Previous story post
1,350 words
5:42 am, 25th Oct. 204 PR
Matthias and Auriochos sit in the second of the four Silver Standard Trading Company wagons where they're parked on the northern edge of Helix. This caravan will put out soon, bound for Smokeshadow and from there on to see Baron Orvair Leonas in Caldamis.
Our heroes have each been given 15 GP by Rafell, Quartermaster of the Seekers in Helix — for incidental expenses along the way to Caldamis.
Altogether, this caravan contains four wagons accompanied by our two Seekers, by Caravanmaster Thromb, and by the Eld Brothers — four actual brothers from Sizemordicus, each a 2nd level Fighter. They make extremely good use of their mutual Flanking Strike Heroic Deed.
The times being dangerous, Mattie is not really surprised when the caravan is attacked by a large band of gnolls. He sighs, glances over at Aury, then picks up his staff. As the noises of gnolls clashing with the Eld Brothers breaks the morning silence, Mattie casts Mirror Image and Blur on himself and then jumps down from the wagon.
You can review details of the ensuing battle here.
A tough fight, indeed. Outnumbered by three to one, and against foes individually more capable combatants than our caravan members. Sadly, Olophorn Eld is slain. Were it not for the caravan master's wand and the pair of fireball scrolls brought along by Mattie from the Chapterhouse, undoubtedly more people would have died.
Given the very difficult challenge rating, the death, and the knowledge that will come of this encounter and the momentum it will give, I'm factoring in XP for story award, eighteen gnolls, and two leader gnolls. Divided among the surviving five caravan members, it comes to 3,900 XP per survivor. Both Aury and Mattie gain a level. Or at least they would have both gained a level...
...as the gnolls disengage and put distance between themselves and the caravan members, two of them fire their longbows in parting shots. Not particularly well-aimed, but one of the arrows enters Auriochos d'Rosenberg's left eye, exiting the back of his head — the arrow lodging with its fletching scrunched into the cleric's eye socket. He actually blinks once, with his uninjured eye, as if startled. Then he collapses backward, dead.
Hours later, night has fallen. The caravan leader, a normally jovial halfling named Earnest Thromb, sits quietly puffing on a pipe and passing around a bottle of perfectly clear, devastatingly strong drink, to the survivors. This stuff could be used as a cleaning solution!
After the gnoll battle, he pressed forward hard and fast, determined to put miles between the caravan and any gnoll second-wave that might be coming. Half an hour before sundown, he guided the wagons along a rutted track through a copse of woods. On the other side was a palisaded farmhouse, woodshed, chicken coup, and freshwater well. An old human farmer, Grant Caddyshanks, owns the place.
This farm is situated about a dozen miles south-southeast of Phandalin, and perhaps four miles northwest of Smokeshadow. The old man joined you at first, directed Mintarn and Caspius to the ricks of firewood stacked behind his tanning shed. Caddyshanks and Thromb were in serious discussion for a long time after your arrival.
Now, three hours after dark has fallen, those who wish to eat have eaten — fire-roasted chicken and potatoes and cups of chicken broth.
Of the three surviving Eld brothers, Belphor seems to be taking Olophorn's death the hardest. He keeps taking a bullseye lantern and lifting the canvas flap on the back of Wagon Three, as if to assure himself that the bodies of his brother Olophorn, and of Seeker Auriochos d'Rosenberg, haven't disappeared.
Olophorn: 21/21 (deceased)
Belphor: 21/28
Mintarn: 20/24
Caspius 17/28
A dark shadow is upon Matthias, and after drinking more than he should, he walks apart from the others within the palisaded compound until the firelight and their voices are dimmed. "Lord of Hell, hear me," he breathes, cutting his left forearm with his dagger, using it as an athame. "Grant me the power to avenge my friend and I shall in turn commit myself to the overthrow of the doltish worship of Green Man, the self-righteous prattling of the servants of Saint Ygg. Strengthen me with your infernal might and I will exalt you in the land and cast others down before you!"
At length, Matthias returns to the firelight — infused by the power of the pact he has made with Asmodeus. "Caravan Master, may I have a word in private?" Thromb looks up, puffing his pipe. "Aye, of course." He stands, looks at Caspius and gestures to the hourglass where it sits on a boulder by the fire. "Relieve Belphor at the change of the watch, would you?" And then the halfling merchant and the Seeker mage are moving away, leaving the firelight behind.
Matthias rests a hand of the halfling caravan master's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "So, you understand clearly what you must do, Earnest?"
The halfling nods, grins. "Yes, slay or disable the others. I can't believe I was so completely taken in by the Brothers. They seem so young and idealistic."
Matthias squeezes the halfling's shoulder fraternally. "Do not blame yourself, worthy merchant. Evil is wily and deceitful and oft approaches in the guise of aid. My eyes have been opened. Only the two of us — and the pair of slain worthies who now lie lifeless in yon wagon — were without guile. The others were in league with the gnolls."
The halfling's face darkens angrily, and he rests his hand on a wand tucked through his belt. He glances quickly toward the farmhouse. "Let me warn Grant; I wouldn't want him to misunderstand and put an arrow in our—
"No. It isn't needful. The old man sleeps soundly. Now we must act, and quickly!"
◦◦◦
As the two return to the fire, Merchant Thromb yawns, stretches, and tosses another stick on the fire before sitting down on the boulder he's been using as a seat. "Caspius, I see the sand is almost run out." — he eyes the hourglass. "Go ahead and relieve Belphor at his post outside the palisade. Matthias, would you accompany him? Scan with your magic. I would hate to fall victim to an ambush by the surviving gnolls. I don't think they've ever bothered Caddyshank's place, but better safe than sorry..."
While Matthias and Caspius disappear beyond the halo of firelight, Master Thromb moves toward the nearest wagon. "Tarn, you up for a bite of grub? Drinking makes me hungry!" He ties back a canvas flap and sets the lantern down just inside the back of the wagon, reaches in and can be heard seemingly mumbling to himself.
"I could maybe wolf down some more of that Eastdale beef jerky, if you've still got plenty," Mintarn acknowledges, his response delayed a second or two longer than usual, no doubt because of inebriation.
Three magic missiles slam into Mintarn's chest and he reflexively jerks to his feet, confused and alarmed, and trying to rip his longsword from its sheath. He coughs, half-choked because Thromb's ambush took him just as he had filled his mouth with ale and was swallowing.
Nearly tripping, he rights himself and his sword clears its scabbard while he scans the campsite, frantically seeking the source of this attack. Three more missiles rip into to his torso, and Mintarn falls dead, his sword and sword arm (from the elbow forward) landing in the fire.
◦◦◦
"Hold a moment," Matthias says curtly as he and Caspius exit the compound. A couple dozen yards away, Belphor keeps watch atop a hill. "Now ... die, Caspius!" he commands in a low voice, menacing voice. The fighter freezes, jaw working, and tears course down his face with his mental effort. With a jerk he growls and surges toward Matthias, hand going to his sword hilt. Not fast enough — Matthias' dagger, Hellbane envenomed, plunges into Caspius' throat.
Continue the story