January 25, 2003
|
- summary by Wendi -
We later traveled to the site of the Clan White Claw camp to scout it out -- without Kratz's horses, keeping in mind that nasty ravine from our last trip. We cross the ravine with no problem, noting our old tracks, and the carcasses of the 3 winter wolves we had killed the day before. Trying to be as quiet and unnoticable as we could be, we followed a set of wolf tracks east to find a more trodden path leading uphill to what apparently was a camp. As we were hiding along the trail, we heard howling and an occasional scream from what sounded like a young girl. A half-elf man began to walk down the path towards us and away from the camp. As he got closer to Aluvial, she realizes that it's the huntsmaster from the Whistling Stag Inn! No one decided to move against him, watching him walk by, instead concentrating on hiding... If he's got some secret agenda maybe it's better if he doesn't know that WE know... When he walked out of sight, Aluvial and Durlan silently climbed up the hill to scout out the camp. A large number of wolves howling allowed a rough estimate of their number -- maybe 30-40, and we saw a man talking to a small girl, who was bound and bleeding. While we watched, the girl was set free! She had a bite mark on her arm that looked recent... which (we assumed) meant she couldn't be saved anymore. We decided that the numbers were too great to meet them head-on, so we fled as quickly and silently as possible. We rendevouxed 1/2 mile away from the camp, and as we were standing there, a woman -appeared- behind Durlan! She stated that her name was Tajcha, and she asked us if we would help her to help those who live in the forest in peace. She wished for Aluvial to follow Saernuss the hunter from the Whistling Stag Inn (who we let walk past us earlier), by stepping through a shadowed portal, and tracking him... While Aluvial followed Tajcha's instructions, everyone else (Durlan, Gwydor, Tzar, and Kratz) headed back to town with Tajcha -- by teleporting back to the Oak House. Tajcha had mentioned something about going back to the Oak house to warn Amara of 'the prophecy'... Back at the Oak House, Tajcha told Amara about a dream she had a moon ago, in which three tribes of blackblood were united under some power, which ensued in the destruction of Quaervaar. Afterward, those who lived in the area of Quaervaar lived in disregard of the forest -- they were quick to judge, lived in the shadows, and enjoyed destroying things... things that Tajcha found extremely abhorrent and had vowed to prevent from happening. She declared that the attack would occur 3 days after Selune visited the Oak House. Tajcha sought us because we are of a similiar heart as her, and may have as much to lose as any of the town's inhabitants... She warned us to ready ourselves for battle, and the town of Quaervaar as well. Aluvial returns from tracking Saernuss, and reported that she had seen him give intricate looking weapons (hint - magical) to the assumed leaders of the lycanthrope tribes. He gave a short sword to Gaerran(the were-rat), and a long sword to Jarthon (the dire-were-badger). Tajcha had Amara send a messenger to Silverymoon to request aid from the famous Knights of Silverymoon and the Argent Legion. It would take a minimum of 4 days for the messenger's total journey though, given good weather... During this time we convened at the Oak House, where Amara had gathered the region's mages, druids, and rangers. The mages were not comfortable with trusting a woman so mysterious as Tajcha, especially since all these warnings were based on a dream that she had... but preparing for battle would not be such a bad thing for Quaervaar, as a precaution. The small council decided to evacuate the city before the attack (if the signs came to pass), leaving a small resistance to present a front for a surprise attack... While the enemy troops enter, their plan was to flank them on the rooftops with archers, and have ground troops in the interior of Quaervaar (on both flanks), ready to attack. The plan sounded good to us, so all we had to do is sit and wait for the visage of Selune to appear.... And it did... 2 days later, in the form of the visage of Selune cast through a window upon the alter of Silvanus in the Oak House. Selune and Silvanus together greeted Amara in a dream later that same night, and the countdown began... 3 nights until the attack... The villagers made preparations and so did we. Finally, on the day of the battle the villagers are moved from the city and those remaining suited up and took their positions... Druids readied the city by manipulating the form of the wood and causing spikes to form along the palisade walls, and mud to appeare along the city streets despite the temperature and the lack of precipitation. Clouds gathered around the city as well, and a small hole in them appeared above the center of the city, in the clouds... the hole widened and the moon shone down... right before a gathering of the small council in front of the Stag Inn. Fighters from the town of Quaervaar set up to ambush the incoming lycanthrope troops. Archers were positioned on rooftops, and other soon to be warriors were packed into the town's inner circle. The rangers, druids, and mages from the council were in front of the Whistling Stag Inn to meet the incoming troops head on... and right in front of them was where, in that sliver of moonlight coming down from the hole in the clouds, 13 people appeared as if they were waiting for the moonlight to show themselves. Those 13 people turned out to be Tajcha, with 12 stocky, curly-haired men. Tajcha, who is apparently known as informed us that the incoming lycanthropes knew of the ambush and that our group should situate ourselves in back of the Whistling Stag Inn instead of in front of it... and tells us that if we allow the forces at the back of the town to meet with the forces entering in the front of the town, then Quaervaar would fall during the course of the night. At the sound of horns from incoming troops, the 12 large men began to shift their forms into their animal state -- bears... One of them was a particularly large bear, almost 18 feet tall. The battle began as we heard the gates to the city being bashed open along with the sounds of howls and grunts of hundreds of men rushing through. 4 men were spotted approaching us from the rear of the city, while 2 very nasty looking humans and a large, vulture-like creature burst out of the door of the back of the Inn. Nalieva, who was in a tight alleyway, saw shadows of two men approaching her. Aluvial noted from her rooftop perch that two of the humans running towards the inn were none other than Jarthon and Gaerran! The grand total of creatures we were going to fight was 11... 2 were-men on Nalieva, 2 mages in the back, A priest of Malar, a human ranger, Jarthon and Gaerran, a Tenar'ri (identified by Tzar), a Spurlord of Cyric, and a cleric of Cyric. The spurlord was quite intimidating looking... He had pitch black full plate armor on, emblazoned with a skull with a purple burst below (symbol of Cyric), equipped with a huge longsword that trailed bizzare black flame, and had a skull-white hilt. The cleric of Cyric also wore the full plate armor, and was armed with skullblades. The ranger came around a corner, not even seeing Tzar -- who lined up a devastating shot with his mace, audibly crunching the ranger into a wall. The ranger was coughing up blood but was not unconscious and definitely not out of the game yet. Nalieve pulled a sneak attack on one of the guys approaching her, sliding her sword right between his ribs. Jarthon took a strike at Kratz but it just glanced off of his mithral armor. Gaerran, closest to the Whistling Stag Inn, made a run for the site of the main battle. The guy behind the one that Nalieve just attacked tried to jump up to the roof -- but fell short and a shingle he grabbed came off and smacked him right in the head. He winced, rubbing his head and stumbling around a bit. Gwydor laid a punch into the Tenar'ri, not even budging it. His second fist came in and left a nice mark though, luckily. The cleric of Cyric started chanting... Gaining the attention of Aluvial. Aluvial took aim at him, attempting to throw off his concentration. The first arrow impacted in the shoulder; a flaming burst exploding a small hole in it. The second arrow did hit also, but did not have as much of an effect. The cleric pointed at Aluvial and smiled. At that, the spurlord stretched out his arms, his skin growing chalk-white. His skin became lighter than his skull-helmet, and his eyes turned very dark, with a hint of a purple flame in them. He looked straight at Gwydor. Nalieve didn't quite escape an attack from Gunther, the were-boar she had just wounded. Her leg gushed with blood from a small but deep laceration, which didn't appear to be slowing down in its flow. The Tenar'ri lunged at Gwydor to bite him -- but it overextended itself and Gwydor managed to trip it! The Tenar'ri landed with a thud on its chest. Gwydor, quickly straddling the things back, snuck a punch in on its back, but it avoided a following punch. Gwydor pinched in a third punch, landing squarely in the Tenar'ri's back. It thrashed around, with Gwydor trying to hold on... Shots flew from the rooftop, as Aluvial attempted to further damage the cleric of Cyric. He didn't appear to be too concerned about any of the damage that was being inflicted upon him -- he acted more like it tickled than it hurt. The cleric spoke two words, and suddenly his form appeared to be in three different places, shifting back and forth. He smirked at Aluvial and sneered, "Try to hit me now, archer." The Soldier of Cyric and his sword trailing black flame came in at Gwydor. The area around which the sword came in contact with Gwydor's skin burned and bubbled with the heat of the dark flame. Nalieve extracting a vial of poison from a reinforced compartment in her leather armour breaks the vial and quickly coats her blade before slashing her unfortunate victim across the chest. About 2 seconds later as he slides back against a wall, his body starts spasming and shaking as he hemorrhages internally, caughing up blood as well as leaking it through various orifices. The twin mages that hadn't made any actions as of yet started chanting. The cleric of Malar, armed with huge metal claws, jumped out at Tzar but missed horribly and almost ripped out the throat of his ranger comrade! Aluvial, still on the rooftop of the Whistling Stag Inn, let fly two arrows directed at the Spurlord, who was about to engage in battle with Gwydor. One of the shots explodes into his back, inducing a horrid wail which caused everyone on the battle field to stop and look in the direction of his scream. With blood gushing out of the wound in his back, he raises his sword arm. The sword slowly disappeared and his hand began to flame a black fire like that which was on his sword. He extended his arm toward Aluvial and emitted a stream of black flame from his open hand. Aluvial was blown back several feet, up onto the peak of the rooftop, searing black flame issuing from where the blast hit her on the chest, forcing her body into convulsions, desperately trying to deal with the immense amount of pain it had suddenly found itself under. The cleric of Cyric finished his chant, his armor audibly creaking as his form swelled and muscles rippled under a divinely inspired new strength. With Gwydor still clinging on to the Tenar'ri, it rose to its full height, thrashing around, trying to get its wing-claws out from under Gwydor's weight. Using the situation to his advantage, Gwydor took a shot at the back of the Tenar'ri's head. In the Tenar'ri's rage, it appears to not even have felt it. Gwydor realizes that maybe it's a good time to use the regeneration capabilities of his magical gauntlets. Peeking over the rooftop, Aluvial took aim for her next target, Jarthon. Before he even realizes his fate, an arrow exploded with flame in his stomach. In disbelief, he looked to his attacker just in time to get the next arrow right between the eyes. The last image Jarthon had as he descends into the Nine Hells was the contents of his own head. The Spurlord, already enraged by the archer, decided that the archer needed to go. He summoned his longsword back into his grasp and plunged it into the wall of the Whistling Stag Inn, screaming while blasting a huge hole in it. He disappeared into the Inn. Whispering offerings to his god, the cleric of Cyric moved to touch Tzar. As he did so, Tzar, who had been struggling with his mace, released it, surprising the cleric -- and dodged to the side, while grabbing the outstretched arm of the cleric and sending him in a directed throw toward the V'rock, the cleric's intended attack on Tzar instead hitting the Tenar'ri! Back in the alleyway, Nalieve's victim quivers as blood oozes and bubbles out of all his exsisting orifices, and makes new ones to seep out of as well. Nalieve jumps over the soon to be corpse and slashes out at the next opponent, gashing him across the chest with the little poison she still had on the blade. The form of her opponent began to waver as it transformed into another state... As he transformed, Nalieve slashed at his stomach, inflicting a deep wound and visibly weakening the were-wolf. Gwydor loosened his grip a bit on the spastic Tenar'ri -- and fell flat on his ass; the wind knocked out of him. The Tenar'ri whipped around to rip its claws into Gwydor's chest taking full advantage of the prone monk. Gwydor was hit by more than one of the flailing appendages of the V'rock. With the cleric of Cyric dazed by what he had just done to the Tenar'ri, Tzar grabbed a hold of the cleric's throat and makes eye contact with him. Uttering a prayer to his deity, Tzar causes the skin of the clerics throat to be ripped in the form of a big long gash down the throat and chest of the man, blood gushing down Tzar's arms. The cleric's eyes rolled back up into his head as his breathing ceased to come. Not knowing exactly what the Spurlord is planning on doing in the Inn, Aluvial decides it's probably a good time to change her position. She leaped down from the rooftop, then touched down on the ground quickly to propel herself up to another nearby rooftop, utilizing the grace for which elves are reknown. As she secured her new position, the Spurlord appears on the roof of the Inn! He glares at Aluvial, enraged, and shouts, "You coward!" Aluvial attempts a quick shot at the soldier, but her arrows thud right into the towering steel shield. The spurlord, unconcered with the incoming arrows, smiled at Aluvial as his hands went dark again and he took aim towards Tzar. Tzar saw the action on the rooftops, expecting the incoming blast, barely dodging out of the way as a big smoldering dark mark appeared on the ground where he was moments earlier. A series of quickly spoken, barely audible, words were heard, spoken from the back of the city, and suddenly a huge gust of wind hurtling towards Aluvial picked her up and threw her on the ground next to the ground battle. The evil ranger of Malar made a move against Tzar which ended up going wide and hitting the Spurlord instead, who had dropped off the roof to engage Aluvial! With him distracted, Aluvial, recovered from her fall, pointed an arrow straight for his open side. It buried underneath his ribcage area, and a following explosion leaves a bloody hole with an arrow sticking out of it, on fire. Tzar obtained the deceased cleric of Cyric's sword and wields it just in time to defend against an attack from the advancing priest of Malar. Tzar stabbed straight out as the priest came in at full speed -- plowing right into the sword and leaving a deep puncture wound. Gwydor sprang from the ground with a spinning heel kick directed toward the demon's knee. The Tenarri's balance was totally thrown off, and it toppled from the loss of support of its weight. Taking advantage of the surprise Gwydor's second heel followed through and lodged perfectly in the Tenar'ri's throat, disconnecting its windpipe. The demon shook, quivering in its last moments on this plane. The Spurlord, suddenly obsessed with the accidental hit from the ranger, reversed his grip on his sword and drove the blade right down behind the cowering Ranger's collarbone, impaling him all the way down to the guy's pelvis. From the flames issuing from under the ranger's armour, the ranger's blood sizzled and boiled causing sickening gurgling noises. The Spurlord pushed a foot against the body of the ranger, spitting in his face as he retracted his sword. Aluvial took aim for the hole in the Spurlord's side, hitting him in exactly the same place as before. The shot actually blew out the other side of his armor, causing the Spurlord to fall to his knee, blood trickling out from between his lips. Taking advantage of the situation, Tzar lunged at the spurlord, grasping him by the shoulder while uttering the very words he found himself saying moments ago at the death of the cleric. The results of this prayer did not replicate those of the last however. A skull bathed in black flame formed above the Spurlords head, looking down with empty sockets upon Tzar. The spurlord slowly turned upon Tzar with a look of absolute bewilderment, which slowly turned to a smile. In slow, small bursts, laughs issued forth from the Spurlords blood stained, chalk white lips. Making eye contact with Tzar the man stood full, laughing obscenely in the face of his seemingly doomed opponent. The Spurlord then turned on his heels and left however. The two surprised twin mages, who had advanced into the clearing between the Inn and the houses, exchanged confused looks and then followed the Spurlord out of the city. The cleric of Malar issued a quick curse to the Spurlord, but was cut down in mid issuance by the newly weilded longsword of Tzar. Meanwhile, in the alleyway, Nalieve continued a battle begun a while ago with the Were-wolf Bending Blade. The creature, having transformed, tripped her and impaled her through the stomach with it's vampiric short sword. Feeling her essence leaving her and her blood filtering into the hollow tubes of the blade and witnessing the strange glowing emenations of energy swirling mistlike up the arm of the werewolf, Nalieve grew desperate for a means to rid herself of the new combatant. Quickly forming a plan, Nalieve grabbed her last remaining vial of poison, broke it quickly on the icey surface of the street, and plunged it into the leg of the werecreature. The momentary register of pain and relaxation of leg muscles in the creature allowed Nalieve to retract the legs being held under him, and place a forceful kick fully into the chest of the beast, which she used the recoil of to send her into a backwards roll, finding herself on her feet and in fighting position. As her enemy dealt with the poison coursing through his veins, Nalieve plunged her longsword into the chest of the creature, aiding the internal havoc of the poison in sending the creature to it's death. We inspected the corpses of those that didn't get away, and found tons of really cool loot, although somewhat tainted because of its association with Cyric. On the cleric of Cyric: On the cleric of Malar: Left behind by the Spurlord: On Gunther: On Jarthon: On Bending Blade (the second guy Nalieve took out): Characters Leveled: Gwydor(10), Aluvial(11), Tzar(10), Nalieve(10)
|
