Bourne had ridden in his splint maille all day and wanted now to simply remove it and stretch out on the ground before the warm fire. Instead, he sat with his back to a tree and quietly oiled his weapons. His beloved sword was always at hand and he had to force himself to not neglect his other weapons. Hand axe and bow were important survival tools as well as a sword that could pierce the hide of any devil, demon, or fiend in existence.
Hmm, the horses were moving around too much. Was that branches rustling or the wind? A twig snapping? He readied his sword but left his shield as he got into a crouched position and crept over to wake the others. Many manner of creatures had eyes that could pierce the darkness and see into the night, however most things could not and that included men. "Strom, see if there is anything moving around in those trees."
"Aye," he replied still not fully awake. "I'll have to get away from the fire to do so," he said as he moved off, his short sword in hand.
Beneth opened his eyes but remained motionless. He whispered in very plain wood Elvin, "Is something afoot?" Bourne nodded and kept low and at the ready. Beneth came fully out of his trance and pulled a wand from his robes. He, too, moved away from the fire to see if the ensuing darkness around them would give up her secrets. Suddenly, the horses whinnied loudly and several large beasts burst into the campsite from two sides. "TROLLS!" yelled Bourne as he leapt up and slashed at the first of them.
Beneth knew all of the lore concerning Trolls. He had studied them while still a novice magician. Theories of their origin seemed to settle on them being indigenous to the Prime Material Plane but from another world that was tremendously hostile, thus making their ability to constantly regenerate a dire necessity for survival. While not particularly difficult to kill, they could overrun a group simply with sheer numbers.
The largest Troll in the first wave of attackers came straight at Beneth with its arms reaching out to grab the wizard. A few key words spoken just so caused the wand in Beneth's hand to fire a volley of glowing missiles at the beast which immediately stopped its charge. It crumpled to the ground and quickly died. Beneth leapt back while chanting the incantations to a more dire spell and let loose a bolt of lightning at the next creature just before it had moved within its pummeling range. Much to the wizard's surprise, the bolt did not kill the creature outright. However, a dagger, undoubtedly launched by Strom, planted itself in the creature's neck which did slay it.
Beneth had just enough time to look over at where Bourne was and see him surrounded by at least four Trolls with his sword quickly doing its work. "That won't take him long," mumbled the wizard and then he had to take up his quarterstaff and dodge yet another Troll as it made a swipe at him. The creature's claws caught his arm, tore through his robes, and left a deep scratch. Beneth returned the swipe with a blow of his own but the Troll deflected the staff thrust. The Troll made another swing towards Beneth but stumbled and missed. Beneth then tried a move that he had been practicing very hard to perfect. He had used it in the citadel to finish off a golem just a day and half ago and it had worked flawlessly. First, he switched his grip on this staff so that he was holding the end of it basically in the fashion of a very long sword. Then, as the Troll swung at him again, he ducked under the creature's swinging arm, stepped forward and past the Troll, pivoted, then in a wide arc brought the end of his quarterstaff down onto the back of the creature's neck. The Troll staggered and was clearly stunned but did not fall down. This gave Beneth an extra moment to make two more viscous attacks at the beast and kill it.
Bourne had heard the magic missiles and lightning bolt being cast and he would have very much liked to have been by his companion's side just now. However, the bevy of Trolls that surrounded him would have it otherwise. Bourne's skill was now to a point that he could attack and counter-attack three or four times in the space rather common place beasts could launch but one assault. Also, he now rarely missed connecting with his sword and his opponents had to most heavily rely on their thick scales or armor to protect them from his blows. Unfortunately for the Trolls, they had a rather thin hide, no scales, and wore no armor.
Not using his shield to parry with and taking his hand-and-a-half sword into both hands, Bourne was making rather quick work out of the several Trolls that were trying to kill and eat him while he received only two minor scratches himself. After making a dozen or so full power swings with his blade and dispatching all five of the attacking creatures, he was now able to have a look around to see how the others were faring. Beneth had just finished off what looked to be three Trolls and there were three others laying dead in between the two of them, all of them stabbed in their backs. Strom was nowhere to be seen.
"Is that all of them?" asked Beneth as he readied his wand for another attack.
Strom appeared out of the shadows with a bloodied sword in hand and replied, "Yes and all of the horses are fine, if a bit spooked."
Bourne then grabbed one of the fallen monsters and said, "Very well. Strom and I will collect the Trolls into a single pile. Beneth, would you be so kind as to tend the horses?" After all of the creatures had been arranged and decapitated, Strom put all of their heads into a bag and buried it. All in all, the clean up took rather longer than the fighting had.
It was decided that they would burn the corpses in the morning to keep them from regenerating and awakening to place misery on any other travelers. Setting fire to them in the middle of the night might lure other creatures to the smell of burning Troll flesh which was none too pleasant and almost impossible to sleep by.
The group tended their minor wounds and then returned to sleep and to watch. The rest of the night passed by without surprise or incident. Strom took the next watch and spent most of his time making sure that none of the Trolls grew its head back and attacked the group. Beneth relieved him after a few hours. The dawn found Beneth studying his spell books while the other two dozed.
Strom and Beneth would ride into the city in the morning with Bourne's horse in tow. Bourne would hobble up the main road and through the gates disguised as an old beggar sometime later that day. He would have little more than his sword with him for that is one item that he would not part with.
The disguise of a beggar was not original, lacked panache, and was cliché. Even so, very few people even really noticed old men that looked too poor and shabby to bother with. One of the Dark Lord's cronies or bounty hunters might have given Bourne a second looking over as he entered the city gates since they were always on the lookout for their enemies. So, Bourne had waited for a convoy of laden wagons led by a richly dressed noble to enter in through the gates. Walking beside such temptation, he felt, would impoverish his presence even more. Silk robes, gleaming gems, and wagons full of merchandise could be wonderful camouflage.
By the time the party had met up in the back of a particularly unfashionable tavern, Strom had already sold the large gem for a considerable sum and converted the proceeds to some much needed supplies, Beneth had procured a set of rooms in an out of the way inn, and Bourne had found and retained the services of an old companion of his who was now semi-retired.
"I'm rather pleased with you, Strom," said Bourne taking a swig of ale. "I hadn't expected seventeen thousand rilks from that gem. For less than a fortnight's honest planning and work, that is not a bad haul."
Strom swelled up a bit and replied, "Apparently there is currently a shortage of oversized rubies on the market just now. I felt certain that it was going to have some kind of mystic properties to drive its value upward but I trust the dealer and he said it was devoid of all incantations."
"Earl Devorkin?" asked Beneth. Strom nodded and Beneth then said thoughtfully, "I trust him as well, I suppose. I sensed no power in the gem. But what of the holy symbol? What was its worth?"
At this, Strom looked a bit annoyed and replied, "Well, it is still in my pouch. Devorkin would have nothing to do with it and would not say exactly why. He's a superstitious man in the end, I suppose. I thought Bour... uh, how about 'Ran
cilear'? I thought Rancilear's sage friend could help us find out something about the trinket."
Bourne sighed and said, "Rancilear? All right then. Yes, we can pay Sage Abreret a visit. I hate endangering him with my presence but he does always insist that I visit him when in town."
"Will we be employing our usual measures of decoy?" asked Beneth. With a nod from Bourne the elf then said, "We should make an early start of it to in the morning then."
The party decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the back of the poorly lit, smoky tavern until it was quite dark outside. This was not a tavern for singing and lightheartedness, but the ale was smooth and the beer maiden was quite pleasing to the eye. Tomorrow, they decided, would be a better day for taking more precautions.
A day's ride away and still in the woods not far outside of Urum were the two bounty hunters. They had spent the day looking for clues and questioning the locals of the town about three riders from the day before. Everyone, including (and especially) Lanin, seemed to know nothing at all about them.
Jesul, an older man with a distinctively red tipped nose indicative of the more robust tavern patron, had told Maeven that a very friendly, if clumsy, stranger had bought him an ale the night before. He had also gotten the tavern's waitress and amateur minstrel to sing a rather lengthy Elvin ballad. "And we were just gettin' on so well with the Trumpler song," Jesul said. "But, he weren't all the way human."
A bit more prying around the taverns that afternoon had led Moornam to conclude that the night before in Uram had been uneventful. So, after restocking their supplies from various shops, the two hunters backtracked all of the lesser paths out of the town until they finally found the three horsemen's distinctive tracks headed across the plains.
Huntress Moornam in no way indicated to Maeven that she was disappointed at not finding Bourne wounded in Urum as she had planned. They had ridden all night and had arrived at the town by mid-morning. Admittedly, thought Maeven, riding through the woods at night is a much slower go than during the daylight hours, but Moornam seemed insistent that Urum was the city the three had gone to. Even after a full year of bounty hunting along her side, he still could not decide whether her invariably correct hunches were a product of her feminine intuition or from something in her Orcish blood. He decided he would have to continue observing her until he could figure that out.
Many wise men considered the city of Norec to be a beacon in the wilderness. Its onyx towers, white stoned mansions, tall walls, and orderly citizenry made it a bastion of mankind's power over the chaos of the outside world(s). It was an ancient place full of wonderment and grandeur. It was also not a town for the uninitiated. The wide eyed novice traveler could very quickly be introduced to its dark underside. The legitimate Thieve's Guild, along with the town guard, kept the streets of the wealthy districts free from open hostility and petty theft. They also kept a stranglehold on the more impetuous cut-purse. The poorer sections of the thronging city were, of course, less well guarded against hostilities and less than well polished burglaries. The threat of execution or permanent expulsion from this haven kept the most dangerous of inhabitants and visitors either at bay or cast out from the city.... for the most part.
Strom always walked very wearily in Norec. A trained thief could doubtless assess him as to his occupation at a single glance and that could be very dangerous for a non-guild member. He had yet to commit any real crime in the city, but what did that matter to the guild? Beneth did not mind his appearance so much. He was raised in the forests of the wood elves so he found city life rather forced and unpleasant. He also considered that he probably stood out less than the great majority of the city's colorful inhabitants. The two companions strode down the now day-lit streets of the lower-east part of the city on the downhill side of the sloping hills upon which Norec was built. They wove a path through the streets changing direction often. When they were certain that no one followed them, they ducked into a old shop whose only markings were that of a red eye lined in gold; the mark of the sage.
Once inside the shop, Beneth called out in little more than a whisper, "Sage Abreret, are you here?" From the back room, which had but a thick, black blanket hanging in the doorway to separate the two rooms, appeared Abreret along with Bourne and an older man.
"Sir Ornam, it is good to see you again. You got our early morning message I see," said Beneth.
The Man took a small step forward and bowed slightly to the Elf. Ornam replied with a laugh, "Yes. Always glad to offer my help to you, my friend. It's not quite the same as my adventuring days, but it is well for me to get out of the house and into harm’s way once in a while." At this, all smiled for Ornam had once been a great adventurer in his own right. But, time had taken its toll on him and he and an understanding wife had retired in some mediocre comfort years ago.
The sage Abreret had befriended Bourne at their first meeting. His services had been invaluable to the party and he did not seem to care about the dark forces pursuing them or that their retribution could carry over onto himself.
"What say you about the holy symbol we liberated in earnest?" inquired Strom after all had exchanged a few informal pleasantries.
Abreret bid them sit around the table in his main room, which was his custom when reviewing his findings with clients. He had dismissed his servants for the day as a courtesy to Bourne's situation and for their own safety but he did have a tea service prepared for the party. After exchanging the necessary pleasantries and pouring the tea, he asked Bourne, "How goes your tribulations with the one whom I will only refer to as The Dark Lord (for uttering so foul a name as his is an invitation for ill tidings)."
Bourne replied, "Nothing has changed. Well, the increase in the bounty the Dark Lord has place on me has caused a few more assassins and bounty hunters to lose their misbegotten lives, but that is all. Lolth, curse his name, remains intent on my death. But, enough of this. Please, Master Sage, tell us of this item I brought to you this morn."
"I have not had very long to research this item particularly thoroughly as of yet, however its origin is obvious to me. My business, as you can imagine, is replete with ironies on a near weekly basis but this one is certain to strike you as ominous." All eyebrows raised and everyone exchanged furtive glances. The party had discovered over the years that it was unusual for the sage to be that abrupt and to the point about any topic, but today he was quite quick to speak his mind. Abreret continued, "This object, or talisman if you will, is not really a holy symbol per say but rather a part of a larger whole. In actuality, it is a gem composed of fused octorious and blood emerald stones, neither of which is found naturally occurring on this world."
"So it is valuable," interjected Strom.
Abreret seemed undisturbed by the interruption but did respond to the thief's query. "Not as such, no. You see the item is cursed; rather heavily in fact. It is one of the missing stones from the unholy relic forged by the Cleric who went by the name of 'Shora-diun', which of course means 'The Cadaver' in the language of the Drow. Whether he is the same being who became the Great Lich also referred to as 'The Cadaver' is unknown although I personally think not. Their methods were too disparate and their lists of enemies were very..."
Beneth decided to interrupt the Sage before he went off on too wide of a tangent, "I know this is an area of your specialty, but please tell us more about this relic of which you spoke."
"Ah, yes, the Wereguard Mace. It was forged by Shora-diun himself, made to be a powerful weapon when used against peoples of non-chaotic or uninvolved moralities. It was designed to be used for the good of the demon mobs and not against them."
Ornam said, "'Mob' is the correct word for describing demons. They are such an unorderly lot despising all true authority, law, and decency. I fought against them for many years. Their lords are continually trying to encroach on our plane of existence and take it over to feed their dark desires. They should all be eradicated."
Abreret replied, "Possibly, but possibly not. In
the early history of this world, many things were brought to this plane to fight in what was to be the last great battle between the Light and the Darkness. Each side brought many creatures and beings here from other planes. They fought epic battles which almost destroyed this world and they even opened up the energy planes to draw power from for what would become known as magic.
"The dark forces gated in Hordes of Demons to fight for them. The chaotic were enticed into obedience by promises of being allowed to indulge their selfish desires in exchange for victories. Had not then legions of Devils been brought here as well to fight them, the war would have been lost. By their very nature, Devils were (and are) loyal to their casts and masters. They love order and law above their own desires; albeit using such to better their own positions whenever possible. The Demon hordes were stalemated and beaten back to the Abyss from which they sprang. Now one force balances the other. Darkness befalls darkness as well as Light."
"We have similar tales among our folk," said Beneth. "Elves were brought from their home realms to teach men and aid their armies. Dwarves were brought here to mine ore for weapons and to dispatch the underground Roper hordes. And, demi-gods were said to have been gated in or even created to general each side's forces. I don't know if I believe all of the stories, but I have always supposed that everything must have come from somewhere."
Abreret nodded and said, "Indeed. Men may forget these tales but let us hope the long lived Elves never do. At any rate, Devils and Devil Lords may yet have their place; even the Dark Lord that Bourne now hides from, I am sorry to say."
Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction Page 12