Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
This is the journal of Zerubbabel Jangle, thief and devotee of Garl Glittergold. (I hope to strike a balance in my soul between larceny and liturgy, and so escape at least the worst punishments which surely await me when I die.)
It is fall at Fort Brighton in the eastern marches of Ulek near the wild, evil lands of the Pomarj. The war is more or less over, but the folks of the Wild Coast have not fared well. Their free cities are no longer free, but now languish under the iron fists of orcish warlords. Or so we've heard.
Our mercenary contract at Fort Brighton is almost ready to expire. We've been in the employ of the garrison captain for some time now, doing reconaissance and guard duty. Nothing too exciting or too dangerous so far. I guess I should explain who we are. There is my twin brother, Mupp, who is a bard. The muscle of our merry little band is the dark-skinned human foreigner called Ebon, who is a monk. Ebon speaks little, and understanding his language of signs and gestures is an amusing challenge. Our most powerful companion is the elderly human woman Shadra, who is a psion.
Today we must go to two frontier farmsteads and evacuate the free farmers there. Orcish incursions are increasing, and these folks cannot defend themselves. Down the main road we travel heading east. I ride my trusty donkey. I call her My Ass because of the comic potential. I sit on My Ass. My Ass is sturdy or hairy. And so on. We have a small wagon drawn by a couple of draft horses, all supplied by the garrison. Shadra and Mupp ride in the wagon. Ebon, who is fleet of foot, usually walks.
Our trip is uneventful all the way to the first farm. There we helped Farmer Carrey and his family load the last of their belongings into the cart. Carrey insists on bringing his herd of cows, about 40 head all together. I can't say I blame him. It's bad enough he's having to leave his homestead, but to also lose his livestock? Of course, none of us four known anything useful about cows, but Carrey ensures us that he and his sons can keep the herd moving and together. Farmer Jonas's homestead is several miles farther north. We make it there a few hours before night's fall, and help him get the last of his good loaded. We've a regular caravan now. There is some dispute between Carrey and Jonas about the cows, but both farmers stifled that noise when I told them we were taking the cattle, and if Jonas didn't like it, he could escort his family to Fort Brighton on his own.
We spent the night at the Jonas farm, and headed out at first light. We weren't back on the southern road too long before we rendezvoused with Captain Demetrius and his guard. The Captain was escorting another farm family from farther north. We formed up the entire group, and moved on, hoping that our good fortune would continue.
Unfortunately, Garl likes for gnomes to test their luck in situations more stressful than a wagon ride. A band of orcs found us a few hours after sunrise. There were about fifteen of the creatures, all mounted on wolves, and then came charging toward our rear flank, panicking the cattle. As they spread out to hit our left flank, we opened fire. I dropped one orc with a couple of well-placed sling bullets. The others did some damage as well with their crossbows, but then the orcs were on us. The vile monsters went for our animals first, hoping to cripple us.
Ebon and I jumped into the fray. Ebon raced to the rear to defend Jonas's family. I moved toward the front of the column, and called Garl's bane down on several of the attackers. I then drew my rapier and moved to flank one of the wolf-mounted orcs in melee with one of the Captain's men. The orc proved easy enough to dispatch, but the wolf was another story. I suffered serious injuries before it too was dead.
All told, we killed or routed the orcs with no casualties except for two horses. I called upon Garl's healing, but my faith is not that strong. Perhaps more time spent in prayer rather than in the gambling room is in order? I am also a passable field medic. We moved the injured to one wagon. Shadra acted as nurse, and I ministered the wounded as best as a I could. I was especially concerned for one of Jonas's lads who caught a crossbow bolt, but his wounds proved less grevious than I feared. The boy lives thanks to me.
We moved on an hour after sunset before we circled the wagons to form a corral for the cattle. Our fears were soon realized. The orcs had indeed trailed us, and this time a larger force was on hand. Ebon spotted two different groups of orcs, all wolf-riders. One group began to harrass with crossbow fire, probably intending to draw us out so that the second group, supposedly unseen, could hit the caravan without its guards. We suffered the crossbow fire as best we could while Ebon and Shadra slowly closed on the orcish missileers. I gave Ebon my last sunrod so that he could light up their position once the fight began. Meanwhile, the Captain readied his men while Mupp and I made plans to disrupt the other group's charge.
Ebon apparently managed to get nearly the crossbow group's midst before the lit the sunrod. Shadra burst a few of the orcs into flames. The other group began its charge quicker than we had expected. The stampede Mupp and I started missed its mark, but did manage to slow the charging orcs down just a bit. This gave Shadra time to climb a tree. Ebon, who is quite fast on his feet, broke ranks and started leading the wolves back toward Mupp and me. All the while, they nipped at his heels, and Ebon was sorely injured by the time he reached the circle. Meanwhile Shadra kept using her psionic powers to destroy orcs. Mupp and I took up defensive positions on a wagon and used crossbows, but I must confess I could not get the hang of such a large, heavy weapon. Most of my shots missed their marks.
By this time, most of the orcs were trying to get Shadra out of the tree, and most of the wolves were attacking us in camp. I'd have rather been in the tree. Mupp leaned too far out to take a shot, and a wolf caught his throat. I managed to pull Mupp back into the wagon, but his wound was mortal. I left the fighting to two of the guardsmen and stopped Mupp's bleeding, applying both bandage and a minor divine magic to the cause. He regained consciousness, but was still weak and unsteady.
Desperate times calling for what they do, I dropped a tanglefoot bag on one wolf, gluing into handily into place. I caught another with alchemist's fire, but not before one of the guardsmen had been killed. Slowly, between our crossbows and Shadra's psionics, the tide of battle turned. Another guardsman was felled by a wolf, and so I abandoned the safety of the wagon. The few other wolves were too occupied to stop me from attending to the man's wounds in time to save his life. For the third time that day, I was a hero. Surely Garl will credit me these good actions. The fight came to an end when the last few orcs and two wolves fled not to return. We had lost one man. Mupp, Ebon, and another guardsman were all sorely injured. Shadra had suffered a minor wound. Amazingly, I was unharmed. Praise be to Garl for that!
We made it the rest of the way back to Fort Brighton without incident. Between mundane and magical care, all of our wounds were healed by then. Back at the fort, the garrison captain paid us our week's salary. We rested for a couple of days before heading back out, this time without farmers and cattle in tow. We ventured eastward into the foothills of the Drachensgrab Mountains, trying to gather intelligence about orcish troop movements. We weren't too far on the other side of the river when we heard a company of orcs passing by. Ebon checked them out, and estimated their numbers to be at least one-hundred-twenty. Certainly more than we cared to attack!
So we followed them southwest toward the Ulekite coast where they set up camp on the south side of the river. By this time, we were on the river's opposite bank. A few ogres joined the company later than day. Ebon made haste to the nearest fort to report in, but the captain there, a cowardly man, took no actions to defend his charge. Apparently he thought two gnomes, a foreigner, and an old woman would do that for him. Thank Garl that the orcs didn't think to use skirmishers to patrol their flanks, or we would surely have been caught tailing them. The beasts are too confident, no doubt in some part due to Ulek's timidity.
The evening Ebon returned, the orcs tried to send a force across the river in several boats. Shadra's psionics ruptured the boats and broke orcish bones. We caught a few crossbow bolts, but the orcs were firing blind. Shadra sank four boats, and not one orc on any of those vessels made it back to shore alive. During the night, the orcs broke camp. They'd lost at least a tenth of their number, and must have reckoned us more powerful than we really are. As the orcs headed back toward the Pomarj, we followed about a half day behind them. Tracking such a large group was child's play even for us, but hiring a ranger for our merry band is something we need to do.
We tracked the orcish company back to what must have been some sort of staging area. There were hundreds of orcs in the ravines of those foothills, including orcish women and children. Perhaps a baggage train for an army? We lit out of the foothills back to Fort Brighton and made our report but, again, I doubt anything will be done. These Ulekites seem content to simply sit and wait until the orcs have gathered enough strength for an assault. The fools!
For our next mission, we set out northeastward, on the eastern edge of the Suss Forest. That place has a vile reputation, and I greatly feared encountering some of the giant spiders said to hunt there. Fortunately, our one encounter so far was considerably less dramatic and easily handled. We apparently wandered into forbidden territory, as we were ambushed by a half dozen creatures I believe were lizard folk. After dropping three of their number, I negotiated a cease to the fight, for I speak their language. The leader of the lizard folk told us we were trespassing, and demanded a toll of twenty gold pieces. We tricked him into accepting one-hundred silver instead, an act that Garl is bound to bless us for. Obviously, the creature confused volume with value.
We are almost out of the Suss now. From here we move into the Wild Coast, trying to determine orcish movements around the conquered city of Highport. It is indeed dangerous territory, especially for Mupp and me. Gnomes are not at all common in the area, and I fear we're likely to be viewed as both enemies and tasty delicacies by the evil humanoids in the region.
It is fall at Fort Brighton in the eastern marches of Ulek near the wild, evil lands of the Pomarj. The war is more or less over, but the folks of the Wild Coast have not fared well. Their free cities are no longer free, but now languish under the iron fists of orcish warlords. Or so we've heard.
Our mercenary contract at Fort Brighton is almost ready to expire. We've been in the employ of the garrison captain for some time now, doing reconaissance and guard duty. Nothing too exciting or too dangerous so far. I guess I should explain who we are. There is my twin brother, Mupp, who is a bard. The muscle of our merry little band is the dark-skinned human foreigner called Ebon, who is a monk. Ebon speaks little, and understanding his language of signs and gestures is an amusing challenge. Our most powerful companion is the elderly human woman Shadra, who is a psion.
Today we must go to two frontier farmsteads and evacuate the free farmers there. Orcish incursions are increasing, and these folks cannot defend themselves. Down the main road we travel heading east. I ride my trusty donkey. I call her My Ass because of the comic potential. I sit on My Ass. My Ass is sturdy or hairy. And so on. We have a small wagon drawn by a couple of draft horses, all supplied by the garrison. Shadra and Mupp ride in the wagon. Ebon, who is fleet of foot, usually walks.
Our trip is uneventful all the way to the first farm. There we helped Farmer Carrey and his family load the last of their belongings into the cart. Carrey insists on bringing his herd of cows, about 40 head all together. I can't say I blame him. It's bad enough he's having to leave his homestead, but to also lose his livestock? Of course, none of us four known anything useful about cows, but Carrey ensures us that he and his sons can keep the herd moving and together. Farmer Jonas's homestead is several miles farther north. We make it there a few hours before night's fall, and help him get the last of his good loaded. We've a regular caravan now. There is some dispute between Carrey and Jonas about the cows, but both farmers stifled that noise when I told them we were taking the cattle, and if Jonas didn't like it, he could escort his family to Fort Brighton on his own.
We spent the night at the Jonas farm, and headed out at first light. We weren't back on the southern road too long before we rendezvoused with Captain Demetrius and his guard. The Captain was escorting another farm family from farther north. We formed up the entire group, and moved on, hoping that our good fortune would continue.
Unfortunately, Garl likes for gnomes to test their luck in situations more stressful than a wagon ride. A band of orcs found us a few hours after sunrise. There were about fifteen of the creatures, all mounted on wolves, and then came charging toward our rear flank, panicking the cattle. As they spread out to hit our left flank, we opened fire. I dropped one orc with a couple of well-placed sling bullets. The others did some damage as well with their crossbows, but then the orcs were on us. The vile monsters went for our animals first, hoping to cripple us.
Ebon and I jumped into the fray. Ebon raced to the rear to defend Jonas's family. I moved toward the front of the column, and called Garl's bane down on several of the attackers. I then drew my rapier and moved to flank one of the wolf-mounted orcs in melee with one of the Captain's men. The orc proved easy enough to dispatch, but the wolf was another story. I suffered serious injuries before it too was dead.
All told, we killed or routed the orcs with no casualties except for two horses. I called upon Garl's healing, but my faith is not that strong. Perhaps more time spent in prayer rather than in the gambling room is in order? I am also a passable field medic. We moved the injured to one wagon. Shadra acted as nurse, and I ministered the wounded as best as a I could. I was especially concerned for one of Jonas's lads who caught a crossbow bolt, but his wounds proved less grevious than I feared. The boy lives thanks to me.
We moved on an hour after sunset before we circled the wagons to form a corral for the cattle. Our fears were soon realized. The orcs had indeed trailed us, and this time a larger force was on hand. Ebon spotted two different groups of orcs, all wolf-riders. One group began to harrass with crossbow fire, probably intending to draw us out so that the second group, supposedly unseen, could hit the caravan without its guards. We suffered the crossbow fire as best we could while Ebon and Shadra slowly closed on the orcish missileers. I gave Ebon my last sunrod so that he could light up their position once the fight began. Meanwhile, the Captain readied his men while Mupp and I made plans to disrupt the other group's charge.
Ebon apparently managed to get nearly the crossbow group's midst before the lit the sunrod. Shadra burst a few of the orcs into flames. The other group began its charge quicker than we had expected. The stampede Mupp and I started missed its mark, but did manage to slow the charging orcs down just a bit. This gave Shadra time to climb a tree. Ebon, who is quite fast on his feet, broke ranks and started leading the wolves back toward Mupp and me. All the while, they nipped at his heels, and Ebon was sorely injured by the time he reached the circle. Meanwhile Shadra kept using her psionic powers to destroy orcs. Mupp and I took up defensive positions on a wagon and used crossbows, but I must confess I could not get the hang of such a large, heavy weapon. Most of my shots missed their marks.
By this time, most of the orcs were trying to get Shadra out of the tree, and most of the wolves were attacking us in camp. I'd have rather been in the tree. Mupp leaned too far out to take a shot, and a wolf caught his throat. I managed to pull Mupp back into the wagon, but his wound was mortal. I left the fighting to two of the guardsmen and stopped Mupp's bleeding, applying both bandage and a minor divine magic to the cause. He regained consciousness, but was still weak and unsteady.
Desperate times calling for what they do, I dropped a tanglefoot bag on one wolf, gluing into handily into place. I caught another with alchemist's fire, but not before one of the guardsmen had been killed. Slowly, between our crossbows and Shadra's psionics, the tide of battle turned. Another guardsman was felled by a wolf, and so I abandoned the safety of the wagon. The few other wolves were too occupied to stop me from attending to the man's wounds in time to save his life. For the third time that day, I was a hero. Surely Garl will credit me these good actions. The fight came to an end when the last few orcs and two wolves fled not to return. We had lost one man. Mupp, Ebon, and another guardsman were all sorely injured. Shadra had suffered a minor wound. Amazingly, I was unharmed. Praise be to Garl for that!
We made it the rest of the way back to Fort Brighton without incident. Between mundane and magical care, all of our wounds were healed by then. Back at the fort, the garrison captain paid us our week's salary. We rested for a couple of days before heading back out, this time without farmers and cattle in tow. We ventured eastward into the foothills of the Drachensgrab Mountains, trying to gather intelligence about orcish troop movements. We weren't too far on the other side of the river when we heard a company of orcs passing by. Ebon checked them out, and estimated their numbers to be at least one-hundred-twenty. Certainly more than we cared to attack!
So we followed them southwest toward the Ulekite coast where they set up camp on the south side of the river. By this time, we were on the river's opposite bank. A few ogres joined the company later than day. Ebon made haste to the nearest fort to report in, but the captain there, a cowardly man, took no actions to defend his charge. Apparently he thought two gnomes, a foreigner, and an old woman would do that for him. Thank Garl that the orcs didn't think to use skirmishers to patrol their flanks, or we would surely have been caught tailing them. The beasts are too confident, no doubt in some part due to Ulek's timidity.
The evening Ebon returned, the orcs tried to send a force across the river in several boats. Shadra's psionics ruptured the boats and broke orcish bones. We caught a few crossbow bolts, but the orcs were firing blind. Shadra sank four boats, and not one orc on any of those vessels made it back to shore alive. During the night, the orcs broke camp. They'd lost at least a tenth of their number, and must have reckoned us more powerful than we really are. As the orcs headed back toward the Pomarj, we followed about a half day behind them. Tracking such a large group was child's play even for us, but hiring a ranger for our merry band is something we need to do.
We tracked the orcish company back to what must have been some sort of staging area. There were hundreds of orcs in the ravines of those foothills, including orcish women and children. Perhaps a baggage train for an army? We lit out of the foothills back to Fort Brighton and made our report but, again, I doubt anything will be done. These Ulekites seem content to simply sit and wait until the orcs have gathered enough strength for an assault. The fools!
For our next mission, we set out northeastward, on the eastern edge of the Suss Forest. That place has a vile reputation, and I greatly feared encountering some of the giant spiders said to hunt there. Fortunately, our one encounter so far was considerably less dramatic and easily handled. We apparently wandered into forbidden territory, as we were ambushed by a half dozen creatures I believe were lizard folk. After dropping three of their number, I negotiated a cease to the fight, for I speak their language. The leader of the lizard folk told us we were trespassing, and demanded a toll of twenty gold pieces. We tricked him into accepting one-hundred silver instead, an act that Garl is bound to bless us for. Obviously, the creature confused volume with value.
We are almost out of the Suss now. From here we move into the Wild Coast, trying to determine orcish movements around the conquered city of Highport. It is indeed dangerous territory, especially for Mupp and me. Gnomes are not at all common in the area, and I fear we're likely to be viewed as both enemies and tasty delicacies by the evil humanoids in the region.
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