Session 12 - The Search For Mallius!

Day 19

Cullen Vane stood on the ridge looking to the north-west. A full moon illuminated the grasslands leading up to the eaves of Fangwood and, in the distance, he could see a camp-fire. What had caught his attention, though, was the occasional flash of magic and the sound of battle. He turned towards his companion, a tall and rangy half-Elf.

“What do you think, Ash? You can see better than me in this half-light.”

Ashrem Rel-Astra shrugged. “Someone is in trouble. Hobgoblins. At least half a dozen. It'll all be over long before we can get there. In fact, I can see someone running into the woods now. The hobgoblins don't seem particularly interested in him...too busy dealing with the others.”

“Bastards!” spat Cullen, in reply, “Not the first we've seen since we've come north. Well, maybe we should make our way around...pick up the trail of the one who ran. Might have news of Phaendar.”

Ashrem nodded. The two warriors quickly made their way towards the woods, keeping away from the hobgoblin camp where they could now hear the sound of celebration.

They soon picked up the trail of whoever had fled the battle, they'd obviously been more concerned with getting away quickly than covering their tracks, and it was not long before they heard someone up ahead. The two warriors noiselessly drew their swords, keeping them low, and approached the noise. They saw a half-Elf, clothes torn and bloodied, eyes wild and exhausted. He had found a hollow and was pulling branches and leaves over himself in an effort to hide and, no doubt, get some rest.

“Friend?” called Cullen softly, as he moved slowly closer, “Friend? Are you okay? We saw what happened earlier...saw you escape...are you hurt?”

The startled half-Elf leapt out of the hollow, hands raised defensively. “Who are you?” he hissed, stepping backwards as Cullen and Ashrem slowly approached.

Cullen stopped and held up his hands. “Not to worry. We're not the enemy. We were travelling north to Phaendar when we saw the fight with the hobgoblins. We were too far away to help the others but followed you, thinking you might need help. Are you hurt?”

The half-Elf lowered his hands cautiously. “Yes. Many cuts. None that'll kill me.”

Cullen unslung his shield and backpack, rummaging around inside for a moment before producing a phial. “This should help,” he said, offering it to the half-Elf, who took it and quickly guzzled the contents. Looking visibly better, the half-Elf relaxed a little. “Thanks, he said, sitting down, “I'm Xin.”

“Cullen...and my friend here is Ashrem,” said the burly warrior, rummaging around in his pack once more, producing some rations this time. “Hungry?” he asked. Xin nodded.

“We're heading to Phaendar,” said Ashrem, after they'd eaten, “We've family there. Heard rumours of an attack. Do you know any more?”

Xin frowned, looking from one warrior to the other. “I'm afraid I do...and it's not good news.”

He proceeded to tell them of the attack on the town and how some of the townsfolk managed to flee to the woods. He was, however, a little vague with the details, not completely trusting these two fierce looking warriors, despite the evident shock and concern on their faces at his tale.

“The best bet is to try and find Aubrin,” he said, shaking his head to the offer of more water, “She is one of the survivors of the attack and a ranger of some repute.”

“I know Aubrin! Glad she made it,” said Ashrem, patting Cullen on the shoulder, “And she would have helped others...of that I'm sure.”

“She's in the woods with some others and I think I can find her,” replied Xin, rubbing his eyes. “But tomorrow. I must get some sleep.” And with that he rolled over before anyone could ask any more questions.

Day 20

The two warriors were up with the sun the next morning and soon following Xin in a northerly direction. Cullen, despite having grown up on the outskirts of Fangwood, had forgotten how dense both the undergrowth and the canopy could be. And how gloomy. The half-Elf seemed reluctant to talk so the two warriors, assuming he was mourning the loss of his friends yesterday, kept their distance...but Cullen was beginning to wonder if Xin really knew where he was going. It was easy to get lost in this great forest. Nevertheless, the day passed uneventfully.

Day 21

By lunchtime of the following day, Cullen was beginning to have serious doubts about Xin's ability to find Aubrin. Yesterday they had been heading north but today Xin began to gradually veer north-west. Was he lost? As they stopped for some food around midday, Cullen quizzed Xin on where they were heading but was again only given vague answers.

“I don't think he knows where he's going?” said Cullen, after taking Ashrem aside, “And we're wasting time. My brother and your family could be anywhere...maybe it's time to make for Phaendar...see if we can pick up the trail there?”

“He knew Aubrin,” Ashrem replied, glancing at the half-Elf who sat a little distance away, “Said she got away with some survivors. That's the best lead we have yet. I say we give him another day or so.”

Cullen reluctantly agreed.

It was late afternoon. The sun was low in the sky and the forest was full of shadows. Xin led with Cullen then Ashrem taking up the rear. Suddenly, there came a hideous, unearthly screaming and a huge boar came crashing out of the undergrowth, charging Ashrem and goring him badly before he had a chance to do much other than turn around to face the massive beast. Cullen had time to unsling his sword, cutting deeply into the beasts shoulder which only seemed to enrage it more. Xin had whipped around.

“Gashmaw!” he yelled, as he let fly from his fingertips a bolt of sizzling energy. “The ring on his tusk!” he cried, pointing, “Cut off the ring!”

Ashrem had, by this time, pulled out his sword. Heeding the half-Elf's words, he saw that one of its tusks, indeed, had a ring on it. He took a mighty swipe, trying to sever the tusk, but the beast turned on the man who had hurt him, Cullen.

Cullen stabbed at the beast, again drawing blood. The beast lunged in a frenzy, blood frothing at its snout, but Cullen blocked its fearsome tusks with his shield as Xin sent another bolt into its flank.

And then, from out of the undergrowth, a crossbow bolt came flying, piercing the beast in its back. It pawed the ground for a moment, unsteadily, and then slowly collapsed on its side, snorting. A moment later and it was dead.

Ashrem slowly lowered himself to the ground with a grunt. With his back against a tree trunk, he tenderly explored the nasty gash in his thigh.

At the same time, a tall and lean, half-Orc emerged from the shadowy undergrowth, swinging a crossbow onto his back. The green-tinged skin on one side of his face was marred by a scaly, grey mark of some sort. “That was going to be my dinner!” he said, striding over to the group, “I've not eaten in days!”

Cullen wiped the gore off his sword, sheathing it. “Well met, friend,” he said, grinning, “That was a good shot! I'm Cullen and this is my friend, Ashrem.” He nodded in the direction of the lanky warrior who looked up from his wound and nodded. “And over there is Xin.” He motioned to the half-Elf, who was busy prising the ring off the boars tusk.

“Makoa,” grunted the half-Orc, “So...are we going to cook that thing?”

As they prepared the boar and roasted it over a fire, Makoa told them a little of his story. He had been in Phaendar with his master for the festival when the attack happened. They had escaped the town only to be captured by Fey and taken deep into the forest. His master hadn't made it and he had barely escaped with his life...and the strange mark on his face. He had been surviving as best he could as he tried to make his way out of the woods.

“You hear strange tales of things in the woods,” said Cullen, between mouthfuls of boar, “As kids we were never allowed far in and even the adults were wary of going too deep. But you were in Phaendar...what happened? Were there many survivors?”

Makoa painted a bleak picture as he recounted the butchery of the hobgoblins and how few survivors he saw escaping. “But I only saw what happened near us,” he grunted, wiping grease from his chin, “Maybe more escaped in other directions.”

Cullen glanced at Ashrem, seeing his friend's face pale and drawn as he worried about his family. “I hope you're right,” said Cullen, grimly, “We had family there.” Makoa turned away but not before Cullen saw the pity in his eyes.

Day 22

They awoke early and set off as the sun began to rise. Xin now began to lead them in a westerly direction. After a long day's trekking, and as the sun dropped low in the sky, they reached a faint trail.

“Stop! Keep your hands away from your weapons!” came from the undergrowth and a warrior appeared, brandishing a sword. He relaxed as soon as he saw the half-Elf. “Xin! You're back! Where are the others?” Xin pushed past the man, beckoning the others to follow as he made his way into the camp.

They were met by several survivors, all happy to see Xin and asking after the others. He brushed aside their questions and headed towards Aubrin, whom he could see at the far side of the camp.

Ashrem, meanwhile, recognised many of the surviving townsfolk. Calling out their names, he greeted them, asking for news of his family, sadly they all shook their heads or shrugged apologetically. None knew what had happened to his wife and daughters. The townsfolk looked curiously at Cullen and even more so at the disfigured Makoa, who took it all in his stride, as they made their way towards Xin and Aubrin.

Aubrin greeted the newcomers, giving Ashrem a hug and shaking her head sadly as he asked after his family. “Sorry, my friend, I don't know what happened to them.” Ashrem, looking pale and worried, stepped back.

“And you?” asked Aubrin, looking at Cullen, who stepped forward, clasping her hand. “I'm Cullen Vane. I'm here looking for my brother, Mallius. He was in Phaendar convalescing...” Cullen trailed off, as he saw many of the surviving townsfolk turn at the name.

“Mallius?” said Aubrin, softly, glancing at Xin, “He was with Xin...”

“Mallius?” rasped Xin, trying to mask his surprise, “Mallius and Kana left to hunt for Gashmaw. We left them on the second day and headed to All Eyes Wood.”

“Mallius is alive!” cried Cullen, clasping Xin by the shoulders, laughing, “Thank the old gods!”

Xin pulled away from Cullen, looking uncomfortable. “We found this in All Eyes Wood,” he said, pushing a burnt note into Aubrin's hand, “Do you know what it means?” Xin steered Aubrin, who looked a little confused, away from the newcomers.

Cullen, meanwhile, tried hard to mask his relief at hearing his brother was alive. He could see that Ashrem was taking the lack of news on his family hard. He sat beside his old friend, next to the fire, and shared some food with him, for the survivors were eating well that night after several days good hunting and fishing.

Later that evening, as everyone was settling down for the night, Xin approached Cullen, motioning for him to follow.

“You want me for the watch?” he asked, rousing himself. Xin nodded. They quietly made their way to the edge of the camp.

“I've...got...” muttered Xin, stopping, “There's something I need to tell you. Mallius...he's dead.”

Cullen turned around, looking at Xin, confused. “But you said he was off hunting?” he said, face suddenly drawn, “What do you mean...dead?”

“He wasn't hunting...he was with me...fighting the hobgoblins...” whispered Xin, pale and nervous, “He was killed with the others.”

“You said he was hunting!” shouted Cullen, fury in his voice, “Why did you say that!” Cullen grabbed Xin by the shoulders, spitting with rage.

Xin did nothing to try and defend himself. “I'm sorry. I ran...” he whispered, not looking Cullen in the eye.

Cullen looked like he was about to draw his sword but suddenly his face turned deathly white.

“I was there...I could have reached him,” he whispered, eyes suddenly looking haunted, “I could have reached him.” He snarled and shoved Xin away, turning he loped off into the woods.

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