(Near) Death of a Salesman

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dergon darkhelm
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(Near) Death of a Salesman

Post by dergon darkhelm »

I put this on the WD forums the other day, but it was suggested I place it here. I'm not the world's strongest writer, but it was a very intense ingame experince I wanted to relate.

______________________________________

A deserted forest road, Sword Mountains near Waterdeep:

The hooded man walked quietly along the edge of the well worn trail as it wound towards the City of Splendors skirting the foothills of the Sword Mountains.

The travelling had been quiet throughout the day. The usually cautious Malcer Angalstrand stopped to light a pipe, stuffing it full of nexalan so that it would last a long while on his walk. His mind raced with ideas relating to the events of the past weeks, helping to pass the time as he made his way ever southward.

Perhaps it was due to these distractions that Malcer never heard the snapping of twigs as the two menacing creatures stepped forth from a copse of trees near the road. Brutish looking orcs, each with large notched swords raised high, charged the diminutive lone traveller.

By the time it registered, it was already too late to dodge the first blow. Malcer Angalstrand cursed his earlier mental preoccupation as a heavy strike cut cleanly though his leathers into his right shoulder, knocking him back a step. He felt the warmth of the bood as it flowed freely down his side.

The second orc came in hard from his left while the other stepped sideways and raised his sword again, already preparing a second strike. Reacting quickly, Malcer dived to his right and fell into a tight roll, trying to duck past the creatures. Normally dextrous and nimble, this day Malcer felt awkward. His enchanted boot caught an exposed root, making his roll gangly and slow. The second orc's sword hit hard across the back of his head.

For a moment the ground spun and his vision doubled, only to be replaced by the intense pain of another open wound. He sputtered out from his mouth a mix of dried leaves, dirt, and fresh blood that left him coughing as some passed into his windpipe. Malcer knew he was in trouble. Regaining his balace, he scrambled to his feet and broke into a full run, both orcs in hard pursuit. Normally Malcer would have easily distanced the heavily armored clods, but the wounds were already taking their toll.

He knew he was not far from the bridge that marked the edge of the small forest trading post. He had to make it there.

The orcs were close enough on Malcer's heels that he could smell their fetid breath. The creatures felt they had their prey, mocking and jeering in their guttural tongue as they chased the man.

A few hundred steps went on like this until Malcer could hear the sound of rushing water at the bottom of the gorge ahead. He had made the bridge. Malcer Angalstrand summoned what strength he could to open into a sprint across the chasm and into the ajacent village.

Then his heart sank...................

Three more orcs held the bridge. One wore a large, feathered headress and a mask fashioned in the shape of a wolf's head while the other two were equal in size to the brutes already in pursuit of the tabacconist. Before Malcer could alter course, he saw the masked orc's hands move as he entered a chant. Just then Malcer felt a pierce of an arrow unseen as it entered his chest just right of the breastbone, followed by an intense sickly smell as an acid burn began to blacken the skin around wound into a foul eschar.

He thought to call a spell of healing, then scowled intensely realizing the orcs were too close to risk such a complicated set of actions.

He grabbed at a vial on his waistbelt and quickly emptied its contents into his mouth. The orcs howled in frustration as the small human disappeared before their eyes....................all except the one orc who had landed the first blow.

Though Malcer was now invisible, the orc swung anyway. Taking a final wild strike at Malcer's last location, the huge orc's blade struck home solidly into Malcer's chest.

Had anyone been able to see the look of agony and .....was it fear......on Malcer's face as he neared death they would have surely felt pity for the scarred man.

He fell to one knee, unable to do more than crawl as another blow came high just over the merchant's head. Had he not just fallen, the blow would surely have ended his life. Instead, Malcer, his breathing thready, barely clinging to life crawled onto the bridge as the orcs rushed past him.

It seemed like hours before Malcer Angalstrand made the small outpost South of the gorge although it had really been but a few long minutes. A large contingent of Waterdhavian troops held the forest with strong barricades of spiked darkwood, spears at the ready.

A footman wearing the symbol of the Waterdeep guard rushed out to aid Malcer while another let out a cry to come to aid.

"Get this man to the Inn!" Malcer heard as he let his eyes close......
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Tue Sep 26, 2006 8:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
PCs: NWN1: Trailyn "Wayfarer" Krast, Nashkel hayseed

NWN2: ??

gsid: merado_1
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darrenhfx
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Post by darrenhfx »

Sounds like you were that close to having the dice in your hand ready to roll up a new char. :)

Harrowing indeed.
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Cynon
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Post by Cynon »

*Wipes sweat from face*
If honour is truth and a lie is respect, then a secret is sacred.
Confide in me my friend and I shall love you like no other.
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dergon darkhelm
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Re: (Near) Death of a Salesman

Post by dergon darkhelm »

For all who are playing on the newly resurrected Waterdeep NWN1 server ...

our experience with the Sword Mountain orcs reminded me of this .... from many years ago.
PCs: NWN1: Trailyn "Wayfarer" Krast, Nashkel hayseed

NWN2: ??

gsid: merado_1
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