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***
The wagon
rattles and creaks as it rolls along the old trade road. Traevus, the dwarf
merchant beside Gorbli Irongear, Technopriest of Clan Ironhelm, guides a team
of mules with a steady hand, more interested in the road ahead than Gorbli’s
attempts at conversation, but that’s part of Marblecrown dwarven nature. Though
the sun is low in the sky, Gorbli knows that he should reach the town of
Fellreach before nightfall. To Gorbli’s
left, the Moonside Hills stretch off southward and the mounts of earth and
ancient ruins reach up toward the darkening sky. The summer air grows cooler
with the night’s approach.
Gorbli strokes
his beard with one hand. The dwarf is a mere fifty two years old, quite young
by the dwarven standards considering they usually live to roughly two
centuries. His extremely muscular body is concealed by his light plate armour.
His hair is already a mix of silver and black while his long dwarven beard is
in a pair of double braids. Gorbli’s quest has floundered every step of way
with no trace of hiding spots of Four Ancient Dwarven Elemental Weapons.
Admittedly he hasn’t found any Dragonkith to ask about the Air weapon, but he
isn’t just about to beg those scaly bags of hot air for information that he is
sure that his fellow dwarves must have knowledge of. With both his own clan Ironhelm
and Clan Bronzebolt lacking such knowledge, Gorbli can only hope that Clan
Marblecrown has the necessary information stored within their realm.
I’ll just have to hope for best now won’t
I?
Meanwhile Loric
Skyblade, High Priest of the Northern God Mithias, closes his eyes as the wagon
goes over another bump in the road. Loric is old by the standards of his fellow
humans he is forty eight with humans being expected to die on average in their
early sixties. Loric has a tall, lean physique of a warrior with short, greying
brown hair and the stubble of a beard. His body is covered with battle scars
from his youth with the most visible being a diagonal scar across his left eye.While
Loric did hope that his god’s message would be clearer once he was back out in
the field, Loric is none the less grateful for chance to test his skills in
true battle once again after almost a decade in the Grand Citadel of Mithias back
north in the Kingdom of Norlyn.
Those bandits harassing that village
never stood a chance against a true warrior of Mithias. Aye, I will concede
that the blade did sting a little when it took a chunk of my flesh, but nothing
a little healing spell couldn’t handle and I didn’t even notice that arrow.
A sudden noise
shakes both Loric and Gorbli out of their respective introspections. The twang
of a bowstring, coming from the shadows beside the road. Traevus cries out as
an arrow sinks into his shoulder. With a shrill cry, a pack of short and ugly
creatures with green skin, a gob full of fangs, somewhat pointy ears rush
towards the wagon as they brandish their crude weapons.
“Goblins!”
roars Gorbli as he leaps from the wagon while drawing his greataxe even as the
goblin archer pulls another arrow from the quiver on its back.
I can always do with a ‘ittle fun.
Loric climbs
out of the wagon only to hurry to the front. The merchant requires his help and
it is clear that dwarven warrior is not going to be the one to give it.
Probably just another foolhardy
maniac. Full of strength, empty of sense.
Loric looks at
Traevus’ should. The arrow wound does not seem to be too bad and nothing a
quick healing spell won’t handle. Loric yanks the arrow out and Traevus lets
out another cry of anguish. Loric ignores the dwarf’s pain. It will be over in
a moment after all and the healing spell won’t work properly with the arrow
still in him. Loric mutters a prayer out of habit as casts the spell. Traevus
sighs with relief before slumping as a white light washes over the wound and
repairs the damaged flesh.
Whilst that
old human cleric is tending Traevus, Gorbli is having fun battling the goblins.
The first one fell quite quickly to Gorbli’s axe. He can easily still feel the
thrill of the moment when blade of his axe bit into the goblin’s green flesh,
the leather armour useless. The second goblin that he is currently fighting had
quickly leapt up to take its place. Gorbli parried its attack and launched another
of his own. His axe sweeps his opponent’s mace aside and knocks the beastie off
its feet. Gorbli has a vicious smile on his face as he brings the axe down on
the goblin’s terrified face.
Loric
meanwhile is protecting Traevus and his wagon of trade goods. He raises his
shield to block the next arrow from the archer. The arrow hits his old, dented
shield, a wooden round shield that has a layer of shield around its front and
sides.
Just another scar for my old shield.
The quartermaster back at the Citadel might have offered me a new shield for my
journey, but this one has served me too well for me to just cast it aside like
any other tool.
Loric jumps
down from the caravan and swings his mace at oncoming goblin. The mace is a
simple tool in Loric’s eyes, only good for bashing your target. With a prayer,
Loric imbrues his mace with his most combat spell, the Brand of the Sun. His
mace glows like a miniature sun and the goblin flinches. The High Priest
doesn’t give him a chance to recover as he swings his mace into the goblin and
the greenskin crumbles under the blow.
It is at this
point the surviving goblins realise that capturing his wagon won’t be as easy
as they original thought. They scatter and run off in all directions, leaving
the human and two dwarves with their wagon.
The neigh of a
horse draws the attention of both Loric and Gorbli. They look for the horse and
spot a rider at the crest of a low hill. The rider seems to be human, but
shakes his fist in frustration at the fleeing goblins. His jet black horse
rears and neighs again while the rider’s red cloak billows behind him in the
wind. Then the horse gallops off towards the southwest, into the Moonside Hills.
Loric mutters
a curse under his breath. No way will he be able to catch that rider on foot.
He glances over at Traevus. The merchant isn’t serious injured anymore with
Loric’s healing, but as the goblins run away, he glances into the back of the
wagon and swears loudly.
“They stole
it!” Traevus shouts before turning to Loric and Gorbli, “You... you two were
incredible in that fight. You probably saved my life. But I need your help
again. The goblins stole something from the back of my wagon. Something
precious. I need to get it back.”
“I shall
assist you,” immediately offers Loric.
“Aye!” agrees
Gorbli, “I swear upon my axe that we shall bring these goblin filth to justice
for this crime.”
“Thank kind
sirs for this,” says Traevus as he looks at them admiringly, “I shall give you
thirty bronze pieces upon the return of my treasure. It is a small wooden box
with a lock. But I must request that you don’t look inside the box if you can
find it. Its contents are rather personal.”
Traevus
returns to his wagon while Loric sets about to find a way to locate the rider
and his goblins. Meanwhile that dwarven warrior seems set to chase the rider on
foot.
“Come on,”
insist the dwarf, “We can’t let ‘im get away!”
“He has
already gotten away,” replies Loric as he looks at the fallen goblins, “We need
to find another way to track them down other than random wandering through the
hills.”
“You got a
better plan then human?” demands the dwarf.
“Aye,” replies
Loric, “If I can heal one of these dying goblins, I’ll be able to question them
for information.”
The dwarf
snorts, but Loric just walks over to first goblin that the warrior had fought.
Out of the three fallen goblins, Loric can tell that this one is the only one
with some life still left in him. He reaches down and heals the goblin with
using another healing prayer. The goblin groans and his eyes flutter open. When
it can focus enough to see Loric, the goblin squeaks in terror and begins to
crawl away from him. Loric kneels down on one knee and looks down at the
goblin.
“Okay goblin,”
Loric tells the greenskin, “I would like some information. I would like you to
note that if I wanted you dead, I could have just ignored you. Instead, I have
gone out of my way to save your life, unlike your former master. If you tell me
what you know, I will let you go alive.”
The goblin
considers his words for a moment before answering Loric.
“We serve a
human wizard named Malareth,” says the goblin, “We live with him in ancient,
buried temple hidden in the caves to the south-west. Malareth was the rider you
saw. Our leader is the Bogeyman known as Kurrash and he delivers Malareth’s
orders to us. He was the one who told us where and when the wagon would pass on
the word. We were ordered to steal a small box from the back of the wagon.”
“Why does
Malareth want the box?” inquires Loric in a gentle tone.
“I have no idea
why he wants it or what it contains,” explains the goblin.
“Do you have
any more information?” asks Loric, but the goblin simply shakes his head.
“You may go,”
says Loric.
“You’re ‘ust
letting the beastie go!” demands the dwarf warrior as the goblin starts to
scamper off.
“Aye,” responds
Loric, “I gave my word that I would him go if he told me what I knew.”
“But did no
such thing,” starts the dwarf and begins to move after the goblin, but stops as
Loric sticks his mace in front of him.
“Yet I did,”
says Loric coldly, “I will uphold my word. I have always considered the spirit
of the deal more important than the word.”
The dwarf
grunts, but lets the goblin flee unchallenged.
“So dwarf,”
says Loric, turning to his new companion, “Who are you?”
“I am Gorbli Irongear
of Clan Ironhelm, Chosen Technopriest of the God of Knowledge,” declares the
dwarven warrior.
“Well Gimli,”
says Loric, “I am Loric Skyblade, High Priest of the Northern God Mithias.”
“It is
Gorbli!” corrects the dwarf.
“Gimli it is,”
mutters Loric under his breath.
***
Gorbli follows
Loric as the human leads them to the temple that the goblin told them about.
That annoying human refused to let him slay that goblin once they had what they
needed. Still, having a competent warrior like this Loric to back him will be
useful. After all, he has already proven good at healing spells, something that
Gorbli lacks the ability to do. Gorbli is musing about how good at battle this
human actually is when Loric starts speaking.
“We have the
cave entrances,” says Loric as he points to a small mountain within the Moonside
hills, “The temple entrance should be obvious once we have secured the caves.”
Gorbli grunts
his acknowledgement and Loric continues.
“Let us sneak
forward and use our element surprise to our advantage,” says the High Priest, “I
will take the eastern entrance while you can use one of the southern ones.”
“As you say,”
replies Gorbli.
Loric does seem to know what he is doin’.
Loric
carefully make his way into the cave without being spotted, slipping by the
large rock they put to secure the eastern entrance. It is hard to move
stealthily when you are wearing chainmail. Loric spots a couple of goblins,
armed with both short swords and short bows chatting around a campfire. He
grins and rushes them. The startled goblin guards are unable to react in time
and Loric brings his mace down on the head of the closest. The skull caves
inwards and the other goblin scampers away with a panicked cry. With more
yelling on the other side the cave, Loric briefly glimpses Gorbli hacking apart
another goblin. Loric raises his shield and blocks an arrow from the goblin
short bow. He purses the goblin, but it keeps backing up and firing at Loric. Given
Gorbli’s loud cursing, Loric doubts his new companion is having better luck as
he continues to block the arrows with his shield. Eventually Loric manages get
within range of the goblin and smashes its arm against the cave side with his
mace, empowering his weapon with Brand of the Sun. The goblin screams with pain
and Loric finishes it off with a blow to the jaw, once again using Brand of the
Sun. With his goblin dealt with, Loric heads further into the caves to find
Gorbli. He eventually finds the dwarf looting the corpses of two goblin guards.
“Due the
dwarves find looting the dead to be respectable?” inquires Loric with the
distain clear in his voice.
“It isn’t like
they’re using their stuff anymore,” retorts the dwarf, “Besides I have found ten
‘ieces of tin Marblecrown coins. And jus’ imagine what I can sell all of their
gear for.”
“And how
exactly will you carry all of their equipment with you?” politely points out
Loric, “You won’t be able to move let alone fight carrying all of it Gimli.”
“Bah!” snorts
Gorbli, “I’ll ‘ust take their coin and swords. Never know when a pair of spare
swords may prove handy.”
He pauses for
a moment before yelling ‘and the name is Gorbli’ as what seems to be an
afterthought.
“Anyway
Gimli,” says Loric, “I have spotted the temple entrance.”
