Kannonfodder's page

Clareg sweeps his axe towards a grappling goblin but, not wanting to hurt the half-orc, pulls his swing at the last second and misses.

After examing the coins as to their place of origin, I pocket 5 of the golden coins. The silver coins and the axe head I give to Clareg to carry ("A token of appreciation lad,") and offer five golden coins to the elf and the priest. As for the Jug, I offer it to Hru, "Tis somethin' fer the healin' of the body I be imaginin'. Ya can be carryin' it if ye want."

"'N as fer injuries, there do be a couple of ye that look a little worse fer wear." I eye Hru's minor burns as I talk.

I hope there's no objections to the distribution. I figured Clareg might not mind carrying more coinage.

"This be well-made," says Clareg with mild interest, "Say, if'n we live, will you craft me a handle to match the quality?"

Pocketing the coins he says "This'll be for Dareg's wife and young'uns."

<cough><cough><cough><cough>
"What in the name of Torag's hammer!" splutters Clareg, awakening.

"zzzz zzz no dareg no zzzzz"

Say good night Clareg.

"G . o . o . d .. n .. i ... g ... h ... t ... ... C ... l ... a"

<thunk>

Clareg chops the leg off of the fleeing goblin ... for starters. He continues to hack until restrained ... if you dare stop him.

Clareg says nothing as he charges in, following the lead of his commander, but as his axe sweeps down and separates an arm from a body he says "Die you ..." but does not finish. His face is so red with anger that it would little doubt that he is in the second stage of the dwarven grief-cycle: bloodlust.

He shifts the swing of his axe so that instead of hitting the floor it slides into the side of the adjacent goblin, killing it as well.

"Pssst," whispers Clareg from behind you "Are you just gonna stand there? Let's kill some goblins."

MAP.

The oldest living Kannonfodder begins to push the goblin over the edge: "Next one, I get to beat with me fists though. Dareg woulda wanted that too."

Clareg swings wildly at Klyndak "I told you to leave 'im to me!!" but his fists do not penetrate the dwarven wizard's magicks.

Just a little further up the stairs, you see the entrance that the goblins came out of.

"Scoot back from the ogre, Clareg. Poll the barge while we fight the bats, Clareg. ..." mumbles Clareg as he moves down the stairs.

You wait. Nothing happens.

The bridge is entirely exposed. This was once a fortress. The only design flaw is that the stairs are in a tunnel at the point where they reach the bridge to the spire. If they'd been higher up, invaders from that direction could have been picked off before they even reached the bridge.

"Shall we be going in," I ask my companions.

"Clareg, Dareg, why don't ye be after workin' the winch. Ye other two be careful o' trouble."

"Clareg, Dareg, do the 'eavy lifting. Clareg, Dareg, poll the barge while we fight the bats. Clareg, Dareg, you run ahead while I kill something. 'ave you mentioned the pay raise to 'im yet Dareg," complains Clareg.

"Yer supposed to lower yer voice when you complain about someone right beside yuh," reminds Dareg helpfully.

The winch turns too easily and Dareg stumbles back having expected more resistance. "Me brother's beard!" he shouts looking at the valley 200' below.

"Don't yuh be goin' o'er the edge, brother," Clareg laughs uneasily, "It be too far down and we won't be waitin' for yuh tuh climb back up!"

Other than that incident, the Kannonfodders easily raise the portcullis.

As I contemplate the bridge, I suggest, "Let us be goin' in a line, 10 feet apart or so. Rall and Clareg at the front, Dareg at the back, wit' me in the middle."

I have my crossbow ready to fire.

"Who's Rall?" says Clareg.

"Think it's a nickname for the elf," answers Dareg.

...

"Can I 'ave a nickname?"

In dwarven:

"There they go again in the orc-talk," complains Dareg.

"Rude. It be rude. Like we have not been a fightin' right beside 'em all a this time," agrees Clareg.

Clareg does as he's told and backs up, taking the time to pull a vial from a side pouch and slam it back.

Dareg takes the knees out from another opponent leaving him wounded but conscious.

Dareg seems to intentionally jostle his brother as swings his waraxe. His own axe meets its mark and takes down an opponent but his brother's swing gets no where near its target.

There are 8 of the primitives standing. Two of them unharmed by even caltrops. We'll wait for Klyndak to make his two attacks before they make theirs.

Clareg and Dareg wait until the primitives are almost upon them and then throw their axes at the nearest. Clareg's axe hits but only after knocking Dareg's off course.

"You be jealous enough of me to ruin my perfect throw for yer own glory little brother?" complains Dareg drawing his waraxe and preparing for the onslaught.

"Leave off with the 'little' and make yer next shot count," responds Clareg drawing his own waraxe with a look of absolute glee. "We'll be gettin' blood on our beards tonight!"

Clareg, who wasn't listening, says "So what's all this about eating?"

"Hru and Rellios thinks they might be wanting to be having us stay for dinner," answers Dareg.

"Well!! That'd be mighty nice of them!" beams Clareg.

... "It's a double entendre ya idjeet!"

"Double entendre? Isn't that an Elven version of the Urgosh?"

"Ya. Pretty much."

In dwarvish:

IN DWARVISH: "Pssst. Klyndak. I don't think 'e be all together there."

Hru practically flies down the ledge slipping dextrously by both Rellios and Dareg as he does. He skids to a stop at the ladder and grabs Clareg off of it, spinning him around, and placing him on the ledge.

For his heroic bravery he is rewarded with a loud guffaw from both of the Kannonfodders.

CLAREG: "'e actually thought I would be doing it!"

DAREG: "Yer nuts but not that nuts!"

CLAREG: "Hehehehehe."

The Kannonfodders slip quickly and quietly into the bone room having heard enough to understand the Orc bloods plan.

"Finishin' up," calls Clareg cheerfully as he takes another hit and hits back in return. [another 7 hp off Clareg]

"C'mon ... yer blocking the entrance elf! Let us in on the action," complain both Clareg and Dareg.

"The silence is better," says Dareg.

"Ay!" echoes Clareg.

"I'm not sure which is worse, the weird noise or the sudden stoppin' o' it," says Dareg.

"Ay!" echoes Clareg.

"You'll be not havin' the fun alone," says Dareg hoisting his axe.

"Ay!" echoes Clareg.

The follow closely behind you.

"I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I be sleeping all night. I be working all day."

Clareg standing just in front of Rellios says "No way am I to be missin' all the fun" and steps off the path to push his way to the front of the party beside his brother.

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'Ahh crap!' says Clareg dropping a handful of mushrooms.

'Smartest thing you said all week,' agrees Dareg.

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"... then they be bein' no kin of mine."

"Nor of mine," agrees Dareg.

"Nor o' mine," thirds Clareg.

"... ... if they ain't kin o' mine they cannot be kin o' yers," criticizes Dareg.

"Arright! On account o' our being cousins!!" says Clareg.

"Brudders!!"

"Are ye sure 'bout that, ... I been thinkin' ... if my mother's sister's husband is your uncle then we'd be second cousins, right?"

"Eedjit."

A bone in the floor snaps as Clareg steps on it.

Dareg climbs the first ladder without any difficulty. The ledges are approximately 3-5 feet wide but are covered in moss, soil, animal droppings, occassional ivy, and even the rare bone. Ascending one by one and moving all the equipment up on to the first ledge is laborious.

You cross the first ledge and as you begin to ascend the second stone ladder, Dareg calls down "Watch for the third grip from the top, ... it be naught but mud marked with the grain o' the rock. A trap, but not one to fool the eyes o' a dwarf!". Nor the eyes of an elf it would seem, Rellios spots it too noting that it is actually the fifth grip from the top.

The second ledge has similar dimensions. You cross it slowly and carefully and are at no great risk of falling despite the slipperness of the moss in places.

Half way across the ledge, you see that a crevice in the rock goes quite deep and seems to open up into a cave.

On the wall of the crevice the stone has been polished smooth in a perfect 1'x1' square. On the square are engraved words in dwarvish. Despite a half-hearted effort to deface them, the following words can be made out:

From this angle it is difficult to see clearly within the cave but the crevice is large enough to enter through.

"I'll need another jug of that wine!" says Clareg, reaching into the stock.

"That's your third," complains Dareg.

"Well, I forgot me first back at the camp this morning and this one here is halfway empty," he responds.

"Get 'is clothes off quick," yells Clareg. "And the elves too, I guess."

Dareg looks at him in shock and disgust "I can't believe yer me brudder!"

"The cold will kill 'im otherwise ya iddjit!" says Clareg holding up some blankets from the well stocked barge.

Then I yell at the brothers in Dwarven, a proper language for truly communicating...

Dareg answers in dwarven

Rivlets of water pour from Rellios' unnaturally beautiful hair down his unnaturally beautifully cheekbones as he strikes with unnaturally beautiful grace and kills the goblin.

"Ey! What are you staring at Clareg? Keep your eyes on the bat!!" shouts Dareg.

"I was just seein' if the elf was ..."

"cough . cough . elflover . cough"

Dareg is hit in the back of the head by an unseen force. He turns and glares at his brother and says "Stop 'itting me ya moron and 'elp me keep ahold a this durn bat!"

Dareg sees the changes in the battle and makes a decision. He takes the boat hook and swings it at the bat, hooking on to its harness. The bat is now being held within melee reach of the barge. The entire battle is floating downstream elf, barge, bat, and batrider.

"EY! 'ow come the Elf gets a pet!" complains Clareg.

"Me blasted beard!" yells Clareg as a tuft of his beard is pulled off before grabbing with both hands at the javelin in his shoulder to prevent it from being yanked out should the rider flee.

"By me brother's beard!!" yells Dareg, which is both relevant to the situation and fortuitously a dwarven expletive. "NO! I'll steady the curse-crumbled barge, you help me brudder!"

"Agreed," says Clareg, "A little less conversation, a little more action please. All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me. A little more bite and a little less bark. A little more fight and a little more spark."

"Shut up, Clareg, the bad guys will 'ear ya!" barks Dareg.

"That's the idea, ya knuckle'ead."