by Gary Gygax
Gord motioned, and both men retreated a few yards to where they couldn't be seen or heard by the arboreal guards.
"The main party must have called a halt for the night," Gord commented. "Even though most of them can probably see as well in the dark as in daylight, the dangers of attack by predators are great enough to make those bastards take shelter until dawn."
"I agree," Gellor said to his friend. "Do you still want to try grabbing one of them?"
Gord nodded resolutely. "Let's see about their precautions elsewhere. We can circle around to the left and work our way back here if possible. In the process we can take advantage of any weakness we find."
"Should we wait for full darkness?" the bard asked.
"That will come soon enough," Gord said, "and I am no more eager than those outlaws are to meet some night-prowling monster out after brigand or ore meat for a snack. You've more experience in woods such as these than I do, Gellor. What are we likely to meet?"
The bard looked at Gord with raised eyebrows. "The way you've been going, I was beginning to think that you were ranger as well as thief, acrobat, and swordsman," he said with mock surprise. "And doing well enough at it, too, I must say. No mockery at all, my friend. You are doing well. I am a bit more accustomed to court intrigue or battlefield than to such stuff as this, but I did roam a few forests in my younger days. This Vesve is unfamiliar to me, though. For all I know there could be bears and lions, or barghests and dragons, with everything in between tossed in for good measure. Still, from what I've seen so far, this place is most likely for were-swine and wild losels, with who knows what else."
"Big help," Gord said with a thin smile.
"Consult a sage next time," shot back Gellor immediately.
"Let's get moving," Gord said, seeing no useful direction in continuing the exchange, for both of them were tense and ready to quarrel uselessly. "It is dark enough here on the ground, and light enough above, to give us the advantage over those arboreal sentries."
Gellor nodded agreement, and the two began moving silently through the forest, circling the enemy encampment at a half-bowshot distance. At first they could move with relative speed, for the light from above made it possible to spot the losels with ease. Every other tree seemed to have a pair of the creatures roosting within its branches. After they had completed a quarter of the circuit of the outlaw bivouac, the last light failed, and then they moved more slowly.
"We are nearingthe path again," the bard said in a voice no louder than the rustle of some leaf disturbed by a mouse.
Gord could see the faint gleam of Gellor's enchanted ocular, and the young thief wondered how such vision compared with the power bestowed upon his seeing by the cat's-eye ring he wore. Gord pointed just ahead, crouching low as he did so. The bard did likewise, almost before Gord sank low, for a body of humanoids was moving quietly down the trail, heading south — toward their camp!
Gellor began to slink toward the pathway, moving very fast but making almost no noise at all. This was from his early training in the craft of thievery, thought Gord as he emulated the bard's progress, only covering more distance than he did without any discernible sound at all. "I truly emulate him," thought Gord; thereafter, all of his senses were alert only for signs of enemies. There were perhaps a score of mixed humanoids ahead of them. The tall forms were certainly gnolls, the bulky ones probably were ores, and those that shambled were losels. All save the last group were armed with bows or crossbows. The humanoids could see fairly well in the night, for their eyes were sensitive to heat as well as normal light. The party was moving at a walk and traveling faster than either man could. Soon the humanoids would be out of sight.
"Time to become members of that raiding party!" Gellor hissed as he made for the path at a quickened pace.
"Hunch yourself and strut like a baboon. Perhaps they'll believe us to be losels guarding the rear," Gord murmured. Then they were onto the hard-packed ground of the track and swinging in a loping strut after the score of humanoids already out of sight.
There came no warning call from behind, and the two managed to close with the group ahead without difficulty. They had covered about half of the distance between the enemy camp and the place they had left Chert and his two charges. Something had to be done quickly.
"I'll use druidical spells," Gellor whispered as he hunched along beside his comrade. "This will cause confusion but little harm to these killers, so when I work the dweomers, be ready to do what you can to make them think that there is serious danger."
"I'll be ready!" Gord said, and then he loped closer to the pair of orcish crossbow-armed humanoids who brought up the rear of the column.
As he came near, one of them turned and grunted something to Gord that he couldn't understand. Not knowing whether it was the orcish tongue or just sounds, Gord grunted and waved his arm in the direction from which the humanoid band had come, bouncing as he did this. Uncertain, the man-ore who had turned to see who came stopped his march and so hid his mate. Both peered backward to where a form could just be seen — that was Gellor. Gord knew, working at the casting of a spell to confound these creatures. At the sight of this, both humanoids brought up their already cocked weapons and prepared to shoot their bolts.
While the two were peering intently toward the direction of their own camp to find what their supposed losel comrade was warning them about, Gord was acting. He drew both of his recently acquired throwing knives and hurled them one after the other, with all his strength and skill, toward the retreating backs of the next humanoids in the column. This took but seconds. The two with crossbows thought he was simply gyrating in apish fashion, or thought nothing at all, intent as they were on aiming at their target. Even as his blades were hurtling toward the unsuspecting humanoids, the young thief grabbed one of the half-orcs and spun him. The stupid lout was facing southward before he knew what happened, and as his finger squeezed convulsively on the weapon's trigger he gave a shout of surprise. A gnoll turned quickly at that and took the buzzing bolt full in the eye.
Following this, with motion too rapid for the eye to discern, Gord threw himself down and struck the other man-ore's legs. The humanoid, already distracted, discharged his quarrel upward so that it whipped through leaves and twigs before burying itself harmlessly in a distant tree limb. The startled fellow never had the opportunity to know what had happened, for Cord's sword slew him in the next instant.
Suddenly there were screams from the head of the column, now about thirty or forty paces distant. In the interval between Gord and the main body several things were happening. The crossbow-wielding half-orc stood stupidly looking at the work he had done, for the wounded gnoll was writhing and screaming on the path. Gord's knives had done some damage as well, for another orcish humanoid was down, and the one who had walked beside him was bending over the injured one, removing a knife from where it protruded from the ore's shoulder.
One quick glance backward told him that Gellor was still at his spell-working. Gord unsheathed his dagger and set about his own labor, striking down the man-ore offhandedly in the process. The head of the column had evidently run into something very nasty and painful. Now they were turning in confusion at the cries and shouts from behind. Ducking low, the young thief darted ahead and stabbed at the pair of ores next in line. As he did so, a tall, hyena-faced gnoll leaped into the melee, eager to kill whoever dared to assault his fellows. Gord shoved the ore who had taken a wound from his knife violently backward, meanwhile withdrawing his sword from the corpse of the other humanoid. Ore and gnoll collided, momentarily becoming entangled, and they separated and came for him. Gord met the rush but was brought down under the weight of the two humanoids. A moment later a losel leaped into the fray from a nearby tree limb, adding to the confusion that already existed.
Although he took a vicious bite on the leg, Gord could not be pinned down by weight or grip, as the attacking humanoids discovered to their immense chagrin. The young thief seemed to squirt from the heap of stru
ggling bodies, stabbing with dagger and slashing wide shortsword as he came free. He sprang up, thrust both blades randomly into the mass before him, and then leaped and rolled to a position off the trail. Huge arrows from the bows of the infuriated gnoll archers sank into the three humanoids attempting to rise and follow their slippery adversary. In an instant these three already wounded creatures were done for, pierced by the shafts of their own fellows.
Almost a third of the enemy were accounted for, dead or wounded, and some certain harm had come to those at the head of the company. What more to do? Get away, thought Gord as he heard a loud commotion to the north and realized that the main camp was sending more troops to help die party under attack.
The young thief made a dash for escape, angling slightly toward the humanoid encampment but away from the pathway through the forest's heart. He kept very low and used every bit of brush and tree trunk to cover his movement. Quarrels and arrows whizzed through the woods, but they seemed to be released at random. After covering about fifty paces Gord halted and made a soft hooting noise, a prearranged recognition signal that he and his friends had agreed to when they entered the forest.
When no answering hoot came, but branches near the trail thrashed and bent, Gord moved quickly onward. Gellor would be able to fend for himself, and the losels, anyway, were still looking for those who had attacked their band. Much shouting and noise of running feet could be heard along the trail now, and Gord knew that a considerable reinforcement was coming up. The humanoids might still go on, and there was no need for silent attack any longer. Gord remembered the enspelled acorns that Curley Greenleaf had given him long before, and dug the pair of nuts out of his pouch. Giving a silent prayer to Nature that the missiles would retain their power, he slung both in rapid succession toward the noise and crashing of brush that came from near the trail.
Gord remembered to shut his eyes and avert his gaze even as he whipped the second of the two acorns toward the chosen area. The first one burst before he could manage to shield his eyes. There was a flash that momentarily revealed a mass of humanoid shapes, a sheet of fire and screaming curses, then all was totally black. Gord's tightly shut eyelids had sparks and floating balls of light inside them, but his ears heard the second missile burst, followed by more cries and oaths. He fell flat on his belly and crawled as rapidly as he could, heading in the direction that he was sure was directly away from the enemy.
After a minute or two of worming his way, Gord halted and allowed his breathing to slow to its normal rate, then he willed it even lower and listened. His vision would be useless for some time yet, but his ears were functioning perfectly. There was a lot of noise behind him, so he gave a little sigh of relief. At least he had managed to do that right. What the young thief heard indicated that the humanoids now had officers who were setting about their work with precision and discipline. Orders were shouted, and responses made. Squads were beginning to beat the bushes; there were losels in the trees, and more climbing up from the sound of it. Gord surmised that the enemy encampment must have contained not a few score of humanoids, but hundreds! The attack on their scouting and raiding party had merely stirred them up. Well, no help for that, and at worst Chert and the lads with him would have a chance to get the hell out of the way of the swarm of enemies coming back along the trail.
Suddenly the order of the search was disrupted. There were sounds of terrible squeals and grunting, crashing of vegetation, and then the shouts and screams of the humanoids. They had evidently disturbed more than one wild boar, and the huge pigs were attacking savagely. Gord's exceptional vision was returning now, and he looked toward the commotion as he stood up and prepared to slip eastward and then head back south toward his own camp. Energy, glowing and crackling, was playing about the area. Now Gord cursed, for his special vision was again ruined for minutes, but his normal sight allowed him to judge that at least two magic-users were plying their arts against the ravening swine.
Time and more to be gone, no question. Gord gripped his enchanted shortsword tightly, allowing the power of the blade to surge upward. He could see just as humanoids and demi-humans saw now, a strange illumination of things warm and cold. It was inferior to the power of sight that his ring bestowed, but it was not clouded by the exposure to light from the magical missiles and bolts he had just seen. With this sight, he managed to escape the ongoing battle and slip southward without detection by the enemy.
Because he knew what to look for, Gord had no difficulty finding where his friends had gone. The original site they had chosen was deserted, of course, for Chert could not have failed to hear all the ruckus to the north and acted accordingly. The horses left a distinct trail if you knew that three had been in the place once. There were no droppings around, and a scent of nettles masked odors in the place. The tracks had been brushed, hurriedly but well enough. Gord grinned in admiration as he envisioned the flurry of activity that must have accompanied the process. The hoofmarks led eastward, winding between the massive trees, and then turned south to parallel the trail at two hundred or so yards. After a couple of minutes Gord could hear the faint sounds of hooves and men. He again gave the low hooting call, and this time there was a soft reply from ahead. Then another came from behind! Gord froze, pretending to be a tree. A soft footfall came, then the swishing sound of a disturbed bush. Another followed the tracks left… but was it friend or foe?
Gord heard a snuffling almost at the same time a repeated hoot came from ahead. "Shut up!" He sent this thought wildly in Chert's direction, even as he stared back toward the soft sniffing noise. He saw a losel bent close to the ground, traveling on all fours, while another of its unnatural kind followed closely. The second creature was alertly watching for any enemies as its fellow followed the scent. The challenge was to kill both before either could alert other humanoids nearby. The snuffling one was sure to detect his presence momentarily, so Gord had no time to plan. He simply acted and hoped.
Gathering himself without a sound, Gord sprang as if he were a two-legged cat. As he landed, he brought the point of his sword squarely down upon the crouching ape-ore. It sunk to the hilt into the creature's exposed back, but the young thief allowed himself no glance at the result. He was upon the second losel in the same motion that had enabled him to pierce the first. This creature had turned its head to survey the surrounding area as the two sought their prey. Gord had sprung when he saw this, and the upright ape-ore had no time to utter a cry. His long poniard bit into the creature's throat even as it raised its short club and struck at the attacking human. The bludgeon stunned Gord, and the two antagonists fell together, the losel snapping and tearing at Gord with its dying ferocity, as the young man locked his fingers around the beast's throat and squeezed with all his might to prevent any utterance from its foul throat. The nails digging into his flesh ceased their pressure, and the losel's jaws opened in a gurgle of death.
Just as he was rising and turning to retrieve his blade from the back of the first of the ape-ores, Gord heard scrabbling and gasping sounds from the direction the losels had come. What damned enemy now came? He jerked the sword free and spun, ready to strike.
"Hold," a voice said softly. "I've just done for the third of those things, and I think that's all that followed." It was the bard's voice, and Gord relaxed.
"Chert and the rest are just ahead," Gord whispered to Gellor as his friend stepped into view from behind the screen of brush that had separated them. "I'll signal them that we're coming."
The bard grabbed Gord and made a shushing sound. "Don't do that!" he admonished. "I've heard the losels make a very similar call when they want their fellows to come. It seems we picked a poor sound for recognition," he added ruefully. The two men trotted as quickly as they could, calling Chert's name softly as they went. Fortunately, Chert had been creeping toward the muted noises of combat with the losels, and the barbarian heard and recognized his friends' calling immediately. Together, the three rejoined the two lads and led them deeper into the forest, g
oing directly away from the humanoid pathway that ran through the Vesve's hidden interior. As they went they worked up the whistle of a nightbird as their new recognition call. They wanted no more problems there, for what they faced was sufficient without the addition of bringing losels to them.
"What happened?" Chert asked when they were safely away from any likelihood of discovery.
"Tell us, please;" begged Thatch and Shad. "Did you kill all of them?"
Gord chuckled regretfully. "I only wish we had," he said to his companions. "We managed to bring an end to a half-dozen of those filthy ape-things, and a handful of other stinking humanoids as well, but there are hundreds left, I fear."
Gellor asked Gord several questions about his activity and then related his own work. He had used druidical power to cause the tree roots in the area to form a spiky bed mat had thrust up in the path of the party of marauders. That had been the cause of their consternation while Gord was attacking the rear of the party. The bard had then immediately begun a spell that was potent in the calling of wild things, especially fierce beasts and carnivores. He had had to work at it a long while, but its result was the summoning of a fair number of wild pigs to the scene. The swine, naturally, charged the humanoids, attacking without fear.
"Too bad there were dweomercrafters amongst the enemy ranks," Gord said. "Did you see the response to the boars' attacking? Magic flew thick and fast, I'll tell you. Even wild pigs deserve a better death than that meted out by those humanoids."
"Humanoids and worse," Gellor interjected. "I saw a bit of the display too, and those castings came from no orcish dabbler in the arcane arts. There was a powerful magic-worker there, and one or two lesser dweomercrafters, too."
The lads were listening with big eyes at this talk, but they remained quiet and showed expressions of determination despite all that had occurred. Shad asked in a small voice, "What are we going to do now?"