Episode 71 - That was unexpected
| The Assassins |
Azareth - Wizard 5th Level LE (PC) Craven - Fighter / Rogue 3rd / 3rd LE (PC) Creighton - Fighter 5th Level LE (PC) Keldirk - Rogue 6th level NE (PC) |
| Locale | Donnington Hollow |
| Date | 20th Goodmonth 582 CY |
| Time | Mid-morning |
Craven awoke on the morning of their third day in Donnington Hollow feeling rather seedy, the indulgences of the previous night weighing heavily.
The group had been forced to stay in the small town for longer than expected due to a freak summer storm. Heavy rain had been falling the past four days and the Harp River swelled making it impossible to ford the river, thus the four had remained in town until it was again safe to travel.
Truth be told the delay had proven to be a blessing in disguise as it gave the four of them a chance to reconnect, with nothing to do but wait the assassins had spent their time relaxing and amusing themselves over a somewhat large number of ales. Keldirk entered a darts competition against the local champion and inexplicably missed his final three shots, he failed to even hit the dart-board and thus had to settle for second place and the good natured ribbing of the others.
Keldirk was sure that Azareth had something to do with his loss but was unable to prove anything so, in typical Keldirk fashion, he tampered with Azareth's drinks. The unfortunate mage spent the remainder of night suffering through stomach cramps and other related ailments.
Despite his current state of health Craven was glad that this brief respite had diffused the growing angst among the assassins and had gone a very long way to rebuilding their team spirit. Now all that remained was to recover from the effects of the alcohol and wait for the weather to break and they would be ready to continue their quest.
Despite being on a major trade route from Chathold and Del Mord to Innspa, Donnington Hollow was normally a quiet little village, but the unseasonable weather had caused all of the passing traffic to remain within the area and the town's few inns and taverns were now full of all manner of people. One large merchant caravan had even set up camp on the edge of town and for the most part the stranded travelers spent their time drinking and eating much to the delight of the local hoteliers.
Craven stood from his bed, dressed quickly and went outside. He spotted a barrel full of rainwater and dipped his head inside. The cold was invigorating and after a few repeated immersions he was beginning to feel alive again. He looked up at the sky hoping that the bad weather had cleared and the sun was shining brightly, sadly that was not the case and it looked like they were destined for more rain.
The thought of another night of drinking made his stomach churn but it did give them all another chance to build upon the bonds that had begun to be formed.
Craven looked around and spied the town's lone militiaman; the man looked exhausted and Craven could understand why. With so many strangers in town he certainly had his work cut out for him and over the past four night's Craven had witnessed numerous scuffles break out amongst the patrons and in all cases the town's militiaman was on the scene to break up the fights and eject the offenders.
When did the man sleep?
Craven shook his head as he considered the man's plight. Centralised authority was a concept Craven could understand but when that authority was borne from communal consent it was inherently weaker than authority based in individual power. Still he had to respect a man that stood up for law and order despite the odds stacked up against him.
With a wave the young swordsman approached the man who stood a little straighter and slipped his hand to the hilt of his sword as Craven neared him.
| Craven | Good morning, sir. |
| Militiaman | Good morning. |
| Craven | My name is Craven, I am from Del Mord travelling with my companions towards Tusk. |
| Militiaman | Your first time there? |
| Craven | Yes, I have heard it's a rough place. |
| Militiaman | It is indeed. Though the past few night's here have been a good imitation. |
| Craven | I expect that you are stretched pretty thin, why not conscript some help? |
| Militiaman | (gives Craven an appraising look) You volunteering? |
| Craven | Me? Not at all, but you certainly look like you use the help. |
| Militiaman | True enough. Especially now that the some of the Colours are in town. |
| Craven | The Colours? |
| Militiaman | They are a gang out of Tusk with a nasty reputation. The gang members assume names that include a colour; Green, Blue, Brown, Red. |
| Craven | (mildly surprised) Is one of their members called Furious Brown? |
| Militiaman | (nods) He's the leader. |
| Craven | (barely able to contain his excitement) Is he in town at the moment? |
| Militiaman | Nope, just a few of the others. (eye's Craven suspiciously) Why do you ask? You ain't going to start any trouble are you? |
| Craven | Not at all, Furious Brown and I share a mutual acquaintance, if he were in town I would have said hi. There's no need for concern. |
| Militiaman | Fine then, let's make sure it stays that way. |
| Craven | (yawns and stretches languidly) I think I might rustle up some food. Have a good day. |
| Militiaman | And you to Craven. Stay out of trouble. |
With a smile Craven left and returned to his room. He opened the door and entered to see Creighton in the middle of dressing himself.
| Creighton | What's the weather like? |
| Craven | Looks like we're in for more rain, we're stuck here for another day at least. |
| Creighton | Suits me. I'll be in the bar. |
| Craven | You planning on spending the day there? |
| Creighton | (shrugs) Nothing else to do. Besides, if I get there now I can make sure I get a good table. I think I'll play some dice - who knows, I might get lucky. |
| Azareth | (lifts his head weakly) Can you two please lower your voices? |
| Creighton | Sorry Az, how are you feeling? |
| Azareth | Like my insides are filled with worms, but at least the nausea has subsided. |
| Craven | (to Creighton) I'll meet you downstairs. |
That evening the tavern was crowded again. Creighton did as he promised and spent the entire day inside with a mug of ale his ever present companion along with his dice and a series of hapless opponents. The gods of luck had blessed the burly warrior today and Creighton could not lose.
Azareth spent much of the day in bed, eating little and drinking plenty of water. Keldirk woke late and kept largely to himself, he spent a little time in the tavern where Craven passed on the information he had learned about the presence of the Colours in town. He and Craven decided that they would keep an eye out for the supposed gang members.
So far they had not learned much.
Keldirk entered the tavern soon after sunset, wet and miserable from the rain and moved towards Creighton's table which had become a de-facto base of operations for the group.
| Creighton | You're wet. |
| Keldirk | (to Craven) You find out anything? |
| Craven | Nothing, if they are here they are obviously keeping a low profile. |
| Keldirk | Well I'm not going out there again. |
| Creighton | Has anyone checked on the horses? |
| Craven | (nods) I checked them about an hour ago. They are fine, it's probably more comfortable for them in the stables than it is for us squeezed in here. |
| Creighton | There's no money in the stables, now if you guys aren't going to play then clear off, you're cramping my style. |
Creighton's run of luck continued until his game had captured the attention of the assembled crowd. With little else to do the patrons gathered around the table and watched in fascinated curiosity as Creighton won round after round of the low stakes game.
Craven and Keldirk had long since lost interest and left the large man to his fun. Keldirk had resumed his interest in darts while Craven spent time in the company of some of the tavern's female patrons. They were both distracted from their respective activities by a loud ruckus from Creighton's table.
| Gambler | Nobody can be this lucky! |
| Creighton | (with a wide grin) Settle down mate, there's no reason to get angry. |
| Gambler | No reason? You fleeced me out of twenty gold pieces you ugly oaf and then tell me to settle down. You must be cheating. |
| Creighton | (eyes narrow) You insult me, sir. You call me ugly which I cannot take offence too since it's plain to see but then you call me a cheat. I won't take that, not from you, not from anyone. |
Craven slowly made his way through the crowd which was now focused on the events unfolding at the table. Creighton had taken quite a few people's money today and if things got out of hand he will need all the help he could get.
As Craven neared the table he could see that Creighton's opponent was not alone, at least one other was there to support him.
| Creighton | Did you bring your own dice? |
| Gambler | Yeah. |
| Creighton | Well then, how about we go again using those? I win, you take back your accusation and if you win I give you everything I won today. |
The gambler considered this for a moment then nodded, reaching in to his pouch to retrieve his own set of dice.
Creighton took the proffered dice and the game commenced.
Keldirk too had reached the front of the crowd ready to lend a hand. The wily thief was quite impressed by the way Creighton had handled the situation, quite obviously there was more to the big man than Keldirk gave him credit for.
As the game unfolded it became apparent that Creighton was going to win and his opponent became increasingly incensed. Just before the final exchange he swept the dice away in disgust and stood angrily - a short sword in his hand.
Craven did not hesitate, he quickly drew his own blade and pressed the point of the rapier against the gambler's neck below the chin.
| Craven | If you make a move I will kill you. |
The gambler was clearly not expecting anyone to come to Creighton's aid and was caught completely off guard. He remained still, taking deep calming breaths while he continued to stare at Creighton. It was the gambler's companion who eventually broke the silence.
| Companion | Put your sword down, Green. It's not worth getting killed over. |
The man called Green remained still for a few tense heartbeats then sheathed his sword and raised his hands as he took a step back, away from Craven's blade.
| Green | (spits) You're right Blue, let's get out of here. This ugly bastard aint worth the effort of killing him. (turns to Craven) You won't get the chance to raise a blade against me again pretty boy. |
With that the pair, Blue and Green, left the tavern and disappeared out into the darkness and rain.
Creighton righted the table and had his dice once more in his hand.
| Creighton | Who's up for the next game then? |
| Keldirk | (placing a hand on Creighton's shoulder) I think you're done for the day. |
| Creighton | But I'm on a roll. |
| Craven | You just ran out of luck, finish your drink and let's get some sleep. |
The following day the group found out that their horses had been stolen. They learned from the militiaman that two men who's descriptions matched that of Green and Blue were seen leaving the village just after dawn with the stolen mounts.
Keldirk was beside himself with fury and insisted that the group leave town immediately to give chase. It was not difficult to convince the others to agree, only Azareth was indifferent but he too wanted to recover their lost property and by midday the four assassin's were on the road out of Donnington Hollow in the rain.
| Locale | 25 miles north of Donnington Hollow |
| Date | 24th Goodmonth 582 CY |
| Time | Mid-afternoon |
The unseasonable weather had grown steadily worse in the days since the group left Donnington Hollow and they all cursed, not for the first time, the theft of their horses. The trek north, while still an easy enough road, would have been much easier on horseback but instead was made uncomfortable and miserable by near-incessant drizzle and a cold, biting wind.
The road had long-since turned to mush, and the assassins boots were damp and cold by each mid-morning, heavy with mud. Hooded travel cloaks, well oiled and cinched tightly, helped keep the assassins dry, but also made keeping an eye and ear out for trouble all the more difficult.
Keldirk often called a halt in order to check their trail and to survey the surroundings for trouble. His precautions were at first welcomed by the others, but after a while they soon tired of the frequent stops. Tempers flared at the lack of progress and what most of them considered unnecessary delays.
| Craven | Not again! |
| Keldirk | Yes, again. (preparing to climb a tree) You'd prefer to wander into trouble, perhaps? |
| Craven | Of course not- |
| Keldirk | Then shut up and let me do my thing. |
| Creighton | Come on! Look around, there's nobody is following us. We haven't seen anyone in days. |
| Keldirk | There are other things in the wilderness besides travelers, you know. Is your brain so addled that you've forgotten our encounter with that giant? Plus the scum who took our horses might expect us to follow and could be laying in wait. |
| Azareth | Keldirk's caution is wise, perhaps verging on being overzealous, but wise nonetheless. The wilderness can be dangerous and these conditions make us that much more vulnerable. |
| Creighton | So why are we out here freezing our arses off instead of waiting in Donnington Hollow where its warm? |
| Keldirk | Because nobody steals from me and gets away clean. Those bastards will be stuck on this side of the river like the rest of us and once we find them they will pay. |
| Creighton | (sighs) Fine. But there had better be something to kill at the end of all this. |
Wet, miserable hours rolled into days and before long they were leaving the featureless grasslands behind. They entered low-lying, lightly forested hills, but the change of terrain did little to break the monotony of the walk.
One day, shortly before the assassins were set to break for camp, Keldirk called the group to a halt, ushering them to the side of the road.
| Creighton | Damn, Keldirk, we only stopped ten minutes ago. |
| Keldirk | No, you fool, look! |
Through the trees the assassins saw a strange mist, a blue-green cloud snaking its way through the foliage and towards their position. The cloud was moving fast, too fast to be natural, and the assassins sprung into action.
| Azareth | That is no normal fog. |
| Craven | Aye, let's get out of here. |
But as fast as the assassins were, the mysterious fog-cloud was somehow faster. Heartbeats later the cloud was on them.
| Keldirk | Take a breath and hold it! |
Each assassin felt a slight tingle as the cloud enveloped them, their visibility cut to no more than five feet. Then, suddenly, the fog began to thin and the shapes of trees became visible through the misty shroud. Still holding their breath the assassins moved forward to what they expected to be the edge of the cloud.
As they emerged from the mist it was apparent that something strange had occurred. Instead of being beside the damp road, they were in a forest of silver-birch, a small brook running gently at their feet.
| Creighton | (draws his sword) What in the nine hells just happened? |
Behind the assassins, and stretching into the trees to their left and right was a wall of fog, a storm-gray, gaseous barrier. The assassins stood at the base of a hill, the top of which was obstructed by the silver-birch trunks and foliage.
| Azareth | We've been teleported again. |
| Creighton | Again? |
| Azareth | The Druag'hi test, remember? |
| Craven | You think- |
| Azareth | No, I do not think this is the result of the priests, nor do I think this is another test. But the result is the same - we are no longer where we were, on the road to Tusk. |
| Keldirk | (scanning the trees, and keeping a wary eye on the wall of fog behind him) So where are we, then? |
| Azareth | I have absolutely no idea. |
| Keldirk | We can stand here with our fingers up our arses all day, or we can do something proactive. |
| Craven | (rubs his temples) Why does this stuff keep happening to us? |
| Azareth | Well, we have a few options - we can stay here and camp or we can re-enter the mist and hope we are returned to where we were. Or we can scout the area, go around this hill, either left or right, or we can climb the hill and get a better lay of the land. |
| Keldirk | Let's climb the hill, the more information at our disposal the better. |
| Creighton | (eyeing the swirling wall of mist distrustfully) I don't fancy walking back in there unless we know where we'll end up. |
| Craven | I suggest we follow the creek around the hill, just for a few miles. We might come across a path, or a game trail, or something even more substantial. I'd prefer to remain under the cover of the trees until we have more information at our fingertips. |
| Creighton | (munching on some iron rations, throws the wrappers on the ground) Sounds good to me. |
| Azareth | (nods) |
The assassins picked a direction, left, and began to follow the little stream. More or less it followed the base of the hill, circling around to the right. About a mile into their walk, Azareth raised his hand, signaling the group to stop.
| Azareth | Do you hear that? |
| Keldirk | (stops) No. What did you hear? |
| Azareth | Nothing. |
| Keldirk | You stopped us to tell us you heard nothing? |
| Azareth | Exactly. Listen! No birds, no insects, no sounds of normal life. |
| Creighton | Creepy. |
| Azareth | Most creepy. |
| Keldirk | Well we can't do anything about it, so let's keep moving. |
The stream continued to follow around the base of the hill, meandering through the trees like a silver snake.
| Keldirk | How long have we been walking? |
| Azareth | I say about an hour. |
| Craven | More or less, yes. |
| Keldirk | Don't you think it's strange that it's still twilight? The sun should've gone down by now. |
| Azareth | Good observation, you are quite correct. |
| Creighton | (shudders) This whole place feels wrong. |
| Azareth | I concur. |
The stream continued the follow the base of the hill for another few miles, there were no tributaries and no dramatic deviation in either depth or flow. There were no fish, or insects or any animal life at all to be seen or heard. Creighton checked beneath a large stone sure that he would find a grub, but found nothing but dirt.
Like the stream, the wall of mist followed around the base of the hill also, always some twenty yards to the assassins' left. It was thick and menacing, slowly roiling clouds of light and dark grey, like a thundercloud trapped, shackled and held in place.
Suddenly Keldirk stopped in his tracks.
| Keldirk | No bloody way! |
| Craven | What is it? |
Keldirk kicked the ground with disgust, and launched a discarded iron-ration wrapper into the stream.
| Creighton | Hey, that's my wrapper. |
| Keldirk | No shit. |
| Creighton | (thinks for a moment) We've gone in a circle. |
| Keldirk | Exactly. |
| Creighton | We've done a lap of the hill. |
| Keldirk | (nods) The fog surrounds the entire hill - we're trapped. |
| Azareth | This is a magical realm, no doubt about it. The stream we followed had no start and no end, no feeder streams, nothing - most unusual. |
| Craven | Well, unless we want to plunge into the mists, there's nothing left for us to do except climb the hill. |
| Azareth | All of us? |
| Craven | I think at this stage we should stick together. |
| Keldirk | Alright, follow me. |
As the assassins climbed the hill and the trees began to thin out, exposing the cloudy grey skies overhead. It was an easy climb, several hundred yards and before long the assassins emerged from the last few trees and approached the top. Hunkered down, flat on their stomachs, the assassins crawled the last few yards to the crest and peered over the edge. Atop the hill was a flat, circular plateau, some hundred yards across. The ground was a hard stone, grey and featureless, unremarkable save for the complete lack of plant life.
In the middle of the plateau was a raised bed of black stone, atop of which stood two pillars, reaching twenty or thirty feet into the air. Suspended between these pillars, chained and hung by his wrists, was a bearded man, barely robed and in obvious discomfort.
| Creighton | (whistles quietly) Will you get a load of that. |
| Azareth | I wonder who he is. |
| Creighton | One way to find out. (starts to rise) |
| Craven | (grabs Creighton's arm) Just hold your horses. We can't just wander out there - let's play this smart, learn what we can from here. |
The group watched and waited in virtual silence. The man barely moved and the assassins wondered whether the figure was alive, but shortly after the man had a coughing fit giving them their answer. The man's robes were mere threads, ripped and torn to near uselessness. His boney, malnourished chest was bare, but seemed clear and devoid of fresh wounds. A long grey beard hung listlessly, mattered and dark with foreign matter. He seemed to be in a state of semi-consciousness, never raising his head or paying attention to his surrounds.
Then, some twenty minutes into the assassins' observation, a loud thunder-crack shattered the silence. A black rift opened at the edge of the plateau, further around from the assassins' position, and two figures emerged from the magical portal.
The first figure was a tall and gangly creature of the nether planes - a demon, daemon or devil. Impossibly long legs and arms carried the creature into the plateau, a snake-like tail flicking angrily behind. The creature's skin was a dark red, almost black - the colour of blood ready to clot. Long pointy horns adorned a wicked face, complete with a maw of wickedly sharp teeth and eyes of fire, glinting with cunning and evil.
The second creature was as squat as the first was tall, standing no more than four feet. Also a creature of the lower planes, this figure sported bow-legged, stumpy legs struggling under the weight of a bulbous, fat torso. Scurrying after his taller companion, this creature's fat hands carried a selection of torture instruments - knives, hooks, chisels and worse. Complete with a short spiked tail this creature's cloven hooves carried it along with remarkable dexterity and speed.
Transfixed, the assassins stared as the creatures approached the bearded man. The black portal at the edge of the plateau remained open, white lightning occasionally flashing across its surface.
The taller of the two fiends spoke to the man at length, but the assassins were too far away to hear what transpired. At last, seemingly annoyed, the fiends erupted in measured violence. They slowly tore, cut, ripped and all-but dissected the bearded man, leaving him physically intact but obviously dead. The man's entrails and organs lay on the black stone, steaming in the cool air until finally the two fiends picked up their tools and returned through the portal. The whole process took well over two hours.
| Craven | What do you make of that? |
| Keldirk | I'm fairly sure that the bearded guy has had better days. |
| Craven | No doubt. I mean, where does it leave us? |
| Creighton | You mean besides being trapped in this strange realm, atop a hill with a dead man, a barrier of magical transporting fog and two demons with a torture fetish? |
| Craven | Yeah, besides that. |
| Creighton | (shrugs his shoulders) It leaves us screwed. |
| Normal Text | Character's words or descriptive text if part of a paragraph |
| Italic Text | Character's thoughts or actions if surrounded by parenthesis |
| Bold Text | Character is shouting. |