Cole doesn't even break stride as he responds to the news. "How common are these attacks? And are they generally like this? Dolgrims?" He looks between the soldiers, Teprin, and Atsu, "And how often do they include larger creatures like we just fought? It would be good to know if your defenders are facing a situation beyond the norm."
Seeing the elves are strong of military might, Tal does his ceremonial arms crossed salute from his military days. "Greetings Toralaes, as my companion says, I am Tal'Va'Nocht, former general in the dragon armies that fought against the rakshasa many ages ago. We appreciate you not attacking us on sight despite our other companion's... servants. You all seem to be much more reasonable people than the halflings we met."
"Aha! Now I understand you, cousin. Again, I apologise for my misunderstanding." He leans back in his saddle, his interest clearly piqued. "So you fought with your necromancer friend in the jungles across the mountains? And you travel with a former general who fought the rakshasa? Yet now you are here, crossing the plains? Truly this is an unexpectedly fortuitous meeting!
"You must forgive me. It has been said that my fatal flaw is my endless curiosity. Many of my ancestors died indulging their whims in this regard, I am sure I will do the same. But it seems you have a fascinating tale to tell, and I feel I must hear it. And you must share it, so it will not be forgotten and your descendants should know of it in years to come and honour your memory. Come, friend Rehil, friend General Tal'Va'Nocht! We shall make camp here and we shall share our stories. Invite your necromancer over, I shall make allowances for his surliness."
He raps a few orders in Elvish and the horsemen begin to dismount.
Ashshar
'...it is rarely one incident that makes an engagement...'
The sword was sheathed on their back and the javelin was being carried in their hand, just in case. There were a few incidental wounds from the battle, but Ashshar was not touched by their most recent opponent. If it had been running also, behind that was something very big.
"Yeah, I can't imagine a circumstance in which every fortress being attacked at the same time is normal or good."
Rehil turns around to wave WUltram forward with a slow sweep of his arm.
Then his attention returns to the elf leader.
"I am not a bard or tale teller. I am afraid that the way I tell the story will make it drab, or even boring. But I will do my best. If it is not pleasing tell me to stop."
"General Tal was not with us in the beginning. We met him later, deep in the jungle. At the start we were a mercenary band, hired by House Tharashk to discover why the dragon shards stopped flowing to New Galifar. We were an elf warrior," here Rehil nods, then tips his head toward Wultram " a necromancer , a halfling paladin named Will Kazzar, a light-scaled lizardfolk sorceror, and two warforged. One was a warrior named Cole, and Portforged, who could also wield strange magic. Our first five days on the boat running upriver were quiet. Then we found the first outpost. ...."
"It's safe to say that the situation is abnormal," says Atsu. "Are we looking at a conjunction? Do the Seers think that this is a coordinated assault from Dal Quor or Xoriat?" He makes a snappy salute to the other soldiers and glances over the assembly to determine if they are in good battle order or if it looks like the situation has escalated badly.
"No, no, no! Friend Rehil, not like this!" Torlaes cuts Rehil off as he begins his story. "Tales like these are not to be told like a poem recited to a schoolmaster, like a chore. First we eat, we drink, and then we tell our stories. We laugh, we toast our victories, we curse our enemies, we embellish a little maybe." Torlaes winks. "And we give thanks to our ancestors and leave our stories so our descendants can give thanks to us."
"But come, you are doubtless tired, and you seem to be crossing the plains with very few comforts. Please make yourself comfortable while we prepare." One of the Valenar lays down a finely embroidered carpet while another brings waterskins and dried fruit. "Even your friendly necromancer," Torlaes adds with a grin.
The soldiers look baffled at Atsu's (largely rhetorical) questions. Then one points back down the path. A few hundred yards below, an undulating flow of grey bodies surges upwards. The mass of dolgrims, much larger than before, hurtles up the path and will reach their position in less than a minute. To stand and fight would be suicidal.
The group turn to flee. But the rigours of the journey and injuries from their battle slow them down. The muscles in their legs burn but still the howling and chittering from below grows louder as the dolgrim mob close the distance. Above, the lights of the fortress can be seen but they are too far. Behind them, the first dolgrims are only a few yards behind, their eyes glittering.
A golden streak shoots from the chasm, spewing fire. The dragon spreads her immense wings and for a moment hangs in space. Then her jaws gape and the dolgrims in the lead have no time to even scream as they are charred to the bone. The adventurers feel the wash of the heat on their faces but the dragon's wrath is reserved for the abominations of Khyber. She turns elegantly in midair and swoops, more fire playing over the ranks of the tiny fiends and crisping them. The onward rush of the dolgrims halts in disarray, giving precious moments for the group to regain the lead. Lady Zishasa hauls upwards again, her wings giving a leathery crack with each powerful wingbeat, without bothering to acknowledge the lesser mortals she has spared as she passes them, heading for the city.
Even the dragon's wrath cannot completely halt the horde, the press of bodies seemingly unstoppable. But the fortress is close now, and as they reach the shelter underneath its walls they hear the synchronised cry of "Loose!" The siege engines on the walls begin to unleash their cargo, hurling barrel after barrel which explode with fiery vengeance upon the aberrant army. Arrows hiss through the air, unable to miss the enemies packed so close together. As the gates of the fortress close behind them, all the adventurers can hear is the screams of the dolgrims as they die.
Torlaes looks amused as Wultram casts his spells, then nods appreciatively. "Caution is another name for wisdom, Friend...?"
"Ha!" chuckles Torlaes genially, "Welcome, Friend Wultram. We intend to shorten some of the halflings yet further. While many of that race are the most charming of people, some are not. We have crossed blades in the past with a tribe who often lurk about these parts, and we wish to teach them a lesson in respect for elvish ways."
Cole looks back over his shoulder as the flaming arrows set the dolgim horde alight, the explosive flames momentarily coloring the warforged’s faceplate in angry orange light before the gates slam home.
He labors his last few lumbering steps. He has no ragged breaths, nor does he drop his gear in exhaustion as one might expect from a fleshborn warrior, but Cole’s frame sags. He looks over at his friends, “I did not expect help from Lady Zishasa.” He looks back towards the gate, imagining the carnage beyond, “But I will drink to her return.”
The big warforged pauses, still as a stone, then turns to Atsu and the local soldiers. “We are not in good fighting shape, but I won’t remain inert if those attackers remain a threat. Do we need to report in somewhere?” He rolls his massive shoulders, “Adn do you have healers with powerful restorative powers? A large creature withered us with its poison.”
"We can recuperate in the barracks while we sort this out, but if more powerful creatures come from below we may have no choice but to man the walls," replies Atsu. "I will see if anyone who is available who can assist us with this... withering." He coughs bloodily again.
Atsu's deputy salutes. "Welcome back, sir. We are holding them, both here and at the other fortresses. They have numbers but are disorganised. The portals are all sealed and the heavy weapons are forcing them back. They cannot break through and are simply spending themselves in futile attacks."
He hands Atsu a communique with the seal of the High Warden. "For you, sir - delivered a few moments ago."
The High Warden
The Plains
"We have been hounded by halflings on our trip. There is a swampy waterhole north east of here where we last met three of their scouts. The scouts ran when they saw that we spotted them. No doubt they are bringing their friends down our trail."
When Cole hears the reassuring report from Atsu's deputy, he grounds the head of his warmaul and leans against the nearest stone wall. The warforged looks happy to stay this way for the moment, but he does looks curiously at the letter for a moment.
Rehil smiles. Carpet, food, water. His Valenar cousins are living up to their reputation.
"Torglaes, this is truly magnificent. We have nothing to offer except dry rations, and some well aged flesh that used to hang on the big skeleton's bones."
"Thank you for your hospitality Torales. I was beginning to think most beings of this age were either too savage or too full of themselves to get along with. Besides my companions and yourselves, only the lizardfolk have been worth meeting."
Tal accepts some of the fruit out of respect for the offer.
Ashshar
Quiet since the sight of the dragon, Ashshar was looking around the keep, and watching the other soft-skins go about their lives. Very different from what life looked like back home, but they had the help of a dragon. Uncertain about how to feel about being enclosed, they stayed out of the way and took stock of the few injuries they had received. They did not like the walls.
Torlaes smiles thinly at Wultram. "There are different types of friend. As for their territory, they mostly surround the city of the snake-men, with whom they appear to have a grudge. Though they seem to have a grudge with most people, it appears. Their leader is a great shaman, so I am told, and he tolerates no intruders in his realm."
The elven warlord beams as Rehil and Tal add their praise. "You are most welcome, of course. So, friend Tal, I hope you do not consider me rude, but what manner of creature are you? I have never seen, or heard, of one such as you."
Atsu reads the missive, then carefully folds it and places it among his belongings. He salutes the deputy and says, "By order of the High Warden, I am relieved. I will be taking our guests to the House of Conclave."
He turns to Cole and says, "You've created quite an impression. It seems I'm to be your guide with our fortress. Let's see what the Conclave wants."
Cole brings the head of his warmaul down onto his opposing palm with a CLANG! “Leaving impressions is what we do.” He gives a thankful nod to Teprin, “You did good work, guide.”
He reshoulders his warmaul, giving his friends a questioning look, “Ready to move out?”
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Ashshar
'...even in battle, there is rest...'
Ashshar was casually inspecting their equipment, squatting in a space in the sun, their and looked up when the Warforged spoke, their scales of a shaded black and mossy green standing out against the stone and mud of the keep. In comparison, the majority of their equipment looked almost rustic, save for the wide greatsword on their back. Clearly a savage amidst civilization.
With a nod, they rose to their full height of nine feet from their crouch, stretching after the short bout of inactivity. A slow burbling rumble came as they saw the space around them widen, their tail thumping the ground in amusement.
Torlaes smiles thinly at Wultram. "There are different types of friend. As for their territory, they mostly surround the city of the snake-men, with whom they appear to have a grudge. Though they seem to have a grudge with most people, it appears. Their leader is a great shaman, so I am told, and he tolerates no intruders in his realm."
"It was the same in the jungle."
The elven warlord beams as Rehil and Tal add their praise. "You are most welcome, of course. So, friend Tal, I hope you do not consider me rude, but what manner of creature are you? I have never seen, or heard, of one such as you."
The Regalport elf settles back on the cushions, waiting to hear how his four-armed companion will answer.
"I would be very surprised if you had seen others of my kind or even heard of us. We were once called the kasatha. Many of us served in the dragon armies to put down the children of Khyber. I... don't know what became of the rest of my people. I was fighting along side the great Orzaxes in what was hopefully the final battle against the Rakshasas. I thought I was dead yet here I stand."
"We found him in the jungle, near some kind of lizardman temple." Rehil adds helpfully.
Teprin bows to the adventurers as Atsu takes charge, leading them from the fortress back towards the city. This involves more stairs, climbing back to the level of the city. After the tension, darkness and violence of the deeps, it is an abrupt shock to be back in peaceful and orderly Krezent. Shulassakar walk the streets, going about their business, giving the bloodied and filthy group curious looks but politely declining to disturb them. However, in a change from before, troops maintain a discreet presence at large intersections and on the bridges across the chasm, presumably a response to the disturbances below.
The House of Conclave turns out to be the place where the group had originally met with the Chamber agents and the city leaders. Rilik and Shanquo, the two dragons in humanoid form, are present, as are High Priest Ulramis, High Warden Eyalteph , and Leshlec, High Speaker. Bokehn lounges nearby, eating grapes.
Ulramis blinks at the filthy adventurers as they stagger in. "By the Flame! Get our guests some chairs!"
"Truly this is a miraculous meeting! A soldier from the ancient wars against the hordes of Khyber - what stories you must have! But how do you come to be travelling the plains of the halflings?"
"The airship we were on stopped at the snake-man city to drop off some other passengers. We got off the ship to look around, offended the locals somehow, and were banished to the surface. They gave us a day to clear out of their territory on pain of our lives. Since then we've been harried by the halflings, and chased by fire. "
"I know little of the snake-men and their ways. One day perhaps I should visit. Once I have 'made peace' with the halflings. But where do you head now?"
Chairs are dragged up and refreshments provided to the tired warriors. "Did you find what you were looking for?" asks Rilik.
"Gatherhold?" Torlaes looks nonplussed. "Why do you want to go there? It's nothing but a lot of small tents and some shacks."
"Wultram thinks we can catch a lightning rail or airship there, so that we can continue our journey."
"Thus far we've mostly just found trouble," says Atsu. He accepts the drink gratefully, his sallow pallor a reminder of his fragile condition. "Fortunately these warriors are equal to the challenge. I presume, as our presence has been requested, that there is a counterattack plan, and that we have some part in it?"
"You presume incorrectly," growls High Warden Eyalteph. "The defences are currently holding well, and your deputy is most able and less inclined to wander the Depths unaccompanied. You are instead to be attached to the Speakers on special duty."
"Indeed," continues High Speaker Leshlec, "Our honoured guests will soon be leaving on a mission of utmost importance. Unfortunately their numbers have been somewhat diminished. You are to provide support to them in their task."
"Indeed, this is all very well," says Rilik leaning forward, "But did you discover anything useful in the Depths?" He smooths his formal suit as he sits back again. Shanquo just smirks and begins stuffing his pipe.
"Pfft, I think you are being generous in referring to Gatherhold as a 'major settlement'. And if it is transportation you want, you would be getter going to Taer Valaestas. You an pick up a Lyrandar airship, instead of travelling in a horse-truck on the lightning rail.
"Come! Why do we not defeat our common halfling foe, then return in triumph to Taer Valaestas and enjoy some civilized amenities in an elven city? I would like to see out many-armed general in battle! And much more stylish than slogging across the plains and wading through dinosaur sh!t in some ancestors-forsaken halfling hamlet!"
Nalverren strolls over and grabs some of the grapes, popping them into his mouth as he listens to the others.
"Well, it sounds like you knew what we would encounter down there. Teprin certainly did. So we conversed with your quest in the chamber of prophecy. It would appear that what she said and what I saw of the prophecy confirmed our place in the grand scheme of things, at least in this potential thread of reality. The following puzzle pieces exist:"
Nalverren continues, pacing and stabbing the air with a fork to punctuate each point.
"One. We hold the key to the prisoner. Confirmed by intersection of prophecy seen below, and our death and subsequent rebirth."
"Two. The wards below, our fate, and the fate of the prisoner are intertwined. A statement of your guest and perhaps confirmed by the invasion we just witnessed."
"Three. Your guest suggested that our holding the key could be to lock the prisoner in a cell rather to release it. It seems some part of the wards has been broken, evidenced by the invasion we witnessed from below. If it is so widespread, I would hazard a guess that it will get very, very much worse."
Nalverren ceases pacing, the exhaustion suddenly very obvious. He sits in one of the proffered chairs.
"It would seem that we are the ones destined to seal up the leak that has occurred. But we have no idea how to do that, really."
At Torlaes' offer, Rehil's eyes light up. He looks at his companions with a broad eager smile arcing across his normally passive face.
The smile collapses under the weight of Wultram's opinion.
"Ever since I was awoken I just kind of followed them around. They were there to find me for a reason and I must find out what that reason is. They have also been my guides in this time. I trust their wisdom. Though I must add, where I am from, the fighting was constant. I would have given much for a respite. Choosing to find a fight seems foolish."
Atsu lets Nalverran describe the situation, then says, "A... functional assessment." He bows in the direction of Rilik and Shanquo. "Essentially, we know that increasingly dangerous creatures are coming forth, but we don't yet know how to reinforce the wards to stop them."
"I suspect that it will involve us returning below to find what has happened to weaken the wards, so that they can be repaired."
He coughs wetly and wipes away a gobbet of blood and rotting flesh.