— "interesting." And now they were talking about weaponry, a subject that would have much attention paid to it when they reached the Knights' Meeting.
Soth was of a mind that there was more to weapons than simply a broadsword and shield. While they would always be the chosen weapon of the Knights of Solamnia for close man-to-man fighting, there were other weapons in development across the continent that would prove most effective should there ever be another large-scale war.
"A broadsword is a fine weapon," said Soth. "No doubt about it, but the great Huma Dragonbane proved that battling certain enemies requires specialized weaponry." "Perhaps," said Caradoc, obviously not ready to fully concede his point.
"Take elven weapons for example," Soth continued.
There were still many long hours ahead of them and conversations didn't necessarily have to end just because the other party was partially in agreement. "I hear talk that they have developed several types of arrowheads for use with their crossbows: a narrow spiked head for piercing armor; a heavy ironwood head for bashing; a razor-sharp Yshaped head for cutting ropes, banners, legs and arms; a flanged leaf-shaped head for inflicting the maximum amount of damage; and a "singing" head that is fitted with a hollow tube that creates a piercing shriek when its fired."
"Really?" Caradoc's eyes opened wide, perhaps in terror of the weapon, perhaps in amazement over its ingenuity.
"Yes, a dreadful weapon if there ever was one."
"I would be interested in seeing such a weapon." "Eiwon van Sickle has told me that there will be examples of them on display in Palanthas.
Demonstrations are scheduled as-"
Soth's words were cut off by a scream.
A woman's scream.
Instinctively, all the knights stopped in their tracks and listened for the sound again.
Moments later there was another scream, this one more faint and less sharp than the first. It was coming from somewhere up ahead and to the left. Soth looked in the direction and saw that the trail crested slightly in the distance. On the left of the trail the tops of several trees could be seen peaking over the horizon. The dip on the other side of the crest had to be fairly deep considering that the valley had given rise to a small forest in the midst of the plain.
There was yet another scream, this one different from the first two.
Obviously there was more than one woman in peril.
Without a word, Soth gave his mount a kick in the ribs.
The large, black horse shot forward and was quickly running at full speed toward the forest.
And without even losing a step, the knights were right there with him, three on each side.
Soth slowed as he came over a crest. Below he could see what looked to be an encampment. It was a small clearing at the edge of the forest, a place where many travelers had rested on the road between Palanthas and Dargaard Keep.
Except these travelers were not resting. Judging by their screams, it sounded as if they were being tormented.
But by whom?
Soth cut to the left and headed for the edge of the forest in the hopes that the knights could reach the woods without being seen. After slowing to assess the situation, he stepped up the pace again. Time appeared to be of the essence.
Upon reaching the edge of the forest, Soth gestured to Colm Farold to take two knights around the other side of the woods while Soth and the three remaining knights went to investigate what was going on in the clearing.
The forest was small and in no time Soth and his knights had circled back to the clearing. When the camp came into view, things suddenly became clearer.
Much clearer.
Whoever had made camp had been ambushed by a small party of ogres. Soth could see one of the brutes, holding someone to the ground. The screams coming from the person beneath the ogre sounded muffled, yet the terror contained within the scream was real.
Soth dismounted and ran to where the ogre wrestled to subdue his victim.
Drawing his sword as he approached, he gave the brute a kick to the ribs to announce his arrival.
That seemed to get the ogre's attention.
He rolled off his victim and onto the grass. An elderly elf-woman lay on the grass, eyes wide with fright, body trembling in fear.
The ogre held his midsection tightly and struggled to catch his breath.
When he looked up and saw Soth towering over him, he searched the ground for his weapon, but it was too far away to be of any use. Quickly he stood up and prepared to fight Soth with his bare hands.
Soth wasn't about to battle an unarmed opponent with his broadsword, but then what constituted a fair fight with an ogre? Thankfully, the ogre settled the matter himself by picking up a sturdy nearby branch, using it as a pike.
The ogre thrust the branch forward, but Soth was able to deflect the blows with his shield. Then the ogre decided to sweep the ground with the branch hoping to knock Soth off his feet. Soth was able to step quickly enough to avoid the sweeping branch, then managed to go on the offensive while the ogre was bringing the branch back into position.
Wielding his sword with a single hand, Soth brought it straight down upon the ogre. But instead of splitting the beast in two, the blow was blocked by the branch, which only chipped and splintered.
After several near misses for each of the combatants, Soth was able to execute another overhanded blow. Again the ogre protected himself with the branch, but this time the blow broke it in two, giving the ogre two too-short clubs and rendering him once again weaponless.
This time, however, Soth had no qualms about battling an unarmed ogre.
While the ogre was still looking dumbfounded at the broken wood in his hands, Soth lunged forward running the beast through with his sword.
After crying out in pain, the ogre looked at Soth with a mix of shock and terror for several long moments before Soth wiped the look from his face with a backhanded swipe of his shield. The ogre's eyes suddenly glazed over and turned upward as he fell heavily to the ground.
Dead.
Wasting little time, Soth ran to the elderly elf-woman who had been helped off the ground by Darin Valcic and Zander Vingus. Apparently, as
Soth had been finishing off the ogre, they'd made sure she wasn't in any danger, then ventured into the forest in search of more of the foul beasts.
"Are you all right?" Soth asked, seeing a thin line of blood running down from her pointed left ear.
"I think so," she nodded, her eyes staring blankly before her. "We're on pilgrimage to Palanthas," she said. "To become Revered Daughters of
Paladine." A sigh. "We stopped here for the night. We were just about to begin our prayers when… when… they came."
"How many ogres were there?" asked Soth, his voice as calm and soothing as he could make it under the circumstances.
"Five or six. Maybe more. It was so hard to tell, they all look so much alike. Hideous, horrible…" The shock of her ordeal was beginning to settle in and she began to weep.
Soth had to know one last thing.
"How many in your party?"
"Five. Myself and… four young maidens." She drew in a sudden gasp in realization. "Oh merciful Mishakal!
What's become of them?"
Soth knew the woman needed further comfort, but there were others in greater danger. If there were ogres in the forest, his six knights would need all the help they could get in finding and defeating them.
"Will you be all right on your own for a short while?"
The question seemed to give the elf-woman reason to compose herself. She sniffed once and nodded. "Go find the others. I'll be well enough."
"Good," said Soth, rising up and heading into the forest.
"There's two of them over there," said Colm Farold, pointing to a small clearing just through the trees.
"Three," said Wersten Kern, pointing to the right side of the clearing.
"So there are."
Kris Krejigaard came up behind the two knights after circling th
e clearing. "It looks as if they've captured a group of elf-maidens. Two of the women are tied to trees just past those bushes. They appear to be unharmed, but it's hard to tell from a distance." "Any other ogres?" asked Farold.
"Not in the immediate area," answered Krejigaard. "I heard some voices in that direction, but Caradoc was over that way and further along should be Vallic and Vingus."
"Very well then," nodded Farold. "We'll sweep through the woods in that direction once we're done here. Did you see any weapons?"
"A few clubs and swords, maybe some daggers.
Nothing out of the ordinary for ogres."
"Anything else?"
"There's a formidable foul stench downwind of them. It burned my eyes and seared my throat."
Farold turned to Krejigaard and gave a little smile. "All right then.
There are some maidens in distress. Let's save them, shall we?"
The three knights rose up proudly, drew their swords and rushed into the clearing with a loud, sharp battle cry.
There was the sound of running water up ahead. That seemed strange to
Caradoc because he hadn't seen any creeks or streams cutting through the forest.
He took two more cautious steps forward, using his broadsword to part the overhanging branches ahead of him.
And then there he was.
An ogre.
Relieving himself against a tree.
The ogre's weapons were lying on the ground several feet away. Caradoc laughed inwardly at the sight. Such a vulnerable position for an ogre to find himself in-for any warrior to find himself in for that matter.
He took a few more steps toward the ogre and smacked his hairy behind with the flat side of his broadsword.
"Ow!" cried the ogre, turning around to see which of his fellows had been so brazen. When he saw Caradoc he was suddenly in a hurry to finish relieving himself, but his body didn't seem to be cooperating.
Caradoc couldn't help but laugh at the ugly brute as he struggled to finish his business while he hurriedly tried to collect his weapons off the ground.
"If you were at all familiar with the Oath and the Measure," said
Caradoc, a bit of smug confidence to his voice, "you would know that it is against the Knights of Solamnia's code of ethics to battle an unarmed opponent in anything other than a fair fight."
The ogre seemed to be comforted to hear this and calmly went about finishing his business against the tree.
The beast's sudden casual demeanor angered Caradoc.
It was obvious that the ogres had attacked innocent and defenseless travelers, robbing and looting them, and Paladine only knows what else.
In just a few moments they had turned an otherwise peaceful journey into a nightmare of horrors. And now the ogre thought he'd be getting a fighting chance just because the knights happened to be governed by a strict and chivalric code. Well, it was obvious to Caradoc that the ogres lived by no such honorable code of conduct, so why should he be bound by honor in a fight with one of them?
"But since you've probably never even heard of the Oath and the Measure," Caradoc continued, his voice now edged with a hint of contempt. "I see no good reason why I should remain bound to it."
Caradoc immediately raised his sword and swung it from left to right, the sharp cutting edge leading the way.
Almost at once, the ogre's head became separated from its shoulders. It spun in the air and hit the ground with a thud, its mouth open and its eyes wide in a look of utter surprise.
A moment later, the ogre's great body fell to the ground like a tree, covering the upturned head and face with its trunk.
"Stupid savage," said Caradoc, wiping his bloody sword on some of the leaves around him.
Just then, a loud call came from somewhere to his left.
He headed in that direction, the pointed tip of his sword leading the way.
After leaving the elderly elf-woman behind, Soth quickly came upon two more ogres, one a black-haired giant standing a head taller than Soth himself, the other redheaded and somewhat shorter than the first, perhaps even equal in height to Soth.
The black-haired ogre was holding an elf-maiden in his arms, moving his great thick-fingered hands over her seemingly lifeless body. If the elf-maiden was dead, Soth vowed, the ogre's death would be slow and painful. The red-headed ogre seemed to be asleep on the ground on the other side of a large log. He was of little concern to Soth.
Soth decided to battle the black-haired ogre first and charged headlong in that direction.
Seeing Soth approaching, the ogre dropped the elfmaiden onto the soft layer of humus covering the forest floor. In another second he was up on both feet, sword before him and ready to fight. The ogre wielded a heavy clabbard style of sword, a type of weapon most often used by minotaurs, but just as easily wielded by large and powerful ogres. Soth noticed the weapon, saw the cutting edge backed with a serrated saw-toothed edge that could cut through his leather armor with ease, and suddenly became more cautious. Obviously, these ogres were much fiercer warriors than the ones they'd encountered in Halton. These were nomadic marauders, used to fighting-and defeating-an assortment of foes.
That fact was evidenced as Soth realized that this ogre wasn't about to show Soth any amount of respect or proceed with any caution. He lumbered forward, swinging his clabbard sword as easily as Soth might wield a dagger.
Soth held out his sword in an attempt to slow the ogre's progress, but to no avail. The ogre kept charging, forcing Soth to leap to the side.
He was almost out of the way, but was caught by the ogre's shoulder. The hard impact sent Soth flying backward through the air. He landed with a hard thump that nearly knocked the air from his lungs.
As Soth clambered to get back to his feet, he felt his clenched hands gather up soft dirt and leaves from the forest floor. For a moment he considered blinding the ogre by throwing the mix into his eyes, but decided the tactic was too foul and very much beneath him. Instead he found a large rock about half the size of a loaf of bread and picked it up. Then as the ogre made a second charge, Soth threw the rock at the ogre's head.
The rock's flight was true, and when it hit the ogre's forehead, the sound it made reminded Soth of solid rock colliding with solid rock.
Following the blow, the ogre stumbled a few more steps then stopped, blinking several times as if unsure where he was. Soth let out a slight sigh of relief and felt pleased with himself at recalling the squire's second rule. Simply stated it was this: No matter how well-armed or armored an opponent is, he can still be killed by a simple blow to the head.
This ogre wasn't dead yet, but he was dazed.
Severely so.
The ogre staggered forward, then back, then forward again. Soth followed his path for a few moments, then decided he'd had enough. With the ogre so incapacitated, it was a simple matter to run the beast through with his sword.
When the fallen ogre was lying still on the ground, Soth moved forward to take a better look at the creature.
He took one step… And was sent hurtling forward by a heavy blow to the small of his back. As Soth tripped over the fallen blackhaired ogre, he realized he'd forgotten about the redheaded one sleeping on the other side of the log. When Soth hit the ground, he did his best to roll and rise up to his feet, but several of his ribs were bruised and any sudden movements sent pain shooting up through his body.
Yet despite the pain, he somehow made it onto his feet and managed to turn and face his attacker.
Thankfully the red-headed ogre was the smaller of the two. But even so,
Soth would have been hard-pressed to defeat the ogre at the best of times. Now, with his bruised, or perhaps even broken ribs, the ogre would prove to be more than a match for him.
"The forest is full of Knights of Solamnia," said Soth, hoping to scare the ogre off and avoid having to fight him at close quarters. "If you turn and run now, you'll be able to leave this forest with your life."
The ogre simply laughed, a loud
mocking call that boomed through the woods. Soth said nothing, hoping the ogre's laugh would rally the knights around him.
But as the seconds passed, Soth began to get the feeling that he was alone in this fight. Very well then, he thought, raising his sword to confront the beast.
The ogre also carried a sword, one that was slightly wider and longer than Soth's own. Usually this would put Soth at a disadvantage, but it appeared that the ogre was unable to wield the weapon without the use of both hands, which might be enough to tip the balance in Soth's favor.
"Only one way to find out," he muttered, moving forward to confront the beast.
Almost at once their swords came together, clanging and singing as they banged and scraped against one another with each mighty blow. Soth quickly realized that it would be impossible for him to match the ogre blow-for-blow.
Instead he began moving left and right in order to avoid having to counter as many blows as possible. Soon the ogre began to tire, his movements becoming wilder and wilder with each progressively sluggish swing of his sword.
Frustrated, the ogre held his sword before him and charged at Soth, most likely hoping to get close enough to render their swords useless and to force them to switch to wrestling and barehanded fighting. Needless to say, Soth wanted no part of that, given that he was in no condition to try and kill an ogre with his bare hands.
So, as the ogre came toward him, he ducked down to the ground, falling on his hands and knees and turning himself into an obstacle too large for the ogre to avoid.
Soth winced in pain as the ogre's heavy shins slammed into his side, but the tactic had paid off. Like a tree cut off at its stump, the ogre began to fall.
By the time the beast hit the ground, Soth was already on his feet towering over him. The ogre was dazed by the fall and had even cut himself by falling on top of his own blade. The wound wasn't enough to keep him down however, and Soth had to quickly see to it that the ogre would never be getting up again.
He clasped both hands around the upturned hilt of his sword and drove the point of his blade downward with all his might, through the ogre and into the soft ground beneath him.
Lord Soth w-6 Page 11