The Cavern of Black Night and Unholy Rage

They enter the roadhouse, a noisy bustling place, and head toward the man who seems to be the tavernkeeper. When Chloe asks for the roadhouse bard, he Looks them over carefully, then finally leads them through a hallway to a small room.

Here they meet Lindar Volare, Skylark's son. Hador's eyes immediately go to the tambourine resting on the table where Lindar sits. Splice follows suit. Libere starts to introduce himself; Chloe steps forward, puts her hand on Libere's arm, states the purpose for their presence. Lindar takes in the axe Hador carries, notes where her attention is fixed, nods. He appears surprised only by Chloe, but covers it well, rises to kiss the back of her hand. Libere scowls, promptly receives a scowl in turn from Rilen. Splice and Hador both turn to stare at Lindar.

Indeed, he is worth staring at, a contradiction. Medium height, the beginning of a pot belly, a little fleshy and balding, he has the ability to focus everyone's attention on himself, seems larger somehow than in life. And knows it. Lindar sweeps his cloak to one side, bows while still holding Chloe's hand, stands again, grandly bids them all to enjoy themselves for the night.

And so they do. When Lindar performs, sings a melancholy song about love lost and never forgotten, they drink an extra beer; he picks them back up with a song about brighter days of valor; brings them to laughter when he sings a silly lascivious ditty, then sends them to their beds, a soothing melody inside their heads, seeking sleep.

No one rises early the next morning.

 

Interlude

I want the shiny discs on the drum and would take them if I could, but the one who sings, Lindar, keeps them close at hand. I would rather the singer has them than Hador, who wants them, too.

Noisy, too many people, this is not a safe place for one such as I. But I perch high on a rafter in a corner, the better to keep an eye on the young one, Chloe. I would not lose another that I am bound to mind to mind, and almost did I lose her at the river.

Inside the mind bond, I think sometimes I can feel the old one, yet alive in the young one.

Sometimes, too, I think I feel traces of another.

And Rilen watches Chloe, even as do I.

Ahhh and so does Libere, but not for the same reason, no.

 

Splice is up the earliest, waiting on the same rafter he perched on the night before. The others make their appearances much later. Hador, when she arrives is particularly grumpy, having drank perhaps one too many beers the night before. Libere is not much better; only Leiden and Rilen appear rested. They wait the longest for Lindar.

Once they are together, and stocked up with supplies, they leave, circumventing the town, then head almost due north. Their goal is the palace of a large city, if not the throne room, then one close to it.

Libere again takes the lead and sets a pace the others cannot follow. When they stop to rest, Chloe takes him aside, has a quiet conversation with him. Softly singing, almost humming, Lindar sings a tune that takes away the rough edges from the previous night, restores their energy. When they take off again, although still in the lead, Libere keeps a pace that is better suited to keep them together.

Splice flies far ahead, industriously criss-crossing the area, searching for anything that might be a danger. This day, there is none.

The only irritation is Lindar's continual sarcastic teasing. No one escapes his sharp tongue, not Chloe or the raven, nor Libere, and most certainly not Hador. Only Rilen seems to be somewhat exempt, perhaps due to his sudden temper and sharp rebuke when he is the target.

Once Lindar sleeps, the night passes quietly as well.

 

Not so the next evening.

Despite the grey, low lying clouds that fill the sky from horizon to horizon, the day begins well enough. Everyone is rested, and for once Hador isn't grumbling, Libere is considerately setting a reasonable pace and Lindar has not started teasing the others yet.

They make considerable headway during the day and get along well enough, despite Lindar's taunting remarks.

Near twilight, they are attacked by a well hidden group of orcs, who charge out of a cluster of bushes and low trees.

Splice is late calling a warning, they are all caught flat-footed.

There are 12 of them, most of them armed with falchions, 3 have great axes. All of them throw their javelins. The majority of them miss or hit armor and bounce off. Chloe is protected by Hador, who stands by her side and is closer to the orcs. She escapes injury. Lindar is struck in the leg and falls, yelling for help.

Libere is the first to move. Unsheathing Mortel Rouge, he charges at the 2 orcs who are closing in. Mortel Rouge dances, left, right, again and again. The orcs fall. After dispatching them, he turns toward an orc, one of the leaders, who holds a great axe.

Chloe points her finger at a nearby rock and casts a spell on it that makes it shine brightly, as if the area was in full sun. The spell serves it's purpose, slowing down the orcs' advance, their eyes dazzled by the light.

Hador has time now to attend to Lindar's wound and does so, pulling out the javelin and closing the injury with one of her healing spells. She turns back to protect Chloe, Ferusaxe in her hand, eager to chop orcs. One of the orcs with a great axe, a large barbarian, overcome with rage, charges in Hador's direction despite being near blind.

Lindar limps some, but can stand and fight. Instead, he moves closer to Chloe and Hador, decides to fascinate the other leader of the orcs. He sings a song to that end, aided by his tambourine. The orc freezes in place.

Rilen changes into his fire eagle phase, screaming fire, and chases after 2 orcs who are blindly running away from the fight. He swoops down, levels, comes fast behind them, sets them both on fire. They keep running, screaming themselves now, until they fall to the ground, rolling around in agony. Rilen wheels, heads back to the main party of orcs, now down to 6, minus the 2 leaders.

Splice has been flying around the orcs, trying to distract them, darting in and out of their party when he has an opening. Once Rilen takes to the air, Splice flies to Chloe, lands on her shoulder, safely out of the way of the fire eagle's fiery screaming breath.

Chloe is shooting arrow after arrow at the orcs, most of them bouncing off their armor.

His eyes squinting, almost shut against the brightness, the orc with the great axe is at a disadvantage; Libere leaps inside the range of the axe and slices the orc's throat. He is so fast, the orc is dead before he knows Libere is even there. Blood douses Libere and Mortel Rouge, turns the ground red and slippery. Libere jumps over the wet ground and runs to join Rilen.

Rilen needs no help with the 5 orcs he has taken on. Half blind, they are no match for the fire that streams forth from his open beak, cannot follow his wheeling flight, and hit each other with their swords more often than not, swinging wildly when Rilen flies past.

Hador is having a tough time with the orc brandishing the great axe, and calls for Libere to help. They pin the orc between the two of them, and hack away. Eventually, the orc falls, but it takes awhile and both Hador and Libere are wounded, although not seriously, in the process.

They turn to the leader that Lindar has kept fascinated with his singing. Lindar switches his song to one that inspires courage, thus boosting Libere and Hador's combat ability. Both of them need it, particularly Hador who has a nasty cut on her lead arm, and can spare no time to heal it. Lindar will likely hear about that, later.

Libere and Hador use the same tactics on the leader that they used on the other orc, pinning her between them. Several times, Chloe directs magical energy balls at the orc, which helps significantly. Eventually, the leader falls, and the fight is over.

Hador takes time to heal her arm with one of her spells while Rilen, back in his normal form, heals Libere. They find some gold and a few gems on the bodies, and decide to take the 3 great axes to sell. The orcish armor is old and worn and not worth the trouble, and they do not want to bother with the falchions, either.

Not wishing to be in the area when the dire rats come to feed on the bodies, they move off a mile or so and camp by a stream among some willow trees. With the exception of Lindar, who is informed hotly and at great length by Hador never to stop singing to a fascinated foe until everyone is ready to fight, the rest of the night passes uneventfully.

 

Again, the next morning they continue north.

Chloe tells them time has become crucial.

They come to a range of hills with a road cutting through a pass, and take a path off to the side, instead. This area is known for local disputes, and they do not wish to engage in unnecessary fights that will slow them down.

Splice flies as fast as he can, up and down the pass, scouting ahead.

Hador is grouchier than usual and tells them the hills make her homesick. For once, Lindar does not tease her, stays well out of Hador's way. Libere and Rilen share the point, taking turns leading.

Nothing causes them to slacken their pace but the terrain.

To save time, they travel through the night until well after the moon rises before stopping to camp.

Morning comes, too early to feel completely rested. Splice resumes his advance scouting,
returns to inform Chloe, mind to mind, that the path they follow drops to the pass shortly,
and a band of gnomes is blocking the route.

A discussion ensues: Chloe informs everyone she will talk to the gnomes, not to fight unless there is no other option. They prepare a plan for the encounter.

 

A gnome mage, accompanied by an armored cleric, steps into the middle of the pass as Chloe and three of her companions near the blockade of boulders. She moves up to stand next to Libere, who has Le Morte sheathed. Watchful, his hand stays close to his blade.

Hador, following instructions, tries to look peaceable, but keeps Ferusaxe ready. She decides not to smile, but smooths out the frown that keeps forming between her bushy eyebrows. Behind her, Lindar starts to hum one of his songs: Chloe's negotiation skills increase sharply.

Rilen has changed to his fire eagle guise and, along with Splice, is perched on a rocky prominence high in the pass out of sight, waiting. Splice tells Chloe where each of the
gnomes are located, tells her they are armed with light crossbows and short swords.
There are not many, maybe 8 in all. Three of them stand between two large boulders, blocking the way through.

Chloe nods to the gnome mage, who nods in return. The gnome mage speaks first, demanding tribute to pass the blockage. They negotiate. Chloe offers the great axes Libere and Rilen looted from the orcs, knowing they are too large for the gnomes' use. As she expected, they are refused.

Next, she offers two extra magic scrolls, summoning spells, that Rilen created. Lindar examines his fingernails and hums a little louder. His eyes eager, the gnome mage asks to see them, looks at the bindings around the scrolls, opens them carefully and silently reads them. He tucks them in his carrying sack, bids the 3 men filling the gap in the blockage to step aside.

Chloe, primarily interested in information, reaches in her carry bag and holds out a hand with two gems on her palm. She asks the mage if he has heard of any get by a gnome rogue that went by the name Arrol the Deft. The gnome's eyes lift from the gems, looks askance at Chloe, notes the attentiveness she is giving him. He asks how she knows of Arrol.

They talk. Chloe explains. He tells her to ask for Silkeen, tells her where she may be found.

He refuses the gems when Chloe offers them again.

 

I share the ledge we perch on, and feel safe enough. The fire eagle does not flame when he perches. He is quite warm even so.

I sense the same presence that lives in the young one. Ah but so much stronger, yes. It burns within him.

I watch, I listen mind to mind. The one who sings, Lindar, he who carries the drum with the shiny discs, hides it in his carry sack, he does his work well. There is no fight.

We go next to the city, to the Glommers Guild.

 

They find Silkeen in a courtyard, sitting in the shadows thrown by the afternoon sun. She is hard to see, merely a darker tone pooling in the larger spill of shade. All in black, down to her hair, she wears a long hooded cloak that buries her face.

Word has traveled fast. Silkeen steps to the edge of the light, pulls the hood back, greets Chloe by name.

She is young. As with the others, she has been trained well in her father's skills, as far as she was willing to go. A ring on her finger, blackened silver, speaks to those skills, given as it is only to those have successfully passed a rogue's 3rd level challenges. On her other hand, she wears a ring of black tourmaline, gained after she turned her interest away from her father's trade, toward the wizard arts.

The cloak that hangs from her shoulders was Arrol's and bears a shadow-merge enchantment woven in the threads. So, too, did the black mithril dagger at her waist once belong to her father. It has a name, one that Arrol spoke only to Silkeen, and only once at that. Some names are best left unspoken. Opposite the dagger hangs a sling, a pouch of stones under it.

A carry-bag hangs from her shoulder. She indicates that she is ready to leave.

 

Perhaps we should unsticky this and sticky "In the Service of Her Majesty the Queen".

 

No, no, no. I am not done with this....

 

OOps, sorry! Please disregard previous. :errf: