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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
- Thread starter spyscribe
- Start date
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Seventy-Fourth
In which: Reyu shocks the Sovereign peasantry, and Anvil is not pleased to be proved correct.
Reyu steps forward. “The question is: what can we do for you?”
“For… for us?”
“Do you have injured?”
The peasant stands, blinking. “A few, Lady… But they can still work,” he hastens to add. Then, “We have… lost three. They froze in the last blizzard—” he steadfastly refuses to meet Reyu’s eyes, “If you would like to lodge here, we will return to our huts—”
“No, that’s fine,” Eva says hurridly. The rest of the party nods in agreement. “We can sleep in the toolshed.”
The peasant is bowed so low he’s nearly bent double. “As you wish.”
Anvil nods sharply. “Good. Now, show us your wounded.”
*********
Much to the amazement of the peasants, Anvil and Reyu heal the injured villagers, and then Reyu proceeds to wood shape the door so that it actually fits snugly into it’s jamb. It’s not much, but at least the building has some small chance of holding heat.
A survey of the mud huts finds an older man and two children huddled together, frozen.
Thatch looks over the villagers. He notices that almost none of them appear to be over 35. There are children, but the bulk of the workers don’t seem much older than he is. He shudders; this isn’t a place that allows many to grow old.
The party sets up camp in the tool shed. They sit their usual watches, and sometime just before midnight, another of the mysterious blizzards hits. Since protecting the tools seems to be a higher priority than protecting his serfs for Lord Fau Meen, they pass the night in relative comfort.
************
The next day the party sets out again, traveling through progressively deeper and deeper snow, but no flash blizzards. Around mid-day, Lord Fau Meen’s manor house finally comes into view.
The party is met by a nervous servant who takes their horses and bring ill news. Lord Agasha has not yet arrived with his men-at-arms to accompany the party.
“Send a runner to see what has detained them then,” says Hiru.
The man shakes his head. “Sir, with respect, you must make that demand of Lord Fau Meen himself.”
“Why has he not already done so?” Anvil wants to know.
“It is not my place to say.”
###
The party is quickly escorted into Lord Fau Meen’s reception hall. Fau Meen is there, sitting on an ornately carved wooden throne, surrounded by two administrators and a knight. Off to one side, a peasant huddles against the wall. He seems completely preoccupied with making himself as invisible as possible.
Seeing the party, Lord Fau Meen grimaces. “Well, it took you long enough.”
Hiru gives a token bow. “We were caught in several blizzards on the way. My father was expected several days ago. Why has no one been sent after him?”
“Because,” Fau Meen replies, “there are no runners to spare.” He allows the implications of this to sink in. “In the past week four of my villages have been attacked. Not to mention this plague of infernal blizzards, which are no doubt responsible for your father’s delay as they were for your own.”
Anvil addresses Fau Meen directly. “What are these storms? Is it in the nature of your lands to have such changeable weather?”
Fau Meen scowls. “No, it is not. Neither is it natural for my settlements to be attacked by goblin raiding parties. Something has emboldened them.”
“The ogre?” Thatch suggests.
Fau Meen indicates the peasant by the wall. “He is a survivor of the latest attack. Tell them what has transpired.”
The peasant comes forward. Although he bows nearly to the floor, when he speaks, he is calm and deliberate. “Our village was struck in the middle of the night. The goblins came, some of them riding bests, like huge wolves.” (Eva blanches a bit at this.)
“Did you see an ogre with them?” Anvil asks.
“No, Honored Justicar.”
Lord Fau Meen waves the man off, who returns to his place by the wall. “What he did see was the kidnapping of three clerics.”
“What need has a peasant village of three clerics?” Anvil asks.
“None. But the priest who had been stationed there was… growing feeble. He was taken, as well as his successor, and the Father who was there to conduct the rites of installation.”
“You said other villages had been attacked, have their chaplains been taken?” Lira asks.
Lord Fau Meen nods. “Yes. Although so have two laborers and the daughter of one of the priests.”
Anvil strokes his beard. An unpleasant theory has begun to grow in his relentlessly logical mind. Three abductions two nights ago. Three blizzards the following day. If this is not a coincidence, the implications are… disturbing.
“Lord Fau Meen,” he breaks in. “When were these clerics taken, and when have the blizzards occurred?”
“You believe there is a… connection?” Reyu asks.
“I hope there is not.”
Lord Fau Meen summons a clerk who brings forth the records of the latest goblin attacks.
Anvil scowls. “So in all cases, two days after a number of clerics are kidnapped, an equal number of blizzards occur.”
“Which means there shouldn’t be any blizzards today,” Eva reasons.
Reyu nods. “But,” she points out, “the pattern also… suggests… that the goblins will make their next raid tomorrow night.”
There is only one village on the border of Lord Fau Meen’s lands that has not yet been attacked by goblins. It is two full day’s ride away, and the sun is already slipping low in the sky.
Anvil is undaunted. “We must be there to defend it.”
“I would be in your debt,” Lord Fau Meen replies. “Unfortunately, the force which I would have sent to accompany you in your battle against the ogre has been necessarily depleted, as my men are needed to defend these lands. I can spare only five men-at-arms. And,” he adds, “Agasha has not yet arrived.”
“We have no time to wait for him,” Anvil decides. “When Lord Agasha comes here, tell him where we have gone. We will wait for him at the village.”
And so, only a few hours after arriving at Fau Meen’s estate, the party sets out again. Although Hiru stays behind to wait for his father, Lord Fau Meen’s men are able to depart immediately. The group presses on as far as they can before making camp for the night.
They ride hard the following day, but do not arrive at the village until several hours after sunset.
In which: Reyu shocks the Sovereign peasantry, and Anvil is not pleased to be proved correct.
Reyu steps forward. “The question is: what can we do for you?”
“For… for us?”
“Do you have injured?”
The peasant stands, blinking. “A few, Lady… But they can still work,” he hastens to add. Then, “We have… lost three. They froze in the last blizzard—” he steadfastly refuses to meet Reyu’s eyes, “If you would like to lodge here, we will return to our huts—”
“No, that’s fine,” Eva says hurridly. The rest of the party nods in agreement. “We can sleep in the toolshed.”
The peasant is bowed so low he’s nearly bent double. “As you wish.”
Anvil nods sharply. “Good. Now, show us your wounded.”
*********
Much to the amazement of the peasants, Anvil and Reyu heal the injured villagers, and then Reyu proceeds to wood shape the door so that it actually fits snugly into it’s jamb. It’s not much, but at least the building has some small chance of holding heat.
A survey of the mud huts finds an older man and two children huddled together, frozen.
Thatch looks over the villagers. He notices that almost none of them appear to be over 35. There are children, but the bulk of the workers don’t seem much older than he is. He shudders; this isn’t a place that allows many to grow old.
The party sets up camp in the tool shed. They sit their usual watches, and sometime just before midnight, another of the mysterious blizzards hits. Since protecting the tools seems to be a higher priority than protecting his serfs for Lord Fau Meen, they pass the night in relative comfort.
************
The next day the party sets out again, traveling through progressively deeper and deeper snow, but no flash blizzards. Around mid-day, Lord Fau Meen’s manor house finally comes into view.
The party is met by a nervous servant who takes their horses and bring ill news. Lord Agasha has not yet arrived with his men-at-arms to accompany the party.
“Send a runner to see what has detained them then,” says Hiru.
The man shakes his head. “Sir, with respect, you must make that demand of Lord Fau Meen himself.”
“Why has he not already done so?” Anvil wants to know.
“It is not my place to say.”
###
The party is quickly escorted into Lord Fau Meen’s reception hall. Fau Meen is there, sitting on an ornately carved wooden throne, surrounded by two administrators and a knight. Off to one side, a peasant huddles against the wall. He seems completely preoccupied with making himself as invisible as possible.
Seeing the party, Lord Fau Meen grimaces. “Well, it took you long enough.”
Hiru gives a token bow. “We were caught in several blizzards on the way. My father was expected several days ago. Why has no one been sent after him?”
“Because,” Fau Meen replies, “there are no runners to spare.” He allows the implications of this to sink in. “In the past week four of my villages have been attacked. Not to mention this plague of infernal blizzards, which are no doubt responsible for your father’s delay as they were for your own.”
Anvil addresses Fau Meen directly. “What are these storms? Is it in the nature of your lands to have such changeable weather?”
Fau Meen scowls. “No, it is not. Neither is it natural for my settlements to be attacked by goblin raiding parties. Something has emboldened them.”
“The ogre?” Thatch suggests.
Fau Meen indicates the peasant by the wall. “He is a survivor of the latest attack. Tell them what has transpired.”
The peasant comes forward. Although he bows nearly to the floor, when he speaks, he is calm and deliberate. “Our village was struck in the middle of the night. The goblins came, some of them riding bests, like huge wolves.” (Eva blanches a bit at this.)
“Did you see an ogre with them?” Anvil asks.
“No, Honored Justicar.”
Lord Fau Meen waves the man off, who returns to his place by the wall. “What he did see was the kidnapping of three clerics.”
“What need has a peasant village of three clerics?” Anvil asks.
“None. But the priest who had been stationed there was… growing feeble. He was taken, as well as his successor, and the Father who was there to conduct the rites of installation.”
“You said other villages had been attacked, have their chaplains been taken?” Lira asks.
Lord Fau Meen nods. “Yes. Although so have two laborers and the daughter of one of the priests.”
Anvil strokes his beard. An unpleasant theory has begun to grow in his relentlessly logical mind. Three abductions two nights ago. Three blizzards the following day. If this is not a coincidence, the implications are… disturbing.
“Lord Fau Meen,” he breaks in. “When were these clerics taken, and when have the blizzards occurred?”
“You believe there is a… connection?” Reyu asks.
“I hope there is not.”
Lord Fau Meen summons a clerk who brings forth the records of the latest goblin attacks.
Anvil scowls. “So in all cases, two days after a number of clerics are kidnapped, an equal number of blizzards occur.”
“Which means there shouldn’t be any blizzards today,” Eva reasons.
Reyu nods. “But,” she points out, “the pattern also… suggests… that the goblins will make their next raid tomorrow night.”
There is only one village on the border of Lord Fau Meen’s lands that has not yet been attacked by goblins. It is two full day’s ride away, and the sun is already slipping low in the sky.
Anvil is undaunted. “We must be there to defend it.”
“I would be in your debt,” Lord Fau Meen replies. “Unfortunately, the force which I would have sent to accompany you in your battle against the ogre has been necessarily depleted, as my men are needed to defend these lands. I can spare only five men-at-arms. And,” he adds, “Agasha has not yet arrived.”
“We have no time to wait for him,” Anvil decides. “When Lord Agasha comes here, tell him where we have gone. We will wait for him at the village.”
And so, only a few hours after arriving at Fau Meen’s estate, the party sets out again. Although Hiru stays behind to wait for his father, Lord Fau Meen’s men are able to depart immediately. The group presses on as far as they can before making camp for the night.
They ride hard the following day, but do not arrive at the village until several hours after sunset.
Last edited:
spyscribe
First Post
Dakkareth said:After spending two afternoons reading through this SH I figure it's only fair to show up and tell you, that I enjoyed it. Hell, Anvil made me laugh out loud several times (attracting unwanted attention)
Hey Dakkereth, thanks for dropping in to read and to post. You too LostSoul!
And Termere, it was great to have you. Too bad you couldn't come back for the conclusion of the big >mumble mumble<...
spyscribe
First Post
Bumper Weekend Update!
Part the Seventy-Fifth
In which: the party prepares defenses, and Eva finds a mystery.
The strangers arrive in the village after dark has already fallen. Five of them wear the livery of Lord Fau Meen, but the others are foreigners. Once they dismount, the one who wears the symbol like that of a Justicar calls for everyone to gather in the center of the village. Mikaro has lived in the village his entire life, and never have so many strangers come at once. He hurries to see what is happening.
“The goblins are coming to attack your village,” Anvil announces, “you must join with us to defend it.”
The village chaplain comes forward, “Justicar, we have no means of defending ourselves. We are not warriors. We have no weapons.”
“You have your tools,” he replies.
A low murmur of disbelief greets Anvil’s words. Some of the assembled villagers gasp.
One of Lord Fau Meen’s men clears his throat, and the peasants fall silent. “That would not be acceptable, Justicar.”
“Why not?” Anvil demands.
“The tools are not for fighting. If they were to be damaged, the peasants would not be able to tend to their crops.”
“If they’re all dead, it’s going to be really hard to tend to their crops,” Lira points out.
The guardsman gives a small shrug.
Reyu speaks very slowly and clearly, to make sure she will not be misunderstood. “Are you saying that the tools are more valuable to Lord Fau Meen than the people who wield them?”
The guard’s expression is completely neutral as he replies, “Yes.”
It’s hard to decide which is more disturbing, the fact that the guard comes out and says such a thing, or that the peasants are utterly unsurprised to hear it. The party soon realizes that despite the logic of their arguments, they are not going to be able to convince these people to take up their master’s tools to defend their lives.
“Fine,” says Anvil, “we will find other ways to ward off your enemies.”
Anvil sets to work organizing several groups of villagers setting up snow-earthworks around the village. With the ground frozen, they cannot build actual earthen walls, but there is abundant snow to pile, and once it has been packed and smoothed, it freezes quite hard in the cold of the night.
Thatch is sorely missing his pitcher, but works with another group of peasants hauling water from their well and pouring it on the ground to create strategically-placed ice-slicks, just where the goblins will be headed, assuming that Anvil’s snow-walls hold.
Meanwhile, Reyu and Benedic teach some of the villagers how to cut makeshift spears from tree limbs, sharpening one end into a vicious point. The finished weapons are rather crude, but it is still a better option than asking the peasants to pummel the attacking goblins with their fists.
Eva, piling snow, notices Kiara sneaking into the tool shed. Suspecting that the girl might have taken it upon herself to “liberate” the tools for defensive purposes, Eva follows her. When several minutes pass without Kiara emerging, Eva enters the shed.
Kiara is not there.
Eva checks for tracks.
Kiara did not leave the shed.
###
Eva finds Annika hauling water for ice-slicks. “Er… I think Kiara’s gone missing.”
Annika blinks. “No. She’s fine. She just went out scouting to see if there are any signs of goblins nearby.”
“No,” says Eva. “I saw her go into the tool shed, but when I followed her she wasn’t there.”
“She probably snuck out.”
“She didn’t leave any tracks. I mean, she couldn’t have flown off, right?” As Eva finishes the sentence, she notices that Annika flushes a bit. It’s hard to tell because the wizard is suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing.
When she gets her breath back, Annika laughs weakly. “No… of course not.”
“Right.”
Eva goes to find Lira.
###
Eva finds her helping to pile snow in one of two semi-circular mounds around the village. She pulls her aside where they won’t be overheard.
“Could someone like you make someone fly?”
Lira considers. “Sure, there’s a spell… it’s called fly, but I can’t cast it.”
“Could Annika?”
Lira frowns. “I don’t think so, not unless she’s more powerful than she’s let on. Why?”
Eva catches her up on the mysterious disappearing Kiara. “… And I was just kind of joking and said, ‘well, she couldn’t have flown off?’ and that’s when Annika looked kind of funny. She tried to laugh it off, but…”
Lira knits her brows. “Let me take a look.”
Lira follows Eva back to the shed where she casts detect magic. Nothing.
“We should talk to the others.”
Lira and Eva find Annika and the rest of the party gathered at the center of the village. Eva begins. “Has anyone seen—“
Annika suddenly looks towards the forest and points. “They’re coming.”
“How could you tell that?!?” Eva demands in a loud whisper.
Anvil motions for silence. “Everyone, get to your positions.”
###
The goblins come streaming out of the darkness, shrieking as they come. Two are mounted on giant worgs, wolf-like creatures with red eyes and snapping jaws. Adding to the confusion and cacophony, two horses lead the charge, hooves echoing on the packed snow.
This is an experienced raiding party. They know the lay-out of the village. They know where to find their quarry. They know how to quickly create abject terror in the weak-minded humans who have invaded their lands. And they brandish the torches they carry to burn the humans’ wretched homes to the ground.
They are in for quite a surprise.
Anvil’s snow earthworks do their job, and the goblins are funneled into the center of the village via only two routes, both of which put their lines in perfect position for the party members and Lord Fau Meen’s men to divide and exterminate them.
It also means the attackers are running right by the positions where the villagers have gathered in two clusters, ready to defend their homes. As the shrieking invaders charge forward, every single villager stands their ground.
And within inches of the peasants’ position, the first wave of goblins hits Thatch’s ice-slicks and falls flat on their faces. The peasants descend on them.
Thatch and Anvil wade into the center of the goblin swarm, swinging their swords with deadly accuracy. Thatch finds that he can almost always dispatch two of the creatures with a single stroke, and allows himself a grim smile of satisfaction. This is what he is really good at.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees two villagers who have managed to get a goblin between them, and are beating it senseless with the butt ends of their spears.
That’s not bad, Thatch thinks.
The spellcasters and archers have taken the high ground and have concentrated their fire on the two worg-mounted goblins, or—as it quickly becomes apparent that the worgs are a much greater threat than their riders—the mounts themselves.
From her vantage point, Eva draws a bead on one of the goblins as it runs out of the woods, waiting for it to come into optimal range. Then, just as she is about to cut it down it its tracks, the goblin stumbles and falls face-forward into the snow. The arrow that felled it still quivers… in its back.
Eva does not allow herself to dwell on what she has just seen. Instead, she finds a new target and promptly puts an arrow through the goblin’s squinting little eye. But still, a little voice in her head nags at her. That goblin was shot from behind. There’s someone in the woods, helping us. But the only person it could be is Kiara. How the hells did she wind up back there?
Magic missiles zing through the air. Reyu summons a badger and sets it on one of the worgs, but the animal is unable to sink its teeth into its prey. Then, she sees one of the peasants she worked with earlier in the day.
Mikaru remembers the words of the elf: “Do not attempt to throw them,” she said. “They are not well-balanced, and are difficult to aim. Wait until the goblins are close and then use the spear to stab. That way, if you miss, you are still armed. If you hit, pull the spear back out and do it again.”
There, in the midst of the pitched battle, silhouetted in the flickering light of the goblin torches, Mikaru lifts his spear, and with a great shout, stabs downwards, right into one of the worgs’ hairy flank. Then, he pulls the spear out and does it again. And again. The worg howls in pain, but he takes no notice, yelling and stabbing at the animal as if he were possessed.
The worg snaps futilely, but, buoyed by their comrade’s bravery, the other villagers jab at its face. None of them actually wound the creature, but they are able to keep it from harming any of them either.
Watching in amazement, Lira sends a pair of magic missiles into the fray, but they are merely a footnote to the villagers’ melee efforts. A blow to the chest fells the worg, but the peasant keeps stabbing at the corpse until one of his companions finally pulls him away.
The goblins, clearly expecting to raze the village as easily as they had the previous four, are quickly thrown into confusion. Less than a minute after the raid began, only a half-dozen are still standing. Those that are able throw their torches to the ground and take off, back into the woods. Thatch, Reyu, Annika and Lord Fau Meen’s men all pursue. They do not intend to leave any survivors.
Part the Seventy-Fifth
In which: the party prepares defenses, and Eva finds a mystery.
The strangers arrive in the village after dark has already fallen. Five of them wear the livery of Lord Fau Meen, but the others are foreigners. Once they dismount, the one who wears the symbol like that of a Justicar calls for everyone to gather in the center of the village. Mikaro has lived in the village his entire life, and never have so many strangers come at once. He hurries to see what is happening.
“The goblins are coming to attack your village,” Anvil announces, “you must join with us to defend it.”
The village chaplain comes forward, “Justicar, we have no means of defending ourselves. We are not warriors. We have no weapons.”
“You have your tools,” he replies.
A low murmur of disbelief greets Anvil’s words. Some of the assembled villagers gasp.
One of Lord Fau Meen’s men clears his throat, and the peasants fall silent. “That would not be acceptable, Justicar.”
“Why not?” Anvil demands.
“The tools are not for fighting. If they were to be damaged, the peasants would not be able to tend to their crops.”
“If they’re all dead, it’s going to be really hard to tend to their crops,” Lira points out.
The guardsman gives a small shrug.
Reyu speaks very slowly and clearly, to make sure she will not be misunderstood. “Are you saying that the tools are more valuable to Lord Fau Meen than the people who wield them?”
The guard’s expression is completely neutral as he replies, “Yes.”
It’s hard to decide which is more disturbing, the fact that the guard comes out and says such a thing, or that the peasants are utterly unsurprised to hear it. The party soon realizes that despite the logic of their arguments, they are not going to be able to convince these people to take up their master’s tools to defend their lives.
“Fine,” says Anvil, “we will find other ways to ward off your enemies.”
Anvil sets to work organizing several groups of villagers setting up snow-earthworks around the village. With the ground frozen, they cannot build actual earthen walls, but there is abundant snow to pile, and once it has been packed and smoothed, it freezes quite hard in the cold of the night.
Thatch is sorely missing his pitcher, but works with another group of peasants hauling water from their well and pouring it on the ground to create strategically-placed ice-slicks, just where the goblins will be headed, assuming that Anvil’s snow-walls hold.
Meanwhile, Reyu and Benedic teach some of the villagers how to cut makeshift spears from tree limbs, sharpening one end into a vicious point. The finished weapons are rather crude, but it is still a better option than asking the peasants to pummel the attacking goblins with their fists.
Eva, piling snow, notices Kiara sneaking into the tool shed. Suspecting that the girl might have taken it upon herself to “liberate” the tools for defensive purposes, Eva follows her. When several minutes pass without Kiara emerging, Eva enters the shed.
Kiara is not there.
Eva checks for tracks.
Kiara did not leave the shed.
###
Eva finds Annika hauling water for ice-slicks. “Er… I think Kiara’s gone missing.”
Annika blinks. “No. She’s fine. She just went out scouting to see if there are any signs of goblins nearby.”
“No,” says Eva. “I saw her go into the tool shed, but when I followed her she wasn’t there.”
“She probably snuck out.”
“She didn’t leave any tracks. I mean, she couldn’t have flown off, right?” As Eva finishes the sentence, she notices that Annika flushes a bit. It’s hard to tell because the wizard is suddenly overcome by a fit of coughing.
When she gets her breath back, Annika laughs weakly. “No… of course not.”
“Right.”
Eva goes to find Lira.
###
Eva finds her helping to pile snow in one of two semi-circular mounds around the village. She pulls her aside where they won’t be overheard.
“Could someone like you make someone fly?”
Lira considers. “Sure, there’s a spell… it’s called fly, but I can’t cast it.”
“Could Annika?”
Lira frowns. “I don’t think so, not unless she’s more powerful than she’s let on. Why?”
Eva catches her up on the mysterious disappearing Kiara. “… And I was just kind of joking and said, ‘well, she couldn’t have flown off?’ and that’s when Annika looked kind of funny. She tried to laugh it off, but…”
Lira knits her brows. “Let me take a look.”
Lira follows Eva back to the shed where she casts detect magic. Nothing.
“We should talk to the others.”
Lira and Eva find Annika and the rest of the party gathered at the center of the village. Eva begins. “Has anyone seen—“
Annika suddenly looks towards the forest and points. “They’re coming.”
“How could you tell that?!?” Eva demands in a loud whisper.
Anvil motions for silence. “Everyone, get to your positions.”
###
The goblins come streaming out of the darkness, shrieking as they come. Two are mounted on giant worgs, wolf-like creatures with red eyes and snapping jaws. Adding to the confusion and cacophony, two horses lead the charge, hooves echoing on the packed snow.
This is an experienced raiding party. They know the lay-out of the village. They know where to find their quarry. They know how to quickly create abject terror in the weak-minded humans who have invaded their lands. And they brandish the torches they carry to burn the humans’ wretched homes to the ground.
They are in for quite a surprise.
Anvil’s snow earthworks do their job, and the goblins are funneled into the center of the village via only two routes, both of which put their lines in perfect position for the party members and Lord Fau Meen’s men to divide and exterminate them.
It also means the attackers are running right by the positions where the villagers have gathered in two clusters, ready to defend their homes. As the shrieking invaders charge forward, every single villager stands their ground.
And within inches of the peasants’ position, the first wave of goblins hits Thatch’s ice-slicks and falls flat on their faces. The peasants descend on them.
Thatch and Anvil wade into the center of the goblin swarm, swinging their swords with deadly accuracy. Thatch finds that he can almost always dispatch two of the creatures with a single stroke, and allows himself a grim smile of satisfaction. This is what he is really good at.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees two villagers who have managed to get a goblin between them, and are beating it senseless with the butt ends of their spears.
That’s not bad, Thatch thinks.
The spellcasters and archers have taken the high ground and have concentrated their fire on the two worg-mounted goblins, or—as it quickly becomes apparent that the worgs are a much greater threat than their riders—the mounts themselves.
From her vantage point, Eva draws a bead on one of the goblins as it runs out of the woods, waiting for it to come into optimal range. Then, just as she is about to cut it down it its tracks, the goblin stumbles and falls face-forward into the snow. The arrow that felled it still quivers… in its back.
Eva does not allow herself to dwell on what she has just seen. Instead, she finds a new target and promptly puts an arrow through the goblin’s squinting little eye. But still, a little voice in her head nags at her. That goblin was shot from behind. There’s someone in the woods, helping us. But the only person it could be is Kiara. How the hells did she wind up back there?
Magic missiles zing through the air. Reyu summons a badger and sets it on one of the worgs, but the animal is unable to sink its teeth into its prey. Then, she sees one of the peasants she worked with earlier in the day.
Mikaru remembers the words of the elf: “Do not attempt to throw them,” she said. “They are not well-balanced, and are difficult to aim. Wait until the goblins are close and then use the spear to stab. That way, if you miss, you are still armed. If you hit, pull the spear back out and do it again.”
There, in the midst of the pitched battle, silhouetted in the flickering light of the goblin torches, Mikaru lifts his spear, and with a great shout, stabs downwards, right into one of the worgs’ hairy flank. Then, he pulls the spear out and does it again. And again. The worg howls in pain, but he takes no notice, yelling and stabbing at the animal as if he were possessed.
The worg snaps futilely, but, buoyed by their comrade’s bravery, the other villagers jab at its face. None of them actually wound the creature, but they are able to keep it from harming any of them either.
Watching in amazement, Lira sends a pair of magic missiles into the fray, but they are merely a footnote to the villagers’ melee efforts. A blow to the chest fells the worg, but the peasant keeps stabbing at the corpse until one of his companions finally pulls him away.
The goblins, clearly expecting to raze the village as easily as they had the previous four, are quickly thrown into confusion. Less than a minute after the raid began, only a half-dozen are still standing. Those that are able throw their torches to the ground and take off, back into the woods. Thatch, Reyu, Annika and Lord Fau Meen’s men all pursue. They do not intend to leave any survivors.
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