Hand at the Wheel
Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 8:50 pm
The first I saw of them was when the halfling woman walked into view. Her form was barely visible beyond the light of our fire, but the captain seemed to recognize her in the early dawn light. Loxy, he called her, and she answered true. Stedd had sent us to help this little lady reclaim what loomed not two-score yards to the north – the fallen village of Shining Falls. Hobgoblins held it now; brutes of warring strength that none had been able to clear before. Many of them were remnants of the Delimbyr War, hardened bestial soldiers who would retreat for nothing and fight to the last man. We planned on returning the favor. Loxy and her female consort, Arana, were only the first ones to cross the river at Celdor’s; soon a small army came over in boats. And what a hodgepodge of forces it was. Aside from our unit of 5 Red Boar guards, Loxy had under her command 4 elite of the Loudwater guard along with a menagerie of irregular troops. Numbering amongst them was another halfling (this one a male), a huge barbarian, a female magikar, a suspicious-looking hooded fellow, a monk whom I would guess would be more comfortable copying tomes, and the fattest dwarf I’ve ever laid eyes on. They stopped at the pass through the hills to the bottom of the Falls and the ruined village and awaited the dawn.
As the sun began to shed its light over the picturesque falls we could see how they got their names. The water carried the light down its length as though the sun itself was pouring out from the Greypeaks into the village. But, as your eyes followed the water it was quickly overcast with the smoking ruins of the village, dotted with campfires and makeshift tents. The force stood on the near side of the south bridge as plans were made. The hooded fellow, a curious man named Smoke, went ahead. He crept unseen along the bridge and relayed the numbers of the advance force of hobgoblins. Five, he told us, and the attack was on. Spells were cast which alerted the hobgoblins to our presence and the fight began on the west end of the bridge. The barbarian and the dwarf cut through hobgoblins, cleaving them in two as they made their way toward the bridge. The smell of blood filled the air quickly as I carried the banner of the Red Boar to the front lines. The guard force of beasts fell quickly, their dismembered bodies showing grim prediction to the fate that would befall the rest of the tribe.
The north bridge was the next target. It was protected with archers and arrows rained on us as we advanced quickly. I was first upon the bridge, planting the sharpened end of the flag through the chest of a hobgoblin archer. I pinned him to the ground as blood ran freely from his gaping maw. Not far behind me the rest of the troops quickly flooded the bridge, taking down archer after archer, the River Shining quickly flowing red with the blood of our enemies. The halfling woman showed amazing ferocity in the face of battle, dodging beneath the legs of the beasts only to come around behind them, slashing the back and removing their heads as they fell. Chaos ensued as we crossed the bridge and the main force of hobgoblins met us.
The fighting was slow as we pushed our way across the bridge, hobgoblins falling dead into the river and floating away – a morbid rapid of blood and gore. Our force of Red Boars held the bridge as the main force advanced. The Loudwater guard fell back, one of their men having died at the north bridge, and held the southern crossing. From my vantage point I watched the battle continue. Loxy darted ahead, dodging and weaving through the hobgoblins forces as she laid a straight line to the chieftain’s camp - behind her followed the Smoke fellow and the fat dwarf. The magikar littered the field with spells that lay low any hobgoblins unfortunate enough to stay in their paths. Cries of pain and war echoed through the valley as the sun could be seen rising above the Falls. As I looked to the sunrise I saw the purpose of our plan. Atop the lowest falls stood four archers, their bows and bodies silhouetted against the rising sun. As the weaker beasts fled, their escape up the falls was cut short by a hail of arrows from above. One of them fell low, taking two or three others with it as it rolled down the crudely-hewn stairs that led up the mountain side. Yet they still advanced in their frantic retreat, each taken down in turn like lambs to the slaughter. One managed to reach the top only long enough to receive an arrow betwixt the eyes and tumble down the stairs. The blood that flowed from the beasts was so great as to create a fourth Blood Fall that cascaded down the staircase, further reddening the river.
The main force slowly pushed the hobgoblins back into their chieftain’s camp in a grotto to the north of the village. The hobgoblins force has been culled to their strongest few and now shamans appeared from the protected grotto. The shamans cast spells and summoned beasts to their aid, increasing their numbers by one-half fold. Blood flew as the barbarian and Smoke helped the dwarf and Loxy cut their way to the chieftain. In the chaotic fray I lost track of the others but for fleeting cries of bestial pain as I saw a hobgoblin fall by the hands of the others deep within the village or the flash of magic as the sorceress killed yet another hobgoblin. The chieftain was well protected in his grove when they came upon him. His bodyguards – no less than ten of the largest hobgoblins I have ever seen – and his personal shamans attacked first attempting to hold back the advancing death. The chieftain fell upon the group and in the throng he was beheaded and fell lifeless at the entrance to his camp. After the death of their leader, the rest of the hobgoblins fell quickly, some while fleeing, others in suicidal attacks against the group.
As the last of the hobgoblins were being taken care of, yet another surprise was in store. From out of the stone surrounding the grove four dwarves in golden-red armor appeared, melting out of the stone as if passing through air. One called out in their native tongue and the others ran to help kill the nearest hobgoblins. Meanwhile, the apparent leader ran for the large stone at the center of the chieftain’s grove and pulled something from his pocket, shoving it with a great force into the stone itself. With another loud call in dwarven, the stout force again ran to the cliffs, disappearing into the stone as easily as they had appeared. We all stood dumbfounded at what had happened when all of a sudden the fat dwarf shouted to stand away from the large stone. The stone began to crack and shoot forth red light as the ground shook. Suddenly, the stone exploded into thousands of tiny shards that flew from its center, revealing the truth about the stone – it was in fact a huge red crystal! What remained of the crystal hummed a moment and went dim, leaving just a cracked base of what used to be a 7-foot tall structure.
Some of the party seemed quite upset and angered at the destruction of the crystal, but I couldn’t make out their motives. The dwarf and barbarian climbed the blood-soaked stairs to the east and made sure all of the evil force had been slain as the Loudwater guard took up posts around the village to secure it against any who might think to retake it. We, the Red Boar, decided to stay as well until a larger force of guards could be posted. Many of the victors left that evening after searching the ruins late into the afternoon. Loxy and her friend Arana stayed the evening in the ruins, much against our urgings to do otherwise. They left the next day as builders arrived to start on the ruined tower of the Gauntlet Deogol. I’ve been told that the village will be returned to the hands of the halflings as soon as the tower is built and order returned to the area. There is much to do, but our time is through here and our job is done.
- Justin Cross, Standard Bearer of the Red Boar
As the sun began to shed its light over the picturesque falls we could see how they got their names. The water carried the light down its length as though the sun itself was pouring out from the Greypeaks into the village. But, as your eyes followed the water it was quickly overcast with the smoking ruins of the village, dotted with campfires and makeshift tents. The force stood on the near side of the south bridge as plans were made. The hooded fellow, a curious man named Smoke, went ahead. He crept unseen along the bridge and relayed the numbers of the advance force of hobgoblins. Five, he told us, and the attack was on. Spells were cast which alerted the hobgoblins to our presence and the fight began on the west end of the bridge. The barbarian and the dwarf cut through hobgoblins, cleaving them in two as they made their way toward the bridge. The smell of blood filled the air quickly as I carried the banner of the Red Boar to the front lines. The guard force of beasts fell quickly, their dismembered bodies showing grim prediction to the fate that would befall the rest of the tribe.
The north bridge was the next target. It was protected with archers and arrows rained on us as we advanced quickly. I was first upon the bridge, planting the sharpened end of the flag through the chest of a hobgoblin archer. I pinned him to the ground as blood ran freely from his gaping maw. Not far behind me the rest of the troops quickly flooded the bridge, taking down archer after archer, the River Shining quickly flowing red with the blood of our enemies. The halfling woman showed amazing ferocity in the face of battle, dodging beneath the legs of the beasts only to come around behind them, slashing the back and removing their heads as they fell. Chaos ensued as we crossed the bridge and the main force of hobgoblins met us.
The fighting was slow as we pushed our way across the bridge, hobgoblins falling dead into the river and floating away – a morbid rapid of blood and gore. Our force of Red Boars held the bridge as the main force advanced. The Loudwater guard fell back, one of their men having died at the north bridge, and held the southern crossing. From my vantage point I watched the battle continue. Loxy darted ahead, dodging and weaving through the hobgoblins forces as she laid a straight line to the chieftain’s camp - behind her followed the Smoke fellow and the fat dwarf. The magikar littered the field with spells that lay low any hobgoblins unfortunate enough to stay in their paths. Cries of pain and war echoed through the valley as the sun could be seen rising above the Falls. As I looked to the sunrise I saw the purpose of our plan. Atop the lowest falls stood four archers, their bows and bodies silhouetted against the rising sun. As the weaker beasts fled, their escape up the falls was cut short by a hail of arrows from above. One of them fell low, taking two or three others with it as it rolled down the crudely-hewn stairs that led up the mountain side. Yet they still advanced in their frantic retreat, each taken down in turn like lambs to the slaughter. One managed to reach the top only long enough to receive an arrow betwixt the eyes and tumble down the stairs. The blood that flowed from the beasts was so great as to create a fourth Blood Fall that cascaded down the staircase, further reddening the river.
The main force slowly pushed the hobgoblins back into their chieftain’s camp in a grotto to the north of the village. The hobgoblins force has been culled to their strongest few and now shamans appeared from the protected grotto. The shamans cast spells and summoned beasts to their aid, increasing their numbers by one-half fold. Blood flew as the barbarian and Smoke helped the dwarf and Loxy cut their way to the chieftain. In the chaotic fray I lost track of the others but for fleeting cries of bestial pain as I saw a hobgoblin fall by the hands of the others deep within the village or the flash of magic as the sorceress killed yet another hobgoblin. The chieftain was well protected in his grove when they came upon him. His bodyguards – no less than ten of the largest hobgoblins I have ever seen – and his personal shamans attacked first attempting to hold back the advancing death. The chieftain fell upon the group and in the throng he was beheaded and fell lifeless at the entrance to his camp. After the death of their leader, the rest of the hobgoblins fell quickly, some while fleeing, others in suicidal attacks against the group.
As the last of the hobgoblins were being taken care of, yet another surprise was in store. From out of the stone surrounding the grove four dwarves in golden-red armor appeared, melting out of the stone as if passing through air. One called out in their native tongue and the others ran to help kill the nearest hobgoblins. Meanwhile, the apparent leader ran for the large stone at the center of the chieftain’s grove and pulled something from his pocket, shoving it with a great force into the stone itself. With another loud call in dwarven, the stout force again ran to the cliffs, disappearing into the stone as easily as they had appeared. We all stood dumbfounded at what had happened when all of a sudden the fat dwarf shouted to stand away from the large stone. The stone began to crack and shoot forth red light as the ground shook. Suddenly, the stone exploded into thousands of tiny shards that flew from its center, revealing the truth about the stone – it was in fact a huge red crystal! What remained of the crystal hummed a moment and went dim, leaving just a cracked base of what used to be a 7-foot tall structure.
Some of the party seemed quite upset and angered at the destruction of the crystal, but I couldn’t make out their motives. The dwarf and barbarian climbed the blood-soaked stairs to the east and made sure all of the evil force had been slain as the Loudwater guard took up posts around the village to secure it against any who might think to retake it. We, the Red Boar, decided to stay as well until a larger force of guards could be posted. Many of the victors left that evening after searching the ruins late into the afternoon. Loxy and her friend Arana stayed the evening in the ruins, much against our urgings to do otherwise. They left the next day as builders arrived to start on the ruined tower of the Gauntlet Deogol. I’ve been told that the village will be returned to the hands of the halflings as soon as the tower is built and order returned to the area. There is much to do, but our time is through here and our job is done.
- Justin Cross, Standard Bearer of the Red Boar
