Session 20 - The Death of Ashrem!

Day 46

Makoa had been watching the Ironfang camp since dawn but by midday had given up waiting for a patrol to leave. It seemed that the patrol he had observed the day before was not a daily occurrence.

Returning to the others, hidden deep in the woods, he informed them of this new development. The companions decided that they would try and find the trail the Ironfang used to travel to and from the camp, setting up an ambush in a suitable spot for the next patrol....whenever that might be.

The trail was not difficult to find but several hundred yards from the camp it broke off in various directions. Deciding to set up the ambush just before that point, the companions settled into the dense undergrowth either side of the trail. Makoa and Cullen on one side, Xin and Ashrem on the other.

But no patrols came. The companions set a watch and settled down for the night, ready for the next day.

Day 47

Dawn broke, its pale light slowly filtering through the canopy and the early morning mist, as the companions readied themselves for another day of waiting.

The sun had not yet reached its high point, when Makoa suddenly tapped Cullen on the shoulder. Pointing down the trail, the half-Orc readied his crossbow. Cullen slowly stretched his legs, before picking up his longbow and loosely nocking an arrow. On the other side of the trail, he could just make out Xin hidden in the undergrowth, face tense as he looked back down the trail in the direction of the camp.

Makoa tapped Cullen on the shoulder again. Beckoning, he pointed in the opposite direction from the noise and began to move off through the undergrowth away from whoever was coming.

What's he doing? wondered Cullen, confused.

Unable to move as quietly as the rangy half-Orc, he was unwilling to risk revealing their hiding place. Deciding to stay where he was, he crouched a little lower in the undergrowth and trained his bow down the trail at whatever was coming. As he did so, he caught sight of Ashrem rising from the undergrowth and heading after Makoa. Unfortunately, the lanky half-Elf had not moved more than a couple of paces before he stepped on an old branch, the noise of it snapping seeming to echo among the trees.

The noise from down the trail stopped. Moments later three figures emerged, spread out and weapons at the ready. One was a hobgoblin with a bow, a pair of axes in his belt. The other two were Bugbears. One with a javelin ready to throw, two more in his other hand. The other a big beast of a creature holding a short-bow, arrow nocked and the head dripping a black substance.

Cullen rose from the undergrowth and let fly with his arrow, missing the big Bugbear by a couple of inches.

“Bastards!” he shouted, dropping his bow to unsling his shield and draw his sword, then moving onto the trail, “Come and get some, then!”

The big bugbear ignored the burly warrior, aiming his bow at Xin. The sorcerer was standing in the undergrowth, muttering under his breath and making arcane gestures with his hands as the arrow struck, wounding him.

The hobgoblin followed the big bugbear's lead, letting fly an arrow that also struck the half-Elf sorcerer.

Xin managed, despite the pain, to finish his incantation...a faint blue haze momentarily appearing around him.

“Come on, you big, ugly bastard!” shouted Cullen, trying to draw their attention, as he made straight for the big Bugbear.

The creature turned towards him, snarling, before stepping back and letting loose another arrow. “Is that all you've got?” Cullen spat, as he batted the arrow away with his shield.

The other Bugbear threw a javelin at Xin. This was almost immediately followed by another arrow from the hobgoblin. Both missed...a shimmering blue haze appearing around the sorcerer for a moment as they were deflected. The wounded half-Elf sorcerer took the opportunity to pull out a vial, quickly downing the contents.

Makoa, meanwhile, had moved to a well-protected position in the undergrowth, from which he proceeded to fire his crossbow..narrowly missing the javelin-throwing Bugbear.

Momentarily distracted by the half-Orc's crossbow bolt, the Bugbear left himself open to Cullen who, lunging forward with his sword, wounded him before turning to deflect an attack from the bigger Bugbear who had drawn a pair of short-swords.

Makoa shouted something in a guttural language to which the big Bugbear just laughed. Turning to the wounded Bugbear, he barked an order. The creature nodded and set off back down the trail. Xin, seeing this, raised his hands. Fiery missiles spat out...hitting the running Bugbear and dropping him.

Ashrem, by this time, had managed to push his way through the undergrowth, launching himself at the remaining Bugbear who span around and parried the blow with his twin swords. Cullen tried to take advantage and lunge at the creature's back, but he deftly turned and deflected the burly warrior's blade, too.

Grunting something in his guttural language, the beast nodded at the hobgoblin who set off at a run back down the trail. The Bugbear, moving lithely, then stabbed out with both swords at Ashrem. The half-Elf gasped in surprise as both blades cut deep.

Cullen smashed forward with his shield, momentarily knocking the Bugbear off balance and managing to slice into the creature's arm...followed moments later by a bolt from the half-Orc's crossbow.

From the corner of his eye, Cullen saw Xin unfurling a scroll and chanting but seconds later the scroll disintegrated, a look of frustration passing over the Sorcerer's face.

The big Bugbear snarled, lunging at Ashrem again with his twin swords. Ashrem parried one of the blows but the other slipped past his guard, stabbing through his breastplate and into his chest. Crying out in pain, the half-Elf swung his great-sword but the Bugbear easily sidestepped the weakened blow and, using the half-Elf's own momentum against him, parried the blade so hard that the edge of the great sword cut back deeply into Ashrem's thigh...dropping him, blood spurting out from the wound.

Xin began another chant and, raising his hands, hurled a giant ball of flame at the Bugbear...scorching him. A moment later, and the earth under the creature's feet took on a familiar oily sheen as the Sorcerer cast his Grease spell. Despite this, the Bugbear remained on his feet.

Cullen, taking advantage of the Sorcerer's distractions, lunged at the beast, cutting deep. The Bugbear, beginning to look a little weary and continuing to suffer from the flaming sphere...could not get past the burly warrior's shield.

Cullen, with one last effort, smashed his shield into the Bugbear's face as he thrust his sword into the Bugbear's guts, dropping him. Not content with this, the burly warrior grabbed the fallen creature by his lank and greasy hair and began to hack away at his head.

“This...is...for...my...brother,” he shouted, chopping away. A moment later and he held up the severed head, staring into the lifeless eyes. “Headless and food for the crows!” he spat. Picking up a javelin, he thrust one end into the ground, skewering the head on the other. “Let that be a warning to the others!” he said, turning towards his companions. It was only then that he saw Makoa on his knees next to Ashrem, head in has hands.

“Ash?” he shouted, rushing to the half-Elf's side. “No!” he gasped, as he saw the terrible wounds in the half-Elf's chest and thigh...and the sightless eyes. Ashrem was dead.

“No!” cried Cullen, cradling his friend's lifeless body, “Not you, too! How many more have to die at the hands of these bastards!”

Kneeling in the mud, the warrior gently brushed the leaves out of his friend's hair and wiped the mud from his face.

“We need to go before that hobgoblin comes back with reinforcements,” said Makoa, softly, eyes darting back down the trail in the direction of the Ironfang camp.

Cullen face pale and drawn, nodded numbly. “I'll carry him back to the caves.”

“The caves?” repeated Makoa, surprised. “No. We need to finish this fight.”

“We've got no chance,” said Cullen, in a hollow voice, “Not with my friend here, dead. Three of us against more than a dozen? It'll be suicide.”

“We can do it,” said Xin, as he finished stripping the Bugbear's body of anything of use, “We just need to draw more out.”

“Like we did this time?” said Cullen, with an empty laugh, “Won't be long before we join my friend here. Still...if that's what you want, I'm not going to argue. Like Ashrem, I will stand by you until the end...and take as many of the bastards with me as I can.”

With that, the companions set off, making their way deep into the forest, Cullen carefully carrying his friend's broken body through the tangled undergrowth.

For a slightly easier read, a PDF of the write-up on Google Drive here.

Session 19 - Search for the Ironfang Camp!

Day 40

Cullen, scowling, watched Xin search the dead hobgoblin's body. After several moments, the half-Elf pulled out a leather scroll and a piece of parchment wrapped around what turned out to be a large ruby. After studying the leather scroll for a few moments, he read the parchment.

“Here,” said Xin softly, holding the scroll and parchment out to Ashrem, “You'll want to see this.”

Ashrem took them and began to read, his face turning pale. “Those bastards...”, he muttered, face taut as he handed the parchment to Cullen.

Cullen read:

My troopers carry this gift to show our intentions. Together we can tear our enemies to pieces, their arms ripped from their living bodies, and their heads screaming as we wrest them from their necks. We've slaughtered or enslaved all in the human town save for a few weak stragglers now lost in the woods. We can hunt them down as one, or we will be done with your claims to this region.

Scarvinious

“Arrogant bastards!” shouted Cullen. Drawing his sword, he strode over to the body of the hobgoblin. Pushing Xin aside, he brought his sword down...severing the hobgoblin's head. “Headless and food for the crows!” he said, picking the head up and looking at it for a moment before tossing it aside.

After wiping his sword clean on the body, he returned to Ashrem's side. “We'll find your family,” he said softly, gripping his old friend by the shoulders.

“There's this, too,” said Ashrem, handing Cullen the leather scroll, “Looks like the location of an Ironfang outpost...where that bastard came from, maybe.”

Cullen took the map, studying it. “It's only a couple of days away,” he said, eyes blazing, “We need to investigate...might be a chance for some payback!”

“Maybe some of those they...enslaved...are kept there,” said Ashrem, hopefully.

Makoa joined them and, after reading the letter and studying the map, agreed that they needed to scout out the enemy camp.

“But first we need to let Aubrin know....” said the half-Orc. “And before that...I have an idea!”

Makoa took out the Tree Feather Token that they had found on one of the Troglodytes and, kissing it, he placed it on top of the bodies of the hobgoblin and wolf...stepping quickly back.

Almost immediately a sapling sprang forth from the token, quickly growing until it had become a huge forty-foot Oak tree. The tree screened the entrance to the caves perfectly, making it impossible to see unless one should be standing right in front of it.

“That's changed the look of the land a bit,” he said, grinning as the others looked on in wonder, “Make it harder for anyone who knew where the caves where to find them again.”

The companions then headed back into the caves to tell the others and ready themselves for the journey to the enemy camp.

Day 44

The journey had been a long and arduous one. The forest was particularly dense, rising and falling over hill and valley, making it hard to find anything. In the end, it took four days rather than two. And it was Ashrem who, scouting ahead, finally discovered the enemy camp.

Hidden in a deep ravine and protected by steep cliffs on three sides, the enemy camp was well protected. A wooden palisade covered the only approach, with one locked gate allowing entry. Furthermore, the land about had been cleared of trees, giving the defenders a clear line of sight to anyone approaching. At the far end of the ravine, stairs rose up the cliff-face to a watchtower standing atop the highest part of the cliff.

“They've done a good job,” said Cullen, begrudgingly, “Very hard to get close without being seen. And the long grass in front of the palisade probably hides all sorts of nasties...”

“Those brambles might offer a way to observe them...” mused Makoa, nodding in the direction of a dense thicket that ran up the left-hand side of the ravine, perhaps fifty foot wide.

“Maybe...” said Cullen, frowning, “But those thorns would rip you to shreds.”

“Worth a try,” replied Makoa. “Can't see any other way of getting a better look.”

The companions agreed that Makoa would carefully follow the brambles to the top of the ravine and crawl into the thicket near the top, giving him a good view over the camp. He'd stay there a full day, observing and gathering whatever intelligence he could. The others would wait half a mile or so back, hidden deep in the woods away from any trails. If Makoa wasn't back by the end of the following day then they were to assume he was dead or captured.

Day 45

The sun was beginning to drop in the sky, when the sound of someone approaching had the three anxious companions reaching for their weapons.

“It's me,” said Makoa, coming out of the undergrowth. Clothes torn and face bloodied, the half-Orc looked downcast.

“There are a lot of them!” he said, dropping to the ground, exhausted. “I counted twelve Hobgoblins, five Bugbears, a Warg and dog. There might be more.”

“Shit!” said Cullen, angrily, reluctant to give up on the idea of attacking.

“A patrol goes out in the morning and returns at dusk,” continued the half-Orc, wearily, “One Bugbear and two Hobgoblins. They follow a strange and particular path through the tall grass...”

“Traps! I knew it. Clever bastards!” spat Cullen, frowning. “But we can whittle them down. Ambush the patrol. Kill them. Wait till they send out another patrol to look for them. Kill them, too. That'll leave ten or so in the camp. Better odds.”

“Yes. And if that doesn't work we can create a distraction,” said Ashrem, nodding, “Lure some of them out. Deal with them a few at a time rather than all at once on their own ground.”

“Maybe,” replied Makoa, looking a little more animated, “And there are always a few of them sleeping...at one point half a dozen of them. Take them a while to get their armour on.”

“So we're doing this then?” asked Xin, looking at his companions, “Right. So once we've whittled down their numbers...what then?”

For a slightly easier read, a PDF of the write-up on Google Drive here.

Session 18 - The Hemlock Banner!

Day 29

The sun had long since set by the time the companions, exhausted, finally reached the hunter's stead and a relieved Kinning. Over a meagre supper, they told the tale of the last couple of days.

“The caves are now cleared,” said Xin, wiping his fingers on his robes. “They'll make an excellent new camp...plenty of fresh water, hidden and easily defended. Even an old forge...”

“Good,” replied Kinning, gruffly, giving the half-Elf a hard look.

As they settled down for the evening, Cullen noticed Kinning take Xin aside. From the look on her face, it seemed she was not pleased with him. Cullen was not really surprised. The half-Elf's secretive nature had a way of rubbing people up the wrong way, he thought. Shrugging, he turned over on his bedroll and was soon fast asleep.

Day 32

As the companions neared the survivor's camp, Cullen thanked the gods for an uneventful journey from the hunter's stead. The clearing of the caves had taken its toll on the companions, exhausted from a couple of days of almost continuous combat. A few days travelling without having to draw his sword was a much needed chance to catch his breath.

“You're back!” said Aubrin, coming into view, “One of the guards said it was you!”

As Aubrin led them into the camp, the companions could sense a buzz about the place. It wasn't just the cheerful greetings at their return, the survivors seemed more positive...more confident. There were smiles as they went about their tasks, a sense of purpose.

“Things have been good,” said Aubrin, noticing our looks and grinning, “And the townsfolk have become more confident in their ability to fend for themselves. In the almost two weeks since you left, we've managed to catch more than enough fish and game to feed ourselves. Nor have we had any trouble. There is a sense that we should count our blessings...and a hope that the worst is behind us.”

“Let us hope so,” muttered Makoa, too low for the ranger to hear.

“I need to talk to Rhyna and Jet, for tonight we shall celebrate your return,” said Aubrin, smiling, “You rest. I will return shortly and you can tell me your news.”

Later that afternoon, the companions filled Aubrin in on their adventures, not least their discovery of the caves and the pressing need to move camp in light of the Centaur's map.

“Very well,” agreed Aubrin, nodding, “The people will be a little sad to leave this place...it has been their home for over a month...but they trust you. I will tell them and we will make ready to leave in the morning. Cullen...might I have a word?”

Aubrin took Cullen aside. “I wanted you to know...Mallius talked of you often. He obviously looked up to you...”

Cullen's face clouded over.

“I know you grieve for him,” Aubrin continued, placing her hands on Cullen's shoulders, “But I want you to know that he died doing what he believed in...fighting for Nirmath and its people.”

Cullen's shoulder slumped. “I could have saved him...” he whispered.

“No. You couldn't!” said Aubrin, gripping him hard, “Ashrem has told me you saw the battle from afar. He also told me that you could never have reached your brother in time. Don't let this eat you up!”

“I will not rest until those who caused his death are themselves headless and food for the crows. This I swear by the old gods!” spat Cullen, brushing Aubrin's hands aside and returning to the campfire. Aubrin watched him go, frowning.

Cullen sat on a log beside his old friend who was talking to Jet.

“I'm sure they are okay,” said Ashrem, smiling, “Don't you worry. My family's tough...they know how to look after themselves.”

Jet nodded, her gaze flicking to Cullen, unable to conceal the look of pity in her eyes.

Cullen felt the anger churning in his gut. The Ironfang will pay for what they have done. One way or another, he thought.

That evening the camp celebrated the return of the companions. There was music and dancing around the campfire, roast meat and baked fish to fill their bellies. Towards the end of the evening, Aubrin made a speech in which she thanked the companions for all of their efforts.

“We would not have made it this far without you...and those who have fallen...fighting for our survival,” said Aubrin, bowing her head for a moment, “And to show you how much we appreciate it, we have made a few things for you which we hope will be of some use.”

Aubrin motioned to a couple of the townsfolk who came forward holding a wand and two vials. These they gave to the companions who thanked them for the precious gifts.

“There is one more thing,” said Aubrin, smiling, “We thought we needed a symbol...something to bring our band of brothers and sisters together. Rhyna....”

Rhyna came forward holding a well-wrought banner. Made from a sturdy staff, pine branches formed the crossbeam from which a green scarf hung down.

“Our Hemlock Banner!” said Rhyna, proudly, holding it up for all to see.

The companions grinned at each other, feeling the surge in confidence amongst the survivors.

Makoa stood. “I bless this...our Hemlock Banner...in the name of Abadar. May it help us right the wrongs done to us and balance the scales!”

“Just needs a couple of Hobgoblin heads hanging from it!” Cullen muttered to Ashrem, “That'd strike fear into their mongrel hearts!”

The celebrations continued into the early hours.

Day 33

Dawn broke over a camp already bustling with activity. The survivors soon dismantled the camp, packing their things ready for the long journey to the caves. They destroyed what was left, attempting to make it look as if the camp had been attacked. This was aided by Xin who happily used his magic to burn it all down.

By the time the sun began to filter down through the canopy, the camp was on the move. Makoa scouting ahead whilst Cullen and Aubrin led the survivors. Ashrem took the rear with some of the warriors, doing their best to cover their tracks.

Day 38

The sun was at its highest as the band of survivors arrived at their destination. Thankfully the journey from the old camp to the caves had been uneventful, so everyone was in good spirits.

Xin checked the entrance for any signs of intruders but, as far as he could tell, the tunnel had been undisturbed. Nevertheless, the companions checked the caves thoroughly before allowing the survivors entry.

“By the gods, the smell...” said Aubrin, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“We did warn you...” replied Ashrem, laughing, “It'll take a bit of getting used to!”

They spent the rest of the day setting up camp on the upper level of the caves, making sure to set a watch near the entrance and also by the pit descending to the lower level.

Day 39

The survivors rose early the following day to continue setting up their new camp in the caves. Among other things, they made a screen from branches and leaves to conceal the overgrown entrance even more, making it virtually invisible from the outside.

The companions, meanwhile, descended to the lower levels with Aubrin, taking her to the cavern with the writing etched into the wall. After some time studying the writing, she spoke.

“It's in Aklo...the language of Derros,” she said, running her fingers along the carved script, “It tells the story of how they came here from the Darklands, many centuries ago, to pray at the feet of the Great Excavator.”

“Does it say how they got into the room behind the metal door?” asked Xin, impatiently.

“Yes. In seeking the Great Excavator, Grandmother turned her eyes to stone then steel then woe,” replied Aubrin.

“That's it!” said Xin, excitedly, “That must be the rock symbol...the metal bar symbol...and then the crying face symbol!” The half-Elf rushed from the cavern, heading in the direction of the metal door.

“Thank you, Aubrin,” said Makoa. “You should go back to the others...just in case...”

Aubrin nodded and headed back to the upper levels as Makoa and the two warriors followed Xin.

“Come on!” said Xin, as the others entered the chamber with the door, “Who's going to open it?”

“I will,” replied Cullen. Unslinging his sword and shield, he approached the door, the others readied themselves behind him. The burly warrior reached out to the central face and cautiously began to turn it. First to the symbol of the rock, then the symbol of the metal bar and, finally, to the symbol of the crying face. For a moment nothing happened, then there was a clanking noise as a hidden mechanism within the door itself swung into action...and the door slowly began to open.

The open door revealed a small chamber with a raised dais on which rested a sarcophagus. The chamber itself was plain as was the sarcophagus, except for the lid which featured a carving of an insectoid creature.

“That must be the Great Excavator,” said Xin, eagerly. The sorcerer muttered under his breath, concentrating. “There is magic inside! We must open it” he said, urging Cullen on.

Cullen looked around the chamber warily, half-expecting a trap of some kind. Cautiously, he moved into the room and to the bottom of the steps. “So far, so good,” he said. Taking a deep breath, he went up the three steps to reach the top of the dais. “Still okay,” he said, looking back at the others, shrugging, “Ash?”

Ashrem joined him at the top and together they heaved at the lid, pushing it aside.

“By the gods..” gasped Cullen, looking inside.

“What is it?” asked Xin.

“Some sort of crystallized insect-like creature...” he whispered, eyes wide in wonder, “And treasure. Lots of treasure!”

Xin was at his side in a moment, pushing the warrior aside in his eagerness to look inside. “There must be hundred of coins in here...” he muttered, picking some up, “Ancient ones of a type I've never seen...and gems...”

Cullen left the half-Elf to it, under the watchful eye of Makoa.

After a little while, Xin had had his fill and they turned their attention to the blocked up tunnel with the eerie moan. It was still early in the day and so they decided to pull down enough of the barricade for them to pass and investigate. It took them the rest of the morning but they managed to make enough room for them to pass one-by-one into the tunnel beyond.

Made of natural stone the tunnel descended steeply for a few dozen metres before veering right. The good news was that the eerie moan was not some foul creature intent on their destruction but just the air whistling through the rocks. They turned the corner to see the tunnel descended steeply as far as the eye could see.

“This must be the route the Derro took from the Darklands,” said Makoa. “If we followed it long enough, I believe that is where we would end up.”

“Best not follow it, then,” grunted Cullen, frowning, “I've heard stories of the Darklands...bad stories.”

Ash grunted in agreement.

The companions agreed that it would be for the best to restore the barricade and leave the tunnels beyond well alone. At Makoa's suggestion, they also decided to place Shrieker mushrooms in the tunnel beyond to give them warning should anything try and come up to the barricade. Furthermore, they decided they would barricade the secret door leading to the room with the carved writing as a further line of defence. This should hopefully leave Kinning safely able to use the old Derro forge.

They spent the next few hours reassembling the barricade before returning to the upper caverns to tell Aubrin and the others of their discoveries...and their plans. The rest of the afternoon was spent setting up Kinning in the old forge.

Day 40

Cullen and Ashrem spent the following morning barricading the secret door and then helping Kinning sort out the forge on the lower levels. The rest of the survivors had little reason to come down here, preferring the warmth and safety of the upper levels. Xin was busy studying the magical items found the day before, whilst Makoa began his attempts to cultivate some Shrieker mushrooms for their defence.

Around mid-morning, one of the survivors called down from the top of the pit. “Someone is at the entrance! He wants to speak to the leader!”

Cullen and Ashrem raced up the rungs, joining Xin, Makoa and Aubrin in the chamber nearest the entrance.

“I will go and speak with him,” said Xin. “Alone.”

“But...” Cullen began to protest.

“You and Ashrem can wait just behind the screen,” the half-Elf continued. “But we don't want to reveal more of ourselves than necessary at this point.”

Cullen reluctantly agreed. Makoa decided he'd be of better use staying with Aubrin keeping the survivors calm, ready to protect them should things turn out badly.

Xin and the two warriors made their way up the tunnels to the entrance. Xin motioned the other two to stay where they were and be quiet, then cautiously pushed the screen aside...enough for him to venture out...before putting it back in place.

Cullen heard a gruff voice ask if Xin was the leader but couldn't hear the half-Elf's reply, the thick screen and tunnel making hearing difficult. Cullen caught the name Ighiz and something about a ruby, then something about a deal.

Frowning, Cullen slowly inched the screen forward in order to take a look. As he did so he heard, more clearly, the voice mention slaves, just as he had pulled back the screen enough to see the figure of a brawny hobgoblin astride a wolf...in the ragged uniform of the Ironfang Legion.

The rage, churning deep in his gut since the death of his brother...always ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation, did so. Wrenching the screen aside, Cullen launched himself towards the hobgoblin, raging.

“You fucking bastard...” he shouted.

The figure looked momentarily taken aback as this warrior suddenly appeared, charging towards him, but he quickly regained his composure.

“So that is your answer then...” he spat, drawing an axe and throwing it at the charging warrior, who knocked it aside with his shield. The wolf beneath him snapped at Xin, tearing at him and knocking him to the ground.

Ashrem, meanwhile, had seen his friend toss aside the screen and charge out. Realising they had a fight on their hands, he leapt after his friend, managing to strike the wolf a mighty blow with his great-sword, wounding it deeply. Cullen swung at the hobgoblin, his sword bouncing of the creature's armour.

“You...fucking...bastard..” raged Cullen, bringing his sword back for another swing, this time drawing blood as the hobgoblin pulled out a wicked-looking scimitar, striking Ashrem.

The wolf, meanwhile turned its attention to Ashrem, giving Xin the chance to roll away, tentatively fingering his torn and bloodied arm. Ashrem swung at the slavering beast, killing it.

“Fucking...bastard!” screamed Cullen, as he batted the hobgoblin's scimitar aside with his shield and lunged with all his strength. The sword cut deep into the creature's side, tearing that part of his armour completely loose in a shower of blood.

A moment later and the two warriors felt a blast of heat as...from just behind them...a huge fiery hand appeared, engulfing the hobgoblin warrior. As the foul creature burnt, Ashrem leapt up and delivered the killing blow.

“Bastard!” spat Cullen, panting, as he dropped to his haunches. “What the fuck are the Ironfang doing here?”

“I was finding that out!” said Xin, angrily, “They wanted to make a deal...the same deal they had with the Troglodytes. No resistance and no aid for any that do resist. In return, money and trinkets.”

“There are no deals with these bastards!” shouted Cullen, standing and glaring at the half-Elf.

“There's no information out of him either, now!” shouted back the half-Elf.

“These bastards killed your friends! My brother! There is no talking to them! Besides, we couldn't take the chance of letting him run back to his masters to tell them where we are...” shouted back Cullen.

Makoa appeared. “Come on,” he said, standing between them, “What's done is done. One less bastard to kill later. And there are other ways to find out what they are up to.”

“Let's just hope that when he doesn't return they don't send more this way,” replied Xin, kneeling down to search the hobgoblin's body.

“Better than him returning to Phaendar and informing his masters that there are survivors hiding in the caves!” spat Cullen, as Ashrem and Makoa tried to calm him down.

For a slightly easier read, a PDF of the write-up on Google Drive here.

Session 17 - Ighiz!

Day 29

Cullen slowly pushed open the double doors to reveal a large chamber dominated by a strange insect-like statue. A glowing blue crystal set in the statue cast an eerie light that reflected off numerous salt crystals hanging from the ceiling, whilst a low mist drifted over a variety of woven mats and dried grasses covering the floor. On the far side, a carved dragon's head gazed down over an otherworldly metal door covered in strange symbols.

In the corner of the chamber, beside the strange door, stood a robed Troglodyte wielding a crystal-studded club and chanting softly. A Troglodyte Shaman stood beside her holding a spear, two Troglodyte warriors at the ready in front of them.

“Here we go again!” muttered Cullen. Accustomed by now to the familiar stench, he charged forward, shield raised and sword ready.

Ashrem, beside him, began to follow but faltered, the rancid stench overcoming him.

As Cullen reached the Troglodytes, the robed figure raised her hands, the chanting reaching a crescendo. Suddenly rocks and earth from the cavern floor rose up into the air, whirling around faster and faster before hurtling towards the three companions standing at the threshold...battering them, covering them in cuts and bruises, and littering the floor with debris.

Moments later, the Shaman, making a series of arcane gestures, pointed at the floor where the three companions stood, a slippery sheen appearing there.

Ashrem, already distracted by the stench, slipped and fell to his knees. To compound things, both the Troglodyte warriors hurled stinking gas-filled bladders , one of them striking Ashrem and bursting in a cloud of nauseating odour. Vomiting, it was all Ashrem could do to breathe, let alone regain his feet.

Xin, bloodied from the stoning, met spell with spell. Hurling twin bolts of magical energy at the robed Troglodyte, he caused her to momentarily falter in her chanting.

Cullen, taking advantage of the distraction, lunged at the Shaman, drawing blood.

“Bollocks to this!” said Makoa, the stench from the burst gas bladders clawing at his throat. Moving cautiously over the slippery patch, he made his way through the debris and into the chamber. Managing to let loose a bolt, he struck the chanting figure.

Only momentarily distracted, the robed Troglodyte raised her hands again. Another whirlwind of stones and earth smashed into the companions, causing more cuts and bruises, only Cullen once more escaping the battering.

The shaman, muttering under her breath, pointed at the warrior's sword which suddenly slipped from Cullen's grasp, leaving him unarmed.

Ashrem, by this time, had managed to regain his feet. Battered, bruised and sickened by the smell, he nevertheless managed to push his way towards the Troglodytes, bringing his war-hammer down on one of the warriors, killing it instantly.

“Stinking bastards!” he spat.

“About time!” grunted Cullen, swiftly drawing a spare longsword and lunging at the chanting Troglodyte. The robed figure deftly side-stepped the thrust but was unable to avoid the crossbow bolt and twin magical missiles that slammed into her, causing her to falter in her song.

“Focus on the stone-thrower!” gasped Ashrem, swinging his war-hammer. The robed figure side-stepped the blow only to find the edge of Cullen's longsword slashing at her from the other side, the wound causing her to cry out mid-chant.

The Shaman, now that everyone was concentrating on her mistress, took the opportunity to cast another spell. Making an arcane gesture and muttering under her breath, she pointed at Cullen. The burly warrior felt an icy finger of fear reach out and touch him but he set his mind against it, the momentary pang passing.

Xin, from the threshold, cast another pair of magical bolts at the robed Troglodyte , wounding her once more. By this time, the Troglodyte leader was beginning to falter, her chanting becoming broken as her many wounds began to take their toll.

Makoa, seeing this, levelled his crossbow at her and let fly. The bolt flew true, cutting deep. The chanting stopped and she fell to the rock-strewn floor.

The remaining Troglodyte warrior let out a cry of anguish, striking the lanky half-Elf warrior in front of him and adding to his many wounds. At the same time, the Shaman, enraged at the death of her mistress, pointed at the warrior's war-hammer, causing it to slip from his grasp.

Xin, seeing the leader fall, moved cautiously over the slippery stone and into the chamber, to better view the remaining enemy.

“Shit!” muttered Ashrem, quickly reaching behind his back to draw his great-sword. With one fluid motion, he unsheathed the weapon and brought it down on the Shaman, even managing to wound the Troglodyte warrior in the process.

Cullen, too, lunged at the Shaman, his sword leaving at great gash in her side at the same time as a bolt from Makoa's crossbow punched into her. The faltering figure nevertheless managed to raise her hands and, chanting arcane words, pointed her finger at Ashrem.

“Noooo!” hissed the lanky warrior, his face suddenly turning pale, his eyes widening in fear. Turning, he fled towards the door, slipping in the doorway and falling to the ground, struggling to regain his feet and escape the chamber.

The remaining Troglodyte warrior took advantage of the opening to charge Xin but was unable to land a blow.

Cullen, meanwhile, using his shield to stun the Shaman, plunged his sword into her chest, killing her.

Moments later, Makoa raised his crossbow and let fly a bolt, wounding the last remaining Troglodyte. Xin, muttering something under his breath, made a small gesture, pointing at the creature. Suddenly, the Troglodyte looked confused and distracted, enabling Cullen to leap forward and skewer the warrior from behind, dropping him. It was over.

“By the gods!” muttered Cullen, rushing over to his friend and pulling the pale, battered and still gagging half-Elf to his feet, “Are you alright, my old friend?”

Ashrem just nodded as he took a swig from his water-skin, washing his mouth out. “I will be.”

Makoa and Xin, meanwhile, made sure the Troglodytes were dead before searching them for anything of use, finding several things of interest.

“Here!” said Makoa, tossing Cullen a strangely-wrought club. Made of a dense wood, pale blue crystals were embedded in the head. “Might come in handy next time we're up against skeletons!”

After catching their breath, the companions turned their attention to the door below the carved dragon's head. A central face, somehow managing to look at times like that of an old woman and at others insect-like, was surrounded by a wheel of eleven pictograms: a beetle, a rock, a wedge, a hammer, a crying face, a flame, a claw, a door, a metal bar, a figure standing in triumph and, finally, a bottle.

“The head looks like it moves,” said Makoa, running his fingers over the face, “Look. You can see it rotates. Must be a particular combination opens the door. See...the eyes are currently looking between the bottle and the beetle!”

“Very similar to the writing carved into the wall of the other chamber,” said Xin, joining Makoa, “Maybe that chamber can tell us what's beyond the door...and how to open it.”

“I think you're right,” replied Makoa, after studying the door at some length, “I don't really want to have a go at opening it myself without knowing a bit more. If they've gone to all this trouble to lock it, who knows what'll happen if we get the combination wrong!”

Makoa, having convinced the others to leave the door alone for now, suggested it was time to return to the camp. The cleared caves, he suggested, would make an excellent place for the survivors...easily defended and well hidden, with plenty of fresh water from the well above and even fish in the pools to help feed them.

When Xin pointed out that there were those at the camp who may have the knowledge to decipher the carved writings and work out how best to unlock the door, it was decided. So the companions exited the caves, Xin bringing the crystal scorpion with him and letting it free in the woodlands.

“Fresh air!” exclaimed Cullen, taking deep lungfuls of the fragrant forest air, “By the gods, it's good to be outside again. Thought I might never escape the stink!”

“I know what you mean,” said Xin, squinting in the dappled light of a late morning, “It seems like we've been in the caves for days. Was it really only yesterday?”

Picking up a few leaves and branches, Xin carefully placed them just inside the entrance to the caverns to look as if they had blown in naturally. Memorising their positions, he would know if anything had entered the cave.

“Ready?” asked Makoa, impatient to leave, “Then let's go. It'll take a few days to get back and we can do half a day's travel before dusk.”

And so they set off as the midday sun high above them began its descent. By late afternoon, they had made good progress when they suddenly heard barking.

“There!” hissed Makoa, pointing through the undergrowth. In the distance could be seen two shadowy figures, accompanied by a dog.

“There's another!” said Cullen, pointing off to the side. “Ironfang!” he spat and, unslinging his sword and shield, went after the one approaching from the side.

“Shit!” muttered Xin, tired and almost out of spells. He began to back off into the undergrowth as he loaded up his crossbow.

“You're no use to anyone back there!” said Makoa. Crossbow already out, he let loose a bolt but missed. Xin ignored him and readied his own weapon.

Ashrem, pulling out his great-sword, loped off into the undergrowth heading directly for the two hobgoblins.

The dog, growling, raced from his master's side straight towards the lanky half-Elf. At the same time, the bigger of the two hobgoblins pulled out a heavy net and, spinning it above his head, threw it at the approaching warrior, but missed.

The other hobgoblin, meanwhile, hurriedly loosed an arrow from his short-bow at the burly warrior charging him, but Cullen just knocked it aside with his shield as he lunged at the creature with his sword, wounding him. The hobgoblin grunted, pulling out his sword but was unable to get past the warrior's shield as Cullen, raging, stabbed his sword deep into the creature's chest, felling it.

Off to Cullen's left, the dog, snarling and slavering, leapt at Ashrem, trying to tear at his throat but only managing to rip at his arm. The half-Elf shoved the dog away as he tried to swing at the hobgoblin in front of him, but the dog had knocked him off balance. As he swung his sword, it caught on a thick branch, the jolt causing the sword to slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. The big hobgoblin a few paces in front of the half-Elf sneered, spinning his net and throwing it, entangling the lanky warrior in its thick cords.

At the same time, the remaining hobgoblin, finding some cover in the dense undergrowth, turned his attention to the half-Orc. Makoa, too, moved into the cover of some bushes and, for every arrow that flew his way, he sent a bolt hurtling back.

Xin, several paces further back, used his crossbow to send bolts wherever he felt they might best help.

Back in the thick of it, the dog again leapt at the entangled half-Elf, wounding him again. Despite this, the lanky warrior managed to pull out his war-hammer, trying to bludgeon the dog tearing at him, but the thick cords of the net frustrated his efforts.

“Cullen!” called out Makao, from the undergrowth, “Ash is in trouble!”

Cullen, having just finished off the hobgoblin in front of him, swung around to see his friend entangled in a net and set upon by both dog and hobgoblin. Immediately, he made towards the brawny hobgoblin attacking his friend.

“C'mon, you big, ugly bastard,” he shouted, trying to get the creature's attention. “I'll have your fucking head!”

Ash, battered and bleeding, used the distraction to pull out a vial, quickly gulping down its contents.

The hobgoblin, unfazed by Cullen's taunts, turned towards him, swinging another net above his head. Throwing it at the charging warrior, it caught him full on, entangling him, also.

“Think this'll stop me?” raged Cullen. Shuffling towards the brawny hobgoblin, he managed to lunge with his sword, cutting deep into the creature's thigh.

At the same time, the dog turned its attention from the half-Elf to Cullen. Growling it leapt at him, managing to tear at the warrior through the netting. The raging Cullen barely felt it.

Further back, Makoa and the other hobgoblin had been trading arrow for bolt, bolt for arrow. Makoa, letting fly a particularly well-aimed shot, hit the hobgoblin in the neck, causing it to drop its bow as it clutched at the bleeding wound.

Moments later a blast of magical fire came hurtling out of the undergrowth, burning the creature and compounding its woes.

Ashrem, meanwhile, finding himself momentarily ignored, managed to bring his weapon down on the snarling dog as it tried to tear at Cullen. Whimpering, the dog backed away.

The big hobgoblin, drawing a sword, stabbed at the entangled Cullen, wounding him. Cullen,though, seemed oblivious as he strained to get at the hobgoblin.

“This one is for Mallius!” screamed Cullen, as, undeterred by the thick cords entwining him, he lunged again at the hobgoblin, wounding him deeply.

The brawny hobgoblin, hurt and less sure of himself now, whistled at the dog, backing off from the two entangled warriors. The dog at his side, the two headed off into the undergrowth. The remaining hobgoblin, seeing this, joined them, still clutching his throat.

Both Ashrem and Cullen took the opportunity to free themselves of the nets before charging off in pursuit, Ashrem stopping briefly to pick up his great-sword. Makoa and Xin, too, followed the retreating hobgoblins.

The dog, at a command from his master, suddenly turned on the pursuing warriors in an effort to slow then down, but Cullen caught him a serious blow with his sword. Whimpering, it tried to return to its master but Ashrem brought his sword down, killing it before it could.

Catching up to the two remaining hobgoblins, they realised they had no option but to turn and fight. Both of them swinging at the lanky half-Elf, the brawny one managed to bring Ashrem down with a savage blow.

“No!” shouted Cullen, lunging at the big hobgoblin. His sword ripped into the creature's neck, dropping him.

At the same time, Makoa sent another bolt into the remaining hobgoblin's neck, this time ending the duel once and for all.

“Ash!” cried Cullen, dropping to his knees beside his friend. Makoa joined him.

“He'll be okay,” said the half-Orc, after a moment, “Bit sore, maybe.”

“Thanks,” gasped Cullen, relieved, catching his breath. “But what are the bloody Ironfang doing this far east?”

“We need to get back to the camp,” said Xin, frowning...

For a slightly easier read, a PDF of the write-up on Google Drive here.