INTO THE DEPTHS
Joan and I carefully descend into the cave. I lead the way with my bow at the ready, she is behind me with blade in one hand and torch in the other to give us some light.
As we creep inward, I hear the sound of goblins chatting with one another. The two guards are talking about the “Ascendance” and how they might become greater than trolls. Knowing they could turn around at any moment, I took aim and fired, the shot narrowly missing them both.
“Bree Yark!” they cry, as I Joan rushes into battle while I line up a second shot. She cuts down the guard on the right, while I put an arrow through the eye of the one on the right.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, two goblins with blades and shields rush upon Joan, while a couple of arrows fly past me. Outnumbered, Joan falls back behind me, while I switch to my blades. The goblins, having forced Joan to flee rush after her and towards me in pursuit. Their own bravado leaves them off guard as they raise their weapons high. I dive low, and bring up my dagger beneath the first one’s shield and into its gut. The second one falters and turns to face me but I kick him back to the ground, and stab him in the neck. An arrow grazes my shoulder, and I rush after the archers.
Joan, having regained her confidence, follows me back into the fray, and we cut down three more of the fiends, before the last one turns to flee. It doesn’t get far as my dagger finds its mark right between his shoulder blades.
I retrieve my thrown blade, and we pause to listen. Joan looks pretty bloodied. There is a cut across her side, and one to her right arm. They aren’t deep, but they need tending. She’s also breathing heavily from the fight.
As we sit, and listen, I look up at Joan, and she gives me a half smile, and then suddenly, her face goes white and her eyes roll back as she slumps forward. A large centipede has its jaws imbeded into the back of her neck! A second one is curling around her arm, and two more lunge at me, their pincer like jaws nearly punching through my leather breaches as I leap up to my feet. I quickly dispatch the creatures, though one gets hold of my wrist for a moment, and I have to shake another on off my leg before I can stomp it into the earth.
I then check on Joan. Her breathing is shallow, and her skin is cold. I offer a prayer to the House of Chrones that they might heal my companion. My hand begins to glow red with the warmth of the sun as I place it over the wound on her neck, and then the wound to her side and her arm. The wounds swell a bit, and then recede, the ancestral blessings warding off death.
I pick Joan up onto my shoulders, and carry her outside, but as I rise, I take a good look around the entry chamber. There are torches placed fairly evenly along the walls, for even goblins find firelight helpful in the darkest places…lest they stumble into a centipede or a lurking spider’s trap. But the sight of more than two dozen half butchered goblin women and children causes my heart to sink. They are strewn about an area filled with sleeping pallets and and other supplies, yet the guards were simply laughing and talking amongst themselves a short distance away. And there, above the carnage, the image of their horned god, “Deathbringer” looms over the scene, painted in blood once more.
There is a tunnel leading in the opposite direction, further down into whatever madness has taken root here.
Stepping back into the daylight, I call for one of the horsement to help me with Joan. The man comes over and helps me get her laid out on her bedroll. The sergeant then walks over and sneers, “Battlefield’s no place for a girl like that.” He’s not wrong, but I’ve seen many women warriors more than capable of holding their own. Rare maybe, but certainly not unheard of, and this girl, small she may be, has more courage than the heavily armored men that sent her and I down ahead of them.
Angered by his words, I answer, “Girls don’t have to fight, when armored men have the courage to lead!”
“Pah, stupid poachers,” he says, turning away from us. I sit next to her as she comes around. She is groggy, and weak, and will likely need a few days to recover, but she is in no danger of death. So I simply tend to her while I wait for the rest of the company to arrive. But then, I notice movement inside the cave. The knight standing watch doesn’t seem to have spotted it.
–Mythic Progress on ‘Orcs, goblins and trolls hope to unleash a demon’: the Praise of Success–
I grab my bow, take aim, and put an arrow through the neck of a goblin skulker. There is a huge shout from within the cave, which then vomits forth a horde of of screaming goblins! My next shot flies over their heads, as the dismounted cavaliers leap to their feet and hurl themselves against the savage humanoids. I stay by Joan’s side while she fumbles for her blade, and I put an arrow in another goblin’s gut sending him stumbling to the ground.
But the fight is over in moments. Andalian knights in battle are a spectacle to behold. With shield, blade and heavy armor, they make short work of theie Foes. Without overwhelming numbers in their favor, the goblins were horribly outmatched. As the last few retreat, the knights charge forth after them…into the cave! I immediately start scanning the surrounding woods, for if there is a warchief guiding the goblins, it is likely that rush was simply bait for a trap!
–Positive for Piotr Trollscar: the Opening of Business–I’ll come back to this in the future–
I hear yelling from inside the cave. “Trolls! Fall back!” There is the clang of steel, roars and shouting. I carefully help Joan get up onto her horse. There is fear in her eyes. I take her second mount, and we wait.
The sounds of fighting shift to cries of victory..troll cries of victory! My eyes narrow as I look for any sign they might come out of the cave, but there is nothing. Just the shouting…the jeers and taunts. Cries of “Ascension awaits! We bring death for the Deathbringer!” The shouting slowly fades as the trolls must be retreating deeper into their cave.
“Will they come for us?” Joan asks, her face white, slumped into her saddle. I shake my head no, and tell her they are staying in the shadows for now.
The rest of the company arrives shortly before lunch time. The company commander, who drafted me as a scout, spots us, then looks over at the abandoned horses, notes the lack of men by the cave entrance, the goblin corpses, and then looks back towards us before he and the battlemage come over.
“Trollscar! What happened, where is Sir Evenstad and his men?” I nod towards the cave, and tell him they sent Joan and I inside to scout, though I told him your orders, and after we killed the guards and fell back, the goblins launched a feint, and lured Evenstad and the others back into the cave. We heard trolls, and him yelling for the men to fall back. Then nothing.
The battlemage nods grimly. “To defeat trolls, your men must use fire. I doubt they were able to strike torches
if they were ambushed. Tell the men at arms they must be ready.”
“Lord Camden,” the captain replies, “My men will be ready, but the tip of our spear has been broken. We don’t know how many trolls and goblins lurk within, but we know they are well led. They have the advantage.”
Spotting Bernard, who apparently decided to tag along with teh expedition, I lead Joan on her horse over to him. I tell her who she is and ask him to look after her for me, in case I am part of the group sent inside. He jokes that I’ll show those goblins a thing or two, but I just shake my head, “There are worse things ahead of us than that!”
The Captain hollers over to me, “Trollscar! You go in with Sergeant Timmons in the lead group.” I look to see the man who was mocking me the day before, and reluctantly join his company. Half of the men carry torches in their off hand, while the rest have their shields at the ready. Timmons challenges me to prove my sash was rightly earned. I roll my eyes.
We step inside the cave. There is blood everywhere, but no sign of the missing men. The dead goblin women and children are still present, and I point out the image of the Deathbringer and suggest that this must be the creature they worship, and are trying to summon forth. He scoffs at the goblin superstitions. We press inward. At first, there is but one way to proceed, but then the tunnels fork and veer downward.
I hear a gutteral voice echoing ahead, “Keep coming flies, bring yourselves to your deaths…” in troll. Timmons and the others seem unnerved by the sound, but don’t seem to understand the words. I point out an arrow trap some goblin had set to guard the passage we are following, and our men all step past the tripwire, easily spotted with all of the torches present.
Though there are many side passages, our commanders, Captain Desearant and Lord Camden, keep our force together, on a single path. “Press forward” or “Take the right passage” Orders are relayed to us at every junction by runners, while the command group remains some distance behind us, expecting an ambush at any time.
We pass by abandoned storage rooms, kitchens, sleep rooms. A group of slaughtered orc women and children, much like the goblins before. Symbols of the Deathbringer painted in blood on the walls here and there. Thee occasional trap, but no resistance. I hear goblin, troll, and other whispers as we push our way down below. “Don’t you want to play? Why don’t you come this way? Death is before you and death is behind!”
Finally, we come to a great cavern filled with towewring crystals that sparkle in a rainbow of colors as the light of our torches dances around them. There is water covering the floor, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, there are pits beneath the surface…a man could easily drown in his armor if he stepped into one! There are lights on the far end of the great cavern, the light of a great bonfire before a demonic statue. Goblins, trolls, and orcs dance before it. There are human villagers, men women and children, tied to wooden stakes around it. They cry out for help, or offer prayers to the ancestors, or they know they are nearing their end. And there are warriors arrayed against us. Goblins, some on wolves, many more ready with shield and bow. A small handful of orcs, eager for the fight, and at least a dozen trolls…fearless, invincible.
I slide behind a crystaline oucropping while the armored men form their line. The chanting up ahead grows louder, and as Captain Desarant raises his hand to signal the charge, we hear the sounds of battle horns behind us as a large body of orcs falls upon our rear, as the enemy in front of us joins their charge.
Then the entire cavern seems to erupt into flame, as a great wall of fire appears behind our lines, catching the orcs mid-charge, and also before us, ripping through the closing rank of trolls and goblins. There are cries of anquish and goblins and orcs are burnt to death, and curses as trolls recoil from the flames, nursing wounds that will not heal! “Advance!” caommands Captain Desearant, and ranks of men begin to advance. Only a handful of orcs made it through the flames, and a small rearguard deals with them while the main body moves towards the demonic shrine ahead.
I move forwards, staying the the dancing shadows. The air grows thick with smoke from the billowing flames. The acrid stench of burnt flesh fills my nose. My eyes water. Great sphers of flame leap from Lord Camden’s outstretched hand, causing trolls to scatter in fright, just as our line reaches the wall of flame that seperated our lines at the start. That wall collapses as the first soldier reaches it, but the one holdnig the orcs at bay remain. The soliders surge forward, cutting down goblins, wolves and trolls with great ease, each shieldbearer guards his neighbor, and the torchbearers strike at the trolls, until there are no more left standing. But there are more goblins than man can count, and their frenzied assault is hard to withstand.
I focus on reaching the altar, sneaking around to the side, and trying to fight my way towards teh shamans. Several goblins spot me. The first falls to an arrow, but then they are on me. My daggers are quick, and the goblins are rather clumsy with their spearsand cudgels. One slash, duck, roll, then hamstring another. Run down a fourth, and meet the fifth head on, throw a dagger through the eye of a fifth, and then stab his companion as he runs to intercept me. I don’t get to the altar fast enough to save one woman, but as her heart is pulled from her chest, my dagger pierces her killer’s through his back.
–E: Progress on ‘Orcs, goblins and trolls hope to unleash a demon+’: the Return of New ideas– I had already rolled that we’d arrived in time and the the army would stop the ritual, so apparently, the goblins do summon the Deathbringer, but then he is banished—
The sound of clashing steel ebbs, and the fiendish chanting fades as the last goblin falls. The trolls are no more, and the orcs have retreated back up towards the surface. Lord Camden and Captain Desarant approach the great altar, now pulsing with a hideous energy as the blood of innocents and their killer alike, drain towards the open mouth carved at its base. The great four-armed demonic statue behind the altar seems to glow with a fiendish purple light, it’s carved muscles ripple, and suddently, it stands upright as our men step back in dread.
The statues speaks in its infernal tongue strange words that make my ears hurt. Lord Camden replies in the same tongue, and a great black circle opens up behind the statue, within it, one can see a desolate realm of ice and darkness beneath a fiery red sky. The statue cries out as if in pain, and is swept backwards through the portal, which seals and vanishes into nothingness.
The walls of flame vanish. Soldiers tend to their wounded and fallen comrades, some make sure the trolls are truly dead, while goblin wounded and corpses are simply tossed into the deep waterholes. Lord Camden and his captain walk around the altar, the battle mage studying it, and the captain studying him. I look over the men, women and children whose hearts were brutally ripped out to summon the Deathbringer to our realm.
Then I notice that one man survives. He is an elderlay man, crying, quietly, his arms bound to a pole and his chest bared with markings of the dark god drawn in blood over his heart. The goblin that should have slain him lies dead at his feet, a crossbow bolt found him! I cut the man down, carefully, and he cries, “All dead! All of my children are dead! My wife, my sons, my daughters, my grandchildren…all dead!” I take him in my arms and walk him down from the altar.
Along the way, i encounter Sergeant Timmons, “Well, you stood your ground! Didn’t run off during the fighting, let us down here. I suppose not all poachers are worthless cowards,” he sneers, half a smile on his face. I tsk and tell him that if he wants to be taken seriously as a soldier, he’ll need to try harder to get his pretty little face scarred up. Try to get closer to the trolls next time before some wizard kills them all with fire! He laughs and gets back to his men, who are policing bodies and checking goblin purses for loot.
Quiet 17-31th day 38 degrees, 18″ of snow on the ground, feel wind on skin, leaves rustle, weathervanes begin to move
The procession back to Tellog was a somber one. In addtion to the ten knights-errant who were first to enter the cave, another three score men at arms and mercenaries were killed in battle. For every man who walked home, wounded our uninjured, two more more were dragged behind, wrapped in their cloaks, on makeshift sleds or draped over their mount. Had it not been so cold, they would likely have all been buried there!
Captain Desarant was silent throughout the march. Lord Camden was nowhere to be seen. When we left the cave, I found Bernard, and Joan, hiding. They and other camp followers had seen the orcs come into the cave from outside, but did their best to remain unseen, surprised the creatures did not kill the horses as they passed by. Then they saw the orcs flee in terror when the battle was lost, carrying some supplies, but without any women and children. I then told them what the creatures had done to their females and young.
At Tellog, the jubilant shout that went up when we were first sighted was replaced by silence as our procession entered the village. The only sign of joy was when the old man we saved was united with his grandson, who he had thought lost. At least he knows his family endures and at least the child is not alone.
A blizzard rolls in the next day, but after it passes, the surivors return to Estkap, leaving their dead in an emptied barn to be buried as soon as the earth thaws, or for their kinsmen to retrieve. Bernard travels with them, for the larger town is a better market.
I stay at Essie’s tending to Joan. There is no real reason to tie myself to her, but for wanderers like us, friends are few and far between. Essie gives us a discount on healing herbs, and does not charge us rent. I go hunting several times, but have no luck. It is almost as though a spell that had drawn game to the region to sustain its invaders has now been broken, and game has fled the area where hellspawn stepped forth. Fortunately, between the food I took from Telphye’s camp, and what Joan and I had in our packs, we do not go hungry, adding to Essie’s stews each night in good measure.
At the Feast of Remembrance, I sit with Glogin, Essie and Joan, and tell them of my parents. How they lived and died. Joan shares memories of her father, and Essie talks about her parents, how her husband died, and we light candles in honor of those who went before us and whose blood and honor we carry within our veins.
A fortnight after the battle, Joan’s has finally completely regained her strength. “So, you never back down from a fight?” she asks me, after I finish telling her a story of a brawl I’d fought in some tavern years ago. I shrug my shoulders, and explain that it’s hard to turn tail, when you know it leaves someone else to take the blow. “But you also didn’t hurl yourself recklessly after those knights when they fell into the goblin’s trap.” she pries. I chuckle grimly, and answer that I am steady, not foolish. She laughs.
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