Dark, ominous clouds hand low in the sky behind you and a strong, chill wind plucks at your cloaks. The muddy streets of Swallowfeld lie behind you on the tree-fringed trail. Occasionally, small flurries of sleet and strong winds swirl about you. Ahead lie hours of miserable travel.
Curiously enough however, although your reasons for traveling to the priory are yours alone, you managed to find three other companions interested in making the journey with you. Aside from the three, be they new faces or old friends, there is little else on the trail that might stave off boredom.
No doubt of all the travelers in the group, the strangest has to be the kobold who seems to fancy himself a knight. Although his armor and crossbow are certainly not pretty, he's clearly taken the time to try and make them look religious in some way. Scratches of a dragon adorn most prominent points on his leathery armor, as well as draconic wings along the side of his crossbow, the blacks, leathery browns and silver studs complimenting his pale green scales quite nicely.
If he does deem himself a knight, however, he seems remarkably quiet about it. Every so often, his fringes flair a little and he slows down to eye the trees and shrubbery, his yellow eyes darting about. But after a little while, he eases back into his usual pace, leading the way along the cold path.
The light is fading.
The freezing rain falls torrentially, soaking Brevon to the bone. The air is heavy and gray. In the distance, thick clouds of fog roll relentlessly over the hills and moors, obscuring whatever might lie beyond. And all the while he is drawn, inescapably closer, to his destination.
As the dreary day trudges wearily toward darkness, Brevon, too, struggles along the muddy path. His robes, with which he normally takes great pains, have become soiled from the march. Underneath his travelling cloak his unkempt blonde hair falls down to meet his equally bedraggled beard.
He remembers a time when he cared for such things.
Of late he has been consumed with a singular purpose: The Priory of Cymer. There he seeks answers to a question; a question that has kept him awake for too many nights; a question that has separated him from his beloved Darlen:
Where is the light?
He will find it, he hopes, in Cymer. "But first," he mutters, "to get through this accursed storm."
He realizes that only the most desperate of travelers will be afoot in this weather. He is therefore quite surprised to see, upon rounding a nest of bamboo, a small, green creature in studded leather walking up ahead.
"Hark, friend! I mean you no harm. Have you news of Cymer?"
What miserable day to travel, Colwyn thinks as he glances back and eyes the dark clouds. And strange companions, as he looks around at those traveling with him. He recognizes one of them from Swallowfeld, I think he is the priest that killed his wife or something. Great, I'm stuck on the road with a fanatic.
He continues to observe his companions and concludes, I am truly cursed, a talking lizard. Upon seeing that the final member of his traveling companions is a young woman closer to his age he starts walking next to her and says with a broad grin, "Mornin, we did na get properly introduced fore we left, me name is Colwyn of Swallowfeld. What be you called lass?"
The kobold stops for a moment, eyeing the one who spoke to him for a minute before evidently deeming him friendly. "...probably not news you are looking for... but if you're headed that way, feel free to come along. I'll do my best to keep you safe."
Resuming his march through the wind, he plods lightly as he looks back a little, clearly not too eager speak... though he finally does talk. "I am Kivyx, Paladin of Apsu, Exile of the Stonescale Tribe. I'm out here looking for someone... she's very important..." He went quiet for a moment, before speaking up again, a little more hope in his tone. "...you're all from Swallowfield, yes? A couple days ago... did a woman come through here with some motley band of sellswords? She'd have been wearing shining armor? Long dark brown hair? Fair white skin? Blue eyes? You all wouldn't have seen anyone looking like that, would you?"
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Liath trudges stoically onward, her ranseur held casually against one shoulder, the waves of rain pelting her breastplate unnoticed by her steely gaze. Within her are storm clouds of angst that she is tasked with a mission of transport, rather than glorious orders to spread the sacred light to a heathen band of orcs, or perhaps a horrid den of kobolds or some other rodentia whose very existence is a blight upon the Eternal Dawn. Still, orders are orders, so she trudges on with the gate of the inexorable machine.
Her heart is lightened somewhat at seeing other travelers join her along the road. Oh, and one a fellow brethren in the Light. Perhaps this trip is not so accursed as thought afore.
"Blessings unto you, brother," she says in her casual monotone to the man in the well-worn travel cloak. "I had despaired that another of Faith would be found in so remote a clime, but I am gladdened to see I was wrong." She wonders why he looks so...haunted? Then dismisses the thought. So long as his faith is pure there is no other judgment of his worth.
To the honey-tongued man in the leather armor, she follows his good manners. "A fine morning to you, good sir. I am Liath, Priest of War in service to Darlen. I know that I am on this road by command, so are you also so geased to travel this way? Or have you some other...motive?" He looks not the farmer, nor the merchant. So what reason would so silvered a tongue have to journey so lonely a road?
To the last traveler she actually starts to smile a little. In the dark and rain it appears to be a Halfling or gnome. Such little people are always welcomed on whatever road they choose. Their jovial personalities with ready jokes and ready wine-skins make for a short road and quick days. She draws closer. "And an especially fine morning to you s--." Her sentence is cut short as the details resolve into a...kobold. IT...seems to be walking with the others without showing hostility, so there doesn't seem to be any -immediate- danger. And, did it say it was a paladin? Of Apsu no less! To say that is presumptuous would be an understatement.
"I've not seen any band of sell swords, kobold, on this road or any other I've traveled recently. And why would you be looking for such? Are they a mercenary band you wish to join? From your description you seem to be looking for a fellow war-sister, though I do not ken why one would travel with a band of mercs. Still, I'll keep an eye out for you..." Liath's eyes descend and stare straight at the crossbow, "...paladin."
Kivyx makes no show of Liath's clear disdain for him. He was used to it... most folks did not appreciate seeing him around, and he started to wonder if the rumors he'd heard were simply others hoping he'd get himself killed on the way to the priory... he hoped that wasn't the case.
"Thank you." The kobold winced a bit as water pelted him in his eye, blinking a couple times to get it out. "Why she would travel with such lowlifes is something I wouldn't know... but I can't say I care for them. I just want to see her again." He slows down a little, frowning more as his mind wandered, before picking up his pace a bit. "I don't know why she'd be going this way, but if it is her... I must- ...I want find her. She is precious beyond measure."
"...what is out this way that would entice holy warriors? Perhaps she is headed to aid someone? Maybe I can help..."
Great an Abbess, next she'll be askin for coin for her church or the poor or some such. Colwyn thinks as his mood turns as sour as the weather. He replies guardedly, I'm lookin for someone." Hastily he changes the subject and motions forward, "Best we make haste, the weather is getting worse."
As Brevon draws near he realizes that there are others, hidden within the mist, walking the lonely road toward Cymer.
Liath's greeting brings what at one time might have been a warm smile to his face (now, it is barely tepid).
"Ah, a sister in light. Despair not, for Darlen's fire glows even in the darkest of places."
His supplication sounds hollow, almost rehearsed.
"Yes," Brevon says knowingly. "Nothing good would come of being caught in the night. Onward, then."
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Liath answers Kivyx's questions, not even thinking they might only be rhetorical. "There is little to tempt those of Faith this way. The priory of this direction is old and sotted. Still, were one trying to escape and find solace so as to give Darlen the most pure thanks and praise, one might sojourn this way to find one's self. Tho, 'twere that the case, they might not wish to be found. But, if what you say is accurate and she surrounds herself with a company of hired swords, that hints to me of plans of conquest. Mayhap she has learned of some cache of evil? If so, then let us pray Darlen guides us to her so that her vanquishment of evil is made more complete. No war-sister should be left to leaven her forces with coin when a warrior of faith is so close at hand."
To Liath the kobold's search and the woman he chases after was a military question with a military solution. She bothered her head not that it could be any other.
Liath barely hears the rogue's words. If he chases after someone, 'tis mostly a harlot that absconded with coin of his, or perhaps he merely runs from a scorned husband. No matter, the Light comes to all in its own time.
Liath gives the man's words her full attention, and catches a tone that is a bit too remote from the soul to have meaning. Uncharacteristically she is touched, and moves closer to him. "Be not so dark, brother," she says, softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Darlen gives us troubles to test our mettle, not to bring us so low as to not taste joy in life. Your feet have found this road for a reason. Look about you, and you will see your purpose."
She smiles a little.
The conversation of your fellow travelers eases the drudgery of the journey quite a bit, and before you know it you've made it (by all guesses) roughly halfway to the Priory.
By now the wind and intermittent sleet have been slowly increasing in tempo, and although the countless boughs of the forest protect you from the storm's worst effects, it is undoubtedly cold and miserable.
Kivyx trudges along the path quietly, not particularly eager to open his maw and make enemies of his new company. However, after a little while, he looked back at the woman and spoke to her out of the blue. "Liath, yes? I have a question I never got to ask her... but being a warrior of faith, maybe you can help me with it..."
He paused a bit, as if questioning whether it was really a good idea to ask her. But finally, he spoke again. "...why is life precious? When must it be protected?"
...wha?
Colwyn continues the journey in the miserable weather grateful for the conversation that helps the miles pass by. While he can't see the sun he figures they are about halfway to their destination when he spots some fallen trees blocking the trail ahead.
"Hold up," he announces as he points up the road. "Looks like some fallen trees up ahead. Could be the wind dat done it or bandits tryin to slow us down so they can pillage us."
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Liath initially scowls at the kobold's question. Such a query from so basic a lifeform is not a common thing. Still, if it is asking about this, does not Darlen call her to answer it fully? Is this not a part of what she was just telling Brevon?
Just then Colwyn calls out, pointing to what of course is an obvious ambush.
"It appears, good sir Kivyx, that you are about to see in practice the first part of your answer. Lesson the First: Life must be protected when it is your own. Life is to be ended when it tries to take what is yours.
Mach KRIEG!"
Shouting the orcish phrase to unlock the Blessing of War, she imbues herself with enhanced martial prowess. That done, she calls out: "You can sit and wait for me to gather even more of Darlen's power, or you can attack now! The smart tactic is to attack now, but if you wait longer, that will make killing you much easier!"
To the rest of the party, she says, softly, "Stay behind me. If they try to rush us, hold your ground. If they have bows, we charge."
If they be haven bows I be taken cover behind some trees, Colwyn thinks at Liath's pronouncement.
Kivyx frowns at Liath's response... and even more so as she calls out the ambush party. Of course it's an ambush... that's precisely what I would do. Heck, I've DONE that before! The kobold pulled out his crossbow, readying a retaliation in case the woman happened to be right... but he prayed there were no attackers.
And she's about as subtle as a collapsing tunnel... great. I suppose it gives me a good smokescreen from any attention, though... Even so, his eyes glaze over as his fringes perk up. He still hadn't gotten used to this power - this ability to "see" the evil within others - but it may prove useful here. If they were using his tactics, they'd be closer to this part of the road than near the trees; it would allow them to better pin them down with no escape routes.
"Do we have to kill? Maybe we can convince them to turn back safely..?" he whispered back.
Liath's words strike a chord with Brevon, and he cannot help but smile.
"My thanks to you, war-maiden. You carry Darlin's fire inside you, that is clear. I envy the soulstar that burns so bright. It reminds me of roads I have travelled, and those I wish to see again."
Perhaps it is not mere chance I should meet one so strong in faith on this journey. Perhaps this one is sent from Darlin himself. Perhaps all of them are.
The thought warms his heart, if ever so slightly.
At Liath's battle cry, Brevon starts.
"If ever we had the benefit of surprise," he whispers into the gloom, "surely it is lost now. Light help us."
At that, he draws his crossbow, which begins to glow.
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At the sound of Liath's battle cry, a head pops up over the barricade ahead, then promptly disappears. Not a moment later, a lone arrow cuts through the air and burries itself in the snow just in front of Kivyx and Liath.
After the arrow, a powerful flurry of wind and sleet crashes through the forest. Wiping the stinging ice from your eyes, you prepare yourselves for battle!
The wind whips around Colwyn as he takes cover in the tree line and advances toward the barricade.
"Cowards! Attacking wandering travelers on pilgrimage! Under cloak of ice and shadow, no less! Friends, take cover!"
Brevon steps toward Liath. Touching her shoulder, he whispers heavily into her ear.
"Light guide you, war-maiden."
Brevon hastens to the safety of the trees.
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As Brevon touches Liath, she can feel the energy flow through her. Shouting an exultant "Primo Victoria!" she marches forward.
As she advances, she laughs, a low, guttural sound, such as one who does not fear death might make. She further enhances her might with additional Divine Favor, and the energy flows through her readily, like a dam bursting unto low ground.
Those who live in the dark can not stand the light. And she shall bring it to them.
Kivyx's eyes snap to the ground as the arrow impacted, before rolling to the side into the underbrush. Of course it's an ambush! I flaking knew it! The battle maiden seemed quite content to draw the ire of their attacker. There has to be more... it took me a good portion of the day to fell one tree in my trap. Given the number of trees and the stacking... I'd say at least 4. Maybe 5 or 6, but probably no less than 3.
Kivyx knew he should stay quiet, but with the woman shouting her battle cries, she should have most of the attention of their aggressors. He decided to chance it and rush the flank, moving quickly through the snow and trees. And Kivyx wanted to get to them before she did. For their sakes.
She doesn't seem like one for restraint.
After the gust of wind passes and the sleet settles, the view of the barricade is suddenly clear. Atop the wooden barricade is a scrawny bald female, her longbow already drawn in preparation for the cessation of the winds. With a hate-filled sneer she let's her arrow soar towards Liath. In spite of the magical protections, the arrow still manages to knick an exposed piece of flesh. After watching the arrow take a bite out of its mark, the odd woman jumps back down behind the barricade.
Two other humanoids with ugly bulging heads and crossbows seem to have crept a little ways towards you in the undergrowth as well. They too take aim at Liath, although both of their arrows miss by a wide margin, not even coming close to the shimmering protective field surrounding the warpriest. One of them then stops to reload his crossbow, while the other, spotting Kivyx, retreats back towards the barricade.
Seeing the arrows fly towards Laith Colwyn thinks, now is my chance. He steps back onto the road and rushes headlong down it. When he sees the ugly creature reloading his bow he veers back into the underbrush toward the foul creature.
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Catching the briefest glimpse at their foes, Liath recalls how her Warmaster, Horus, had been giving her some last-minute advice on this desolate area. Chief amongst his concerns were the mongrel race of half-goblins.
"Beware," she shouts to her companions, "these are half-goblins. They share much with their goblin kin, and are quick and stealthy. Be cautious and give no quarter, for you may expect none."
The arrow that strikes her flesh angers her, and she wishes to close to battle with all speed. She sprints forward at a run, coming to a stop only when she's against the makeshift-barrier. She brandishes her ranseur, threatening two of the assailants.
"Half goblins?! What's the other half, devils?"
Seeing the brave scout rush the enemy, Brevon feels likewise inspired. He darts forward, ducking back into the trees once he passes Kivyx.
Give no quarter... that phrase just irked Kivyx a bit. After all, it was quarter that saved his life. He should at least try and show the same dignity to others. Well, first things first. Let's see just how many of them there are.
Kivyx slogged forward through the sleet as he returned to the road, crossbow still at the ready, but... he wanted to get closer. Moving up alongside Brevon, Kivyx's eyes shimmer as he scans the logs and it's surroundings, hoping to determine just how many evil auras he could see.
The the two crossbow wielding half-goblins size up their human opponents before withdrawing through the overgrowth to the path behind the barricade.
The female sprints off to the side allowing the barricade to provide protection from Liath's ranseur, which clatters harmelessly against the felled trees.
Whirling around, the scrawny figure draws another arrow and sends it towards her clearest target - Kivyx. Again, the arrow misses the kobold's small frame, flying off into the forest behind you.
Colwyn rushes up the road taking cover behind the barricade and draws his shortsword.
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As the rogue rushes in next to Liath and draws his blade, her face splits into a broad grin and she quickly claps him on the shoulder. "Ha! Glad am I to see you join me in the front ranks! Let us pay these cowardly brigands the true wages of their wicked ways! For conquest by The Rising Sun!"
With that she lets out a piercing war-cry and vaults up the barricade.
Once on the other side, she takes a stab at the nearest creature, her weapon seeking out vitals as if by its own accord.
Brevon struggles to see through the gloom as Liath vaults over the barricade, disappearing behind its bulk.
"There!" he whispers in excitement, as one of their assailants shows itself on the western side of the path. He gingerly sidesteps the lizard man and runs across the path. He raises his crossbow and fires.
He drops prone in an attempt to conceal himself from the arrows.
...I don't see anything! Kivyx blinked for a moment, before seeing Liath vault over into the barricade to butcher the creatures. "WAIT!" he shouted, before flinging himself between the remaining half-goblins and his companions, arms up in a desperate hope to get the fighting to stop. "Stop! Everyone stop! Right now! There is no evil here! Stop!"
Kivyx frowned as he detected nothing by evil... figures. More lives he knew he wasn't going to save. Rushing forward, Kivyx readied his crossbow and fired at the half-goblin in the woods beyond the barricade, before rapidly reloading another bolt into his bow.
Although Brevon and Kivyx miss their marks, Liath's inspired onslaught leaves her foe unconscious with a gaping wound upon its chest - soliciting shouts of rage from the other two half-goblins.
As the winds begin to pick up again the remaining half-goblins retreat back into the woods to take cover behind the trees. While one is busy reloading his crossbow, the female fires off another arrow almost without even bothering to aim. This time, her arrow strikes true, nearly toppling Liath. Born by her fury, a primal shriek bursts from the archer's mouth.
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Liath is staggered as the arrow hits her full-force, finding a weak point in her armor. She pauses in her charge, and calls upon divine favor to cure her wounds so she might press the attack for more glory in battle!
Liath sighs as her wounds close of their own accord, and she makes herself ready to once more unto the breach go.
Brevon hears a dull, wet thud followed by a groan from Liath. Then he hears her roar in rage and triumph.
Groaning, he clambers to his feet.
"I fear our foes are more zealous than I suspected. Very well."
He raises his face toward the gray sky and extends his hand up into the mist. The cold is biting; it seeps through his robes and fills his lungs. He closes his eyes, clinging to the memory of a distant dream. An image of the rising sun. A soft wind.
"Please," he whispers into the fading light. "Don't leave me. Not yet."
And then he feels it--the warmth of sunlight on his face. He smiles and opens his eyes. A divine light surges from his outstretched hand and engulfs his friends.
Colwyn rushes through the brush toward th goblins.
Kivyx cusses a bit in draconic as his bolt missed. With the wind picking up, it was getting harder to see properly, much less aim. Nevertheless, he remained resolute as he hopped past the barricade and took aim again, firing as fast as his little clawed fingers would let him, loosing two bolts through the howling wind at the far goblinoid before it could be dealt with.
Kivyx cusses a bit more in draconic.
The female skitters past Colwyn, dodging his blade, and sets up in the middle of the path to deliver another arrow to Liath, but the wind blows her shot astray. Her companion, crossbow at the ready, prepares to make an attack but then begins to curse and never takes the shot - his crossbow appears to have jammed or suffered some similar malfunction.
Goblin nuggets, Colwyn thinks as he miss the Goblin that is running away. Colwyn wastes no time and quickly rushes across the road and engages the other goblin.
Inspired, Brevon races after the fated scout.
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Liath shakes her head to clear it and looks ahead of her. Her eyes fix on the scout dead-ahead. She laughs, a feral sound, relishing the glory to come for laying yet another foeman low. Truly she stands high in the eyes of Devon this day!
"For the Rising Sun!"
She charges forward, her polearm held ramrod straight, the hardened spear-tip hunting for a warm home.
Kivyx chased after the others, but it seemed like the half-goblins were in retreat. Kivyx hurried along and pulled back his crossbow, taking aim at the remaining monster and firing away.
Liath's weapon comes down so fast upon the archer that she is unable to even make a sound as she is felled upon the spot. The winds seem to howl in her place, sending another flurry of sleet tearing down the path.
Having seen his only allies fall, the final remaining half-goblin begins to sprint off into the forest full tilt, hoping to outrun the lot of you.
Unfortunately for the half-goblin, his panicked gambit fails to pay off, as he becomes the third and final member of the ambushers to meet an end on the blade of the vengeful ranseur.
Brevon puts away his crossbow and draws his walking staff in its place.
"By Darlen's grace, we are spared! What loathsome creatures, to lie in wait 'midst darkness for the unwary. Are any of you injured? War-maiden, are you hurt?"
He chatters on a bit, moving in to inspect Liath, Colwyn, and Kivyx in turn.
"You fought fiercely in our defense, war-maiden," he says, addressing Liath. "A true defender of the innocent, I see."
Turning to Colwyn, "And you, such bravery! I must respect a man who would race to defend himself and others. I am guessing this was not your first such skirmish, hmm?"
And to Kivyx, "I'm afraid I underestimated you, young dragon. Truly, I am sorry. Do tell me your name, master wyrm."
"And of course, I am Brevon Sabor, disciple of Darlen, bless his fair and noble name."
He is suddenly wracked with a coughing fit, clutching his staff as he doubles over.