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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 213639" data-attributes="member: 143">Thanks Bludgeon!  You can thank a boring, boring job for my high volume of production lately... the short writing breaks and visits to ENWorld that I sneak in during the day are the only thing keeping me awake through the more mundane tasks, I think...The funny thing is, the last time I was unemployed (briefly), I had all this time to write but I could never motivate myself to do so.  Ah, well.  Anyway, here's the next post...* * * * * Book IV, Part 30Time crept slowly onward as the companions and their allies fled down the trail, each of them all too aware that each minute brought their ogre pursuers closer.  That thought added speed to their steps, but as they pressed on the inevitable hand of weariness and stress began to take its toll.  The former prisoners, in particular, rapidly exhausted the energy boost born of desperation and fear, and soon their pace had slowed to a crawl despite the repeated urgings of Cal and Dana.  At one point a startled cry erupted back down the trail behind them, its source out of sight but not sounding very far distant.  Dana and Cal shared a look, and the mystic wanderer had even taken a reflexive step backward before Cal forestalled her.“He knows how to take care of himself,” he assured her.  “We have to keep moving.”Reluctantly, she nodded, helping a pair of dwarves who were leaning heavily on each other, moving forward through will alone.  * * * * * The formation that the dwarves called Knuckle Ridge rose up like a long dagger across their path, its uneven length broken by knobs of massive, weather-smoothed stone.  It did sort of look like the back of a clenched fist, Cal thought, as he regarded the area ahead.  He immediately saw what Gaera had meant when she’d said that this place was their best bet for a defense against the ogres.  From where he was standing, on a low crest a bowshot away from the ridge, the trail ran down to a narrow natural bridge that fell away to each side to a drop of at least a hundred feet.  That treacherous path reached the ridge and ran up into a steeply sloping culvert perhaps ten paces wide at its base; this route offered the only convenient access to the summit of the ridge perhaps thirty feet above the level of the trail below.  Other than that crevice, the only way up to the ridge was to scale the crumbling, thirty-foot cliffs to either side; not an easy task even when the way was not defended.  Lok had already started leading their ragtag company across the narrow path toward the ridge.  As Cal turned, however, he saw that Dana had paused behind him, and he immediately divined her intent in lingering.“Dana…”“I’m going back for Benzan and Jerral,” she said.  “Don’t try to stop me.”Cal opened his mouth to reply, but as if on cue, Benzan appeared around a bend of the trail about a hundred feet back of their current position, Jerral running just a few steps behind.  Dana hailed him with a wave, but as soon as he spotted them, Benzan shouted a warning.“Go!  They’re right behind us!”Cal grabbed Dana’s arm, but the woman was already moving, turning and leaping down to the path that ran across the narrow spit of stone between them and the ridgeline.  Cal followed, his short legs causing him to rapidly fall behind the woman as she started across the gap.  Anticipation of battle took the edge of his earlier exhaustion, and he saw that Lok had already reached the cleft, and that he and Nanoc were already helping the tired dwarves ascend to the crest.  The gnome heard footsteps behind him, and then Benzan was there, helping him along.  “We’ve got to teach you that spell Dana has, that helps you move faster,” he said chidingly, but Cal saw that he kept glancing back along the length of the trail behind them.  “I thought you were going to slow them down,” Cal replied, huffing a little as he ran. “Yeah, well, we tried.  Got one with a deadfall trap, but I don’t think that the others are going to slow down for anything short of death.”“I thought as much,” Cal said.  Their conversation ended there, as he had to dedicate all of his energy to running toward the narrow gap in the cliffs ahead.  He schooled himself not to look to the side of the pathway.  The way was sound enough, as the bridge was a good six paces across even at its narrowest point, but beyond that edge it was a long way down.  He saw that Lok was waiting for them, standing at the base of the ramp with his shield and axe slung and his longbow in his hands.  Most of the dwarves had reached the top of the cleft, and Cal could see Gaera directing them to defensive positions in preparation for the inevitable assault.  Cal had just reached the base of the ramp, Jerral and Benzan right on his heels, when he heard the shouts from above and the bellowing cry from behind.  He turned to see the first of the ogres emerging from amidst the boulders flanking the trail on the far side of the bridge.  Then his eyes narrowed as he marked Soroth amidst the first rank of warriors, holding aloft his longspear and roaring a command to his forces.  The half-fiend pointed the spear toward them, and even across the distance Cal could sense the marshalling of magical power.  “Go!” Benzan shouted, pushing Cal ahead up the ramp even as he drew one of Gaera’s magically enhanced arrows from his quiver and fitted it to his bowstring.  Beside him, Lok and Jerral were doing the same.  But the half-ogre sorcerer was faster, and before they could fire he spoke a word of dread magic and a jagged bolt of lightning erupted from his hand, traveling up the length of the spear before it lanced out toward them.  Benzan nudged Jerral and the two tumbled out of the way of the stroke, barely avoiding the force of the blast.Lok, however, was not so fortunate.  The electrical energy of the bolt slammed hard into his chest, driving him back against the wall of the cliff.  A few feet back, Cal also felt the effects of the blast, although he was spared the full force that Lok had absorbed.  Even so, he felt his skin tingle with sharp pain as the energy tore rapidly through him, and he could smell the acrid tinge of ozone mixed with burned flesh as the last flickering vestiges of electrical energy from the bolt drained away into the ground.  The defenders atop the ridge had already opened fire, and bolts and arrows started falling amidst the leading ranks of ogres.  As before, most fell wide or stuck in the ogres’ hide armor, but several struck flesh and stuck, adding another tally to the list of wounds suffered by the ogre barbarians.  Several targeted Soroth, but even though the missiles seemed true, at the last moment they glanced aside as if hitting an invisible barrier. Soroth’s defenses were still in place, it seemed. But Benzan and Jerral, having avoided the lightning bolt, were already on their feet again and drawing their bows.  Benzan shot first, his magically enhanced arrow knifing through the air, its power enabling it to slice through Soroth’s shields like a hot knife through butter.  The arrow lodged in the sorcerer’s leg, drawing a cry of pain and surprise.  It felt more of both an instant later as Jerral’s arrow joined Benzan’s, sticking the ogre in the arm.  Fury blazing in its eyes, the half-fiend yelled another command, and a wave of ogres descended upon the trail, bellowing a cry of attack at the top of their lungs as they rushed the defensive redoubt of the companions in the beginnings of an all-out assault.  Arrows from above lanced into them from above, but the ogres, consumed now by the rage of battle, seemed unstoppable.  Several took multiple hits, but seemed unfazed by wounds that should have dropped an ordinary creature.Benzan, Jerral, and Lok retreated up the ramp, firing their bows as they gave ground.  Benzan fired again at Soroth, but the sorcerer had retreated back within the cover of the boulders and his shot missed.  He knew that they hadn’t heard the last out of him, however, and he fervently hoped that the ogre didn’t have too many of those lightning bolts left to toss around.  For the moment, however, his attention was drawn to the nearly thirty ogres bearing down on them.  Boy, we could really use Delem right about now, the tiefling thought to himself.  On the narrow bridge, the ogres would have no room to dodge their sorcerer’s fiery blasts.  They would just have to make do with what they had, Benzan thought, angrily pushing the thought aside as he drew and fired again.  The arrow slammed into the throat of an already-wounded ogre, staggering it.  The ogre’s momentum carried it forward, but it lost its footing and plummeted over the edge into the open air beyond.  In an instant it had vanished from sight.  Twenty-eight left to go.The lead ogre had reached the mid-point of the bridge, and as it and its fellows drew nearer the defenders’ shots finally began to take some effect.  A second ogre went down, its chest riddled with arrows, and as the one behind it stepped over the body it too fell, an arrow from Lok’s mighty bow stuck through its eye.  The others came on without hesitation, however, leaping over the bodies of their fallen comrades without concern.  Cal reached the top of the ramp, and he moved quickly to the side to where he could get a vantage over the approaches below.  His own magic had been of no use in the battle with the demon, but now he had a few surprises left for the ogres who would soon be on their position.  Benzan and Jerral reached the top of the cleft as well, continuing their barrage upon the charging ogres.  Lok, bringing up the rear, turned and stood blocking the last few steps to the top of the ramp, holding the gap even as he continued to fire arrows down at the attacking horde.  Then a trio of glowing blue bolts streaked across the gap and slammed into the genasi, each successive impact driving Lok just a little bit back.  Lok grunted in pain, but took the hits, and he did not retreat from his position as he tossed his bow aside and unslung his axe and shield.“There, in the rocks,” Jerral said.“I see him,” Benzan muttered darkly.  He’d already marked the position where the enemy sorcerer had hidden, given him a clear line of fire of the battlefield for his spells while leaving him well protected against the archery of the defenders.  Benzan took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the charge of the ogres as they swept up toward the ramp.  They would be on them in moments, now, but he had to trust his allies to keep the rush at bay, at least for a few moments.  That sorcerer was Benzan’s target, and he knew that he had to neutralize the threat before his magic could pick them apart.The tiefling sank into his own magic, calling upon a simple spell.  His talents were little more than those of an apprentice, but he’d learned how to integrate them into his own considerable skills.  He felt the noise of the battlefield fall away, and saw his target—only his target—as he spoke the words of the spell.  And then, as it had before, he saw the ogre leap into clear focus, Soroth’s face framed in a crack between two boulders, seemingly close enough to reach out and touch.  But before he could fire, the ogre pointed again, and another bolt of liquid electricity arced toward them.  Lok hefted his shield and axe, waiting for the first ogre to make it up the ramp.  The ogres were ignoring missile fire this time, going for an all-out charge.  One ogre made it halfway up the slope before stumbling, a half-dozen arrows stuck in its hide shirt and limbs.  It tried to get up again but never made it, as another pair of arrows shot down and stuck in its neck and shoulder.  The ogre fell and rolled down the slope, knocking one of its comrades sprawling.  The others, however, came on.</blockquote>

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