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Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster
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Bastard Son of the great-grandchild of the sister's gibbon's friend of the nephew of the Campaign that Would Not Die, now in 3.75e Møøse Trained By: Hugh Foster |
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After a bit over an hour's travel, the party started to see a fairly significant castle on the horizon, with a central keep and a towered curtain wall surrounding it. As they got nearer they began to pass fields and a farmhouses, and finally came in sight of the gates.
The imposing stone gatehouse was guarded by four men - all human, noted Borax to himself sourly - in typical Stryran armour topped with tabards showing the fist emblem of their order. The gate behind them was open, and they showed only routine interest in the new arrivals as they asked their business. Hearing that they'd come to hire on, they directed them inside and told them to report to the keep door. "Be peaceful, keep your weapons sheathed, we're not at war with any of you," said one, clearly his stock phrase for these conversations.
Inside, the castle looked almost more like a small village. The heavy stone keep built by the Peloric knights bulked in the centre, while a maze of smaller buildings huddled in the lee of the more modern curtain wall erected some time after. These housed the garrison and the associated families and businesses that served them - notably the tavern. Soldiers could be seen here and there, some going about daily tasks, some sparring or training in small groups, others on guard, others loafing about. There didn't seem to be many of them, and men and buildings alike gave off a rather unimpressive air.
Two more guards waited at the heavy doors of the keep, a human and a hill dwarf. "Ah, you want Lieutenant Faran," said the human. He glanced at the dwarf, then headed off into the keep. A few minutes later, he returned with a tall man bearing officer markings. This was the first soldier they had seen that looked as if he knew what he was doing. In fact, he looked like a man doing far too much, but he greeted them courteously. "I believe you've come to hire on?" he said. He invited them into the keep, where effiecient servants provided food and drink to request.
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The inside of the keep proved a complete contrast to the run-down disorder outside. Clean, richly appointed, with racks of captured weapons and banners on the walls.
He explained the contracts available, currently two, both over the border to the north;
The bounty for bandits was set at a hundred marks - Faran coughed and requested that they be sure that the kills were really bandits, though he seemed to feel he could trust Ruby and Borax on this, making him either a shrewed judge of character or a bit of a mug - or just desperate to provide some law and order somehow. Identification he left fairly flexible; heads, right ears, something like that. "What if the head's not there anymore?" asked Ruby. "Heads or tails," suggested Borax, thinking of the ratmen.
He had a standard contract of engagement with him, which covered either or both jobs, and this was signed. It would also confirm their engagement should they encounter any other Stryrans in the frontier, though Faran noted a more senior officer could attempt to commandeer them. "I don't think there's any in the field at the moment," he added.
It was pretty plain that things at the Fist were not normal, and the pair enquired what the problem was. Faran was hesitant, clearly a loyal soldier not wanting to criticize his service or his 'betters', but they did gather that the garrison was woefully understrength - the recruitment budget being unaccountably low - and that the Commander, Baron Garthur Brasshelm, had been diverting his strength into missions into the frontier which could be treasure hunts. Faran came across as a committed, loyal officer, trying hard to do his job with little support and too loyal to say so.
Parting amicably, they followed the trooper Faran sent to guide them to billets they could stay in; "We've room enough," he commented dryly, and got everyone settled in. They then headed over to the garrison's tavern, the Rowdy Rider. There were a few customers, even early in the evening; some farmers from outside, some men in travel clothes and quite a few soldiers, many of them already drunk. Leaning on the bar, Ruby was pleased to note several beers she knew and requested a favourite. Asked if there were any farmers in from the north-east frontier, the barkeep pointed at the travellers on the far side of the bar.
A round of drinks got these talking. They were frontier farmers, here to trade for things not available in Utkinton, and to appeal for military protection from the recent ratman raids in their area. One of their number, one Bipfesh, was a nervous wreck, and it turned out his farm had been raided; the intruders had done a lot of damage, killed two hands and made off with livestock. "Damned ratty things!" he cursed into his beer, hands shaking, "and you know what? Every last one of the gonving bastards was female. Insult to injury!"
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After discussion, the party decided on the "devil bird" hire to start with, and headed off north-west into the driving rain. The destroyed farm wasn't actually far from Aeglor's Fist, strengthening the impression of a garrison not doing its job; this close, raiders should have been discouraged by regular patrols. Calcryx needed some persuasion to leave Ruby's shoulder; he'd put on wait over a month of hoard-sitting, but eventually bounded into the air with a cry of "Good thing t'cold don't bother me anyway!" A popup revealed no movement anywhere within range of his sharp vision.
The place was wrecked, partially burned out and the farmyard churned up by farmers, raiders, Fist troops and rain, leaving no tracks to be found. However, a little to the north-west a patch of soft ground sheltered by trees yielded several firm tracks. These were clearly bird-like feet, but nearly two feet long. There was something else odd about them, and after a while Ruby realized that they were arranged in a manner showing the creature making them had been quadrupedal.
The surviving livestock had been removed, but some corpses remained. Faran had mentioned that the casualties had sustained a mixture of blade and monster injuries, including claw and massive peck marks; the same was true here.
Several hours later, they stopped for the night, having failed to find a handy cave, ruin, roadside inn or even dip in the ground to camp in. Some had tents, even Meepo; Calvis, urban creature that he was, had forgotten to bring one. The only consolation was that the rain stopped towards dawn.
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The next day, they continued towards the location Faran had described. The ground became rougher as they entered the end of a glacial valley, and before long they came in view of the far end. There was plenty of moraine and scattered boulders to cover them as they looked over what they could see. Around two miles west of their position, the U-shaped valley ended in a corrie. Dimly, they could make out ruins in the bowl, and just ahead of them some shapes that might have been tents.
Calcryx soared up and did a high-altitude fly around the valley, returning to report that there were ten tents and ten of what he described as "haystacks"; some sort of oval fibrous lumps around ten feet long gathered around them. Humanoid figures were moving about the camp, but he wasn't sure what they were. One lump and one figure were perched half-way up the side of the valley about a quarter mile from the camp, keeping watch presumably.
Exploring their end of the valley, the Tanks stumbled on the remains of a stone tower. It had weathered away above the first floor, but the moraine and drumlins had protected the lower levels a bit. It was deserted - even the cellar, against their expectations - but basically sound and they moved into it to watch the camp. Looking around, Calvis whistled. "Elvish work this. Pre-Elf Wars elvish; before the Dragon. Very old."
They continued to watch, and after a while noticed the guard change on the sides of the valley. The "lumps" unfolded four long, slender bird legs and stood up, revealed as weird four-legged giant birds which the humanoids mounted and rode away on, to be replaced by another bird and rider. "There's twelve of those things," said Ruby, "and whatever the humanoids are. Let's try and split some off. Maybe wait until they go raiding." Calcryx flipped his wings nervously. "That's when we find out if t'buggers can fly," he commented sourly.
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Two days later, their hopes were rewarded, as amid bustle in the camp seven of the great birds were mounted by two each of the humanoids and came galloping down the valley at a considerable speed. There was a tense moment before it became apparent that they were headed for the end of the valley rather than the old watchtower, and as they thundered past the party got their first really good look at them. The riders were bugbears, equipped with curved swords and long spears, and the birds rather justified the apellation "devil birds" the children had coined.
Watching them until they had disappeared from view, the party set out, looping across to the top of the valley on the north side and coming to the edge above the northern sentry pair. Terence had once more been left behind, hidden in the watchtower, with Brew the Dog told to Guard.
Calcryx had been sent to loop around the head of the valley and come up over the southern ridge, to distract the southern guard and hopefully draw him away from intervening. The little dragon zipped over the lip of the valley, dive-bombed the guard post, blew his icy breath weapon all over the startled bird, turned a backward somersault and hurtled back up out of the valley before they could react. A moment later, bird and rider were after him hell for leather, and the aggravated (and very loud) squawk from the bird had alerted the camp, resulting in another bird with two riders setting out to assist.
 DM Note: I completely forgot Borax' move rate here, he should have arrived with Calvis, but it made no particular difference. |
This was what they'd wanted, and the others lost no time in hurdling their ridge and setting off down the thirty-degree scree slope. The ground was loose and uncertain, challenging their balance; Ruby, Meepo and Borax managed fine, but Calvis tripped and faceplanted half-way down. Despite which, bird and bug were concentrating so hard on events across the valley that they were taken completely by surprise when the pair crashed to a halt behind them and attacked.
Borax, Meepo and Ruby all concentrated on the bird, Meepo halting short of the fight and slapping it with a Magic MissileIt screamed with pain and outrage as deep wounds were inflicted. As Calvis belatedly joined the fray, Meepo repeated his spell, then blinked in bafflement as the energy bolt simply disappeared an inch from the bird's feathers. "Magic resistance!" breathed Ruby. Borax battered it heavily, and then Calvis dropped into place, lashed out with his morningstar and smashed its' beak in. Ruby turned her attention to the rider.
Across the valley, Calcryx had gone to ground and the screams of the northern bird had not gone un-noticed. Both birds turned to race back north to tackle the intruders they could make out on the watch platform, the southern watch bird lagging behind the reinforcements. As Ruby despatched the bugbear she was fighting - noting that these were a lot tougher than the ones in the Sunless Citadel - the others changed to missile weapons and prepared to meet the attack. Both Ruby and Borax sent arrows into the front rider of the nearest bird, not killing him but managing to make him fall off. His status would have to wait until he stopped bouncing, but he didn't look well. His companion continued onwards without a backwards glance.
| DM Note: Unbelievable run of dice for Aimo here; Nat 20, fail to validate, Nat 20, fail to validate but kill; Cleave, Nat 1! |
As the birds reached the bottom of the scree they had to slow their headlong pace, but picked their way up the slope quickly, stable on four legs. The party bombarded them with missiles again, then readied hand weapons as the bird loomed over them, screaming in fury. Ruby's blade flickered in a shower of blood and feathers, but Borax was having trouble aiming upwards with a two-handed flail, and it took him two tries before he downed the bird at last.
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Meepo had switched to shortbow as more reliable than Magic Missiles at range, and was slowly chipping away at bugbears as the second bird and the dislodged rider arrived. Calvis swung his mace rather wildly, and the bird punished him for it, clawing him savagely with a front leg and then delivering a crushing peck. Calvis staggered, badly wounded. At that point, Calcryx piled in from behind, having rejoined the fight by flying back across the valley. His claws and small teeth scrabbled at the back of the bird to absolutely no effect; the thing didn't even seem to notice. Not the brightest wyrm on the block, Calcryx soared away again instead of remaining to flank their foes.
Borax and Ruby attacked the bird again, and this time delivered deep wounds, leaving it thrashing in its death agonies. Ruby rolled her wrists and continued her strike, wounding the rider, who responded by smashing Calvis to the ground where he lay in a heap. Behind Calcryx swooped in again and once more clawed futilely at the bugbear - but this time remembered to stay where he was. Distracted, the bugbear missed his parry and Borax settled him.
Kneeling, the dwarf pulled out some bandages and roughly patched up Calvis' wounds. The Coin woke screaming; clearly Duergar healing is neither kind nor gentle! Recovered enough for magic, he hastily cast a Cure spell to heal himself, though he still looked pretty bad afterwards.
Across at the bugbear camp, this had not gone un-noticed...
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Session Date: 11th May 2026 |
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