisoners by a length of chain.  The slaves were in the process of gathering heavy sacks from a large pile near the entrance of the mine, obviously to carry back to the fort.  Overseeing the whole operation was a large hobgoblin wearing a suit of chainmail and carrying a heavy maul slung across one shoulder.  Beside him was a smaller hobgoblin, perhaps an adolescent, who held two large and very vicious looking hounds by chains linked to spiked collars.  Several of the guards carried loaded crossbows, but the weapons and their attentions were pointed in the direction of the slaves, not outward toward a potential danger from the forest.    Benzan turned to retreat back down the slab to rejoin the others, but at that moment the dogs started barking.  Several of the hobgoblins turned and began scanning the surrounding area, looking for whatever had spooked their pets.  Benzan and Telwarden exchanged a quick glance.  The sheriff from Dunderion nodded.  “Attack!”Benzan opened the battle by standing atop the slab, drawing back his longbow and sending a shaft into one of the hobgoblin archers.  The arrow bit deep into its shoulder, causing it to loose its bolt harmlessly up and away to the side.  Even as several of its companions sighted in on him, Delem and Cal both launched their magic into the enemy ranks.  Both used the same spell, Cal from his own repertoire of magic and Delem from his new wand.  Two of the archers wavered and collapsed into magical sleep, their crossbows falling harmlessly to the ground, while on the other side of the group, Delem’s aim was less true as three of the prisoners and one of the guards joined them in unconsciousness.  Another of the slaves, the orc, took advantage of this to rush forward—all but dragging the two humans attached to his chain with him—and picked up the fallen guard’s battleaxe.  Another of the guards noticed this and stabbed at the orc with his spear, but misjudged the distance and failed to connect.  The other prisoners, disoriented by the sudden outbreak of battle around them, either cowered near the cave entrance or tried to slip off into the surrounding woods, hindered by their shackles and chains.  Several of the enemy were already down or wounded, but the hobgoblins still had the advantage of numbers as Lok and Telwarden rounded the slab and charged into their nearest opponents, Lok loosing a bolt from his heavy crossbow as he came.  The missile slammed into the side of the nearest opponent, staggering him enough for Telwarden to take him down with a mighty stroke to his head.  As Cullan scrambled up atop the slab to join Benzan, the hobgoblins counterattacked.  The youth released his hounds, and the two ferocious beasts launched themselves at the melee gathering around Telwarden and Lok.  The two warriors fought well as a team, though, protecting each other’s backs so that their enemies could not flank them.  The sound of heavy blows surrounded them as they took blows on their shields or heavy armor.  The two war dogs, trained for battle by the hobgoblins, tried to bring them down by latching onto them with their powerful jaws, but both warriors were able to hold them off.  Still, with two warriors against three, plus the two dogs, the odds were decidedly against the embattled warriors.  The companions of those two warriors sought to even the odds, however.  Benzan shot another arrow, dropping the archer that he had earlier wounded.  The last archer left standing returned fire, but the bolt missed the agile tiefling, who had the advantage of cover provided by the mass of the slab.  Benzan realized the error in his choice of targets a moment later, however, as the hobgoblin leader, who had not yet joined the fray, lifted a horn to his lips and blew out a loud rumbling blast from it.  The sound echoed through the hills, and the companions had no doubt that its note was heard quite clearly at the fortress just a short distance away.  His warning given, the hobgoblin took up his maul and charged toward the embattled genasi and sheriff.  The last hobgoblin, the youth, hefted a javelin and followed him.  The two magic-users had not been directly engaged by the enemy, and they used that oversight to their full advantage.  Cal came forward and lined himself up for a blast from his wand of color spray, carefully aiming to make sure that Telwarden would be on the periphery of the blast.  The streaming colors caught not only one of the warriors engaged with the sheriff, but also the charging leader.  The first warrior went down, but the leader only stumbled, temporarily blinded by the gnome’s magic.  Behind him, the hobgoblin youth faltered, uncertain, the javelin forgotten in his hand.   Rather than risking another use of the wand, Delem relied on his innate magic, launching a pair of fiery missiles at one of Lok’s adversaries.  The two burning bolts staggered the hobgoblin, but it did not fall.  Lok’s attention was focused on the dog, still trying to get a grip on the doughty genasi fighter.  Both he and Telwarden realized that the hounds were the greater danger, for if they managed to trip either of them up, they would be easy prey for the hobgoblins they still confronted.  Lok managed to reduce that threat as he brained the hapless mutt with a chop that crushed its skull, dropping it with a thin veneer of ice crystals matting its mangy fur around the wound.  Telwarden was less fortunate, although his blow ripped into the second dog’s shoulder and kept it at bay for the moment.  The melee raged in a mass of confusion, but the suddenness of the attack and the effect of the companions’ initial attacks had thrown the hobgoblin ranks into disarray.  Only half of the twelve guards were left standing, including the blinded leader and the timorous youngling.  Only Telwarden had been wounded, a slight cut on one arm where a hobgoblin spear had grazed him.   Perhaps the leader, blinded though he was, realized the shifting balance, for he shouted out an order to his allies.  “Brakthok Morok!” he yelled, and those hobgoblins that still could started to disengage, heading in the direction of the fort.  But the retreat quickly became a rout.  The orc prisoner was grappling with one of the guards, and even as the hobgoblin leader issued his command he managed to slay his opponent with a blow from his stolen axe.  The kobold prisoners, realizing that their captors were indeed beaten,  had fallen on the pair of sleeping archers, and were even now tearing them to pieces with their sharp little teeth and claws.  From atop the slab, Benzan and Cullan plied their bows, dropping several of the hobgoblin warriors as they sought to retreat.  Cal and Delem, realizing the need to conserve their own magic, joined them with fire from their crossbows. Lok and Telwarden, meanwhile, had combined to finish the remaining hound, and now converged on the still half-blinded leader.  Instinctively sensing the danger as it stumbled toward the trail, it swiped its maul in a powerful two-handed arc, but missed the cautious fighters.  Moments later Lok’s axe and Telwarden’s sword made short work of it, marking an end to the battle.  Only two hobgoblins had escaped, the adolescent and the last archer.  “They’ll be back soon enough, with friends,” Telwarden said as the victorious companions surveyed the battlefield.  Dead hobgoblins lay in a haphazard mess around them.  But more pressing was the problem of the prisoners.  Those that hadn’t fled were watching the companions expectantly, waiting for whatever was going to happen to them next.  The hobgoblin knocked out by Cal’s color spray was beginning to stir.  The ones put to sleep had already been slain, two by the kobolds, who had already vanished into the forest, chains and all, and the last by the orc, who still stood over the bodies of the two it had killed, holding the axe tightly and staring at them defiantly.  The two humans chained to it seemed to be trying to stay as far away from it as they could, given the limits of the chain.  “Let’s get these prisoners freed,” he said to his companions.  “Hopefully one of these hobgoblins has the keys on him…”“If not, I’ve got one,” Lok said, holding up his axe.  “Benzan, you and Cullan had better scout out the road, see how soon we can expect company,” Telwarden said.  The tiefling and tracker nodded, and were soon gone out of sight down the trail.  The others worked quickly to free the prisoners, pausing only when they came to the orc.  The creature had not moved since the end of the battle, and still watched them intently.  Up close, they could see that its naked torso was covered with both old and new scars. “Do you speak common?” Telwarden asked it. “Perhaps goblin,” Cal said, and offered a few phrases in that guttural language.  The orc did not respond.  “We don’t have time for this,” Telwarden said.  “Fight hobgoblins?” he said, gesturing toward one of the bodies and making a chopping motion to indicate what he meant.  The orc smiled, its harsh visage marred by several broken teeth, and nodded.  Even so, Cal and Delem watched it intently as Telwarden unlocked its chains, but once free it only walked around a bit, pausing finally to start stripping the armor from one of the dead hobgoblins.“What about the Lady Ilgarten?” Delem asked.  Telwarden had not forgotten about the main reason they were here, but he had postponed asking the most pressing question on his mind.  There were two human women among the slaves, but they were both older, well into middle age, and like most of the other slaves, had clearly been under the control of the hobgoblins for some time.  Telwarden did not want to ask his question because a part of him was afraid of what he would hear in response.  But at the mention of the name, one of the prisoners, a young man with shoulder-length hair the color of summer wheat, stood up quickly.  “You’re looking for Lady Ilgarten?  I was with her caravan—they’ve got her at the fort.  At least, they did last time I saw her, which was yesterday morning.”“Who are you?” Cal asked. “My name’s Aric,” the young man replied.  “I was one of the wagon drivers—as was Jarrick, here, and Tomas, over there by that orc.”  His face fell a little as his thoughts turned back to recent events.  “They killed all of the Lady’s guards, and Master Gondolio, on the road.  I don’t know why they killed him—he’d never hurt anybody.”“The lady—have they… have they mistreated her?” Telwarden asked.  Aric spoke quickly, his words almost falling over one another in his eagerness to get them out.  A few of the others had gathered closer, although there were still many fearful looks back down the trail in the direction of the fort.  “She got beat some,” he said sadly, “especially after she killed that bandit.  They didn’t like that one bit.  But after they found out who she was, I think the idea was they’d keep her for ransom, from what some of the human bandits said.  I didn’t see them hurt her again, even after she tried to escape later.”  Aric swallowed, suddenly putting something together in his mind.  “That was when they killed Gondolio, though, I remember…”“Listen carefully,” Telwarden said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring, although it was clear to those who knew him that it took some effort to do so.  “I need to know—”He was interrupted as the clear note of a horn sounded through the forest.  Benzan reappeared, running full speed down the trail toward them.  From the look on his face, his message was clear even before he delivered it, but the words sent a chill through them anyway.“They’re coming.”</blockquote>

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