Battle in the Ruins

(The Ruins of Lanta, 7^th August, 1600)

As the adventurers crouched waiting, it occurred to them to check the progress of their foes. Kobort nodded to Nosebiter and the owl soared into the air, peering around. What he saw was a bit of a setback to the group. Instead of following the same track as the first band, the two remaining Kin had organised their ten horsemen into groups of five and were sweeping from the sides, presumably hoping to support the original group with a flank attack. This meant the chances of them running into the elaborate web-and-wire trap were very small. Even worse, he reported two more clouds of dust, bigger than the first two, approaching the ruins from the north-east and south-east.

There wasn't very much the band could do except dig in and hope for the best.

Three minutes later, the thunder of hooves presaged the appearance of the oncoming foe. From the left, the huge female Lizard/Kin led her five riders - looking less than comfortable astride a horse; to the right, the armoured man who seemed to be in general charge (we shall refer to him as Artila hereafter) was leading the other five riders. By common agreement, all the companions directed their fire at the two kin; Kobort, Sack and Surya aimed at the Lizard/kin and Hildraft at Artila.

The effect was immediate. The lizard/kin was punched straight back over her cruppers and off her horse, vanishing into the dust at ground level with a crash audible at the tower even over the thundering hooves and assorted war cries. Artila appeared unbothered by the slight nick Hildraft's arrow put in his arm, however; he left his mighty sword slung over his shoulder and apparently started working on raising a spell.

While the others used the last seconds of the riders' closing to get another shot in, Kobort, from his vantage at the top of his rubble block, made his first use of a spell he'd been studying for a while and, now, finally, felt confident enough to try. He pointed his finger, and the tiny glowing pinpoint of a Fireball rushed across the battlefield straight at Artila. The Kin looked up at the last moment, and his eyes widened in surprise as the 'ball rushed up to him and burst right in his face.

Whoomph.

A twenty-foot sphere of flame and smoke erupted outwards from the Kin's position, and the wash of heat was clearly felt even where Kobort was standing. Three of his five riders were also caught in the blast. Trailing smoke, four dead horses tumbled out of the smoke-pall, rolling over and over like shot rabbits, and the watchers could see, behind that, various glimpses of twisted human bodies through the smoke and dust. The outer two horsemen rode on, splitting to ride around a large chunk of broken wall as they did so.

Quickly, Kobort slipped off his rock, and went running off through the invisible Web, screaming in mock panic and waving his arms. The rider who'd veered to the west swung off his track, pursuing this "easy target" - and was brought up brutally short as his horse struck the Web and was stopped dead at a full charge. All four of its' legs snapped instantly, and the rider was flung off - though he didn't go far, helplessly tangled in the Web as he was. Turning back, Kobort was able to make short work of him.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, the charging cavalry had reached the ruined tower, though with some additional casualties from missile fire. Sack, Surya and Hildraft each faced horsemen on the charge, leaping over the clumps of stone they were taking cover behind and lunging with single handed spears as they did so. Hildraft was wounded, though he did manage to wrest the spear from his opponent as he went hurtling past. Surya went one better; his swords flashed out and his foe dropped from his mount, dying.

The two riders slowed as they landed and galloped out of the far side of the tower, dropping their spears and drawing swords. As they did so, Sack sent more arrows after them, bringing down one. The last one made back towards his original target - Hildraft - as the dwarf dropped his bow and hefted his greataxe; but he never made it. Sack's lethal bow brought him down less than halfway there.

Glancing to his right, Surya noted with a curse that Artila of the Kin was back on his feet again, clearly furious, bruised from the fall, his armour dirty, scorched and battered, but none the worse for the effects of the fireball. Belatedly, Kobort recalled Hrothgault and the Necklace of Fireballs, and remembered that Kin were immune to fire.

As Artila stood up, he suddenly glanced over his shoulder in obvious surprise. He - and Kobort - could clearly see a big troop of horsemen - fifty or more - riding into the ruins from the northeast. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, all four heroes let drive at him (Kobort with a Magic Missile) with spectacular success - he pitched over backwards into the dust again. Then the newcomers galloped across the battlefield between him and the party, and they lost sight of him.

The last three riders - from the lizard/kin's group - swept across the centre of the battlefield towards Kobort's position, and then turned to attack the tower from the northwest. Kobort repeated decoy trick, and managed to lure another one to his doom. The others pressed on towards the tower, and were brought down by the archers. Quiet fell as the newly-arrived horsemen came to a halt, and the battle paused. For now.

Looking the riders up and down, Surya recognised their equipment and insignia. They were Imperial troops from the Erlyid; if he remembered their unit and rank-marks correctly, from the Imperial 3^rd Horse Regiment. As they came to a dead halt in a fingersnap and the front row's drawn bows came smartly up to bear on the party in precise lockstep, he reflected that - here at least - the legendary Imperial efficiency still worked.

Sack, never one to be threatened, bent his bow and presented it in turn. Kobort quietly popped back out of vision, Invisible again, and started to move towards the Imperials. Hildraft clutched his axe and glared as only a dwarf can, while Surya held his bow ready, though not mocked or drawn.

There was a stir, and three officers walked their horses forwards a few paces. The centre man - wearing the rank-tabs of an Imperial Colonel - gazed around himself with considerable contempt, before demanding loftily: "Who is in charge here?"

The group blinked at him in astonishment for a moment. Then Surya growled up at him; "We all are." The Colonel eyed him like pond life; "Ah," he said, packing plenty of scorn into his tone. "Adventurers. Grave-robbers. Common scum." He settled his shoulders.

"I am Colonel Darmagan of the 3^rd Imperial cavalry. You were observed entering the vaults under the ruins of the former Elven smith Elverandil," he barked in a parade-ground voice. "Part of the loot you will have recovered will comprise the sword, Mergil. We will take this weapon into custody, in the name of the Empire; all other plunder you may keep as pleases you, but the sword goes with us." He reached an arm backwards towards one of his aides and snapped his fingers. "Scroll." A small roll of parchment was handed him which he unrolled. "In case you are unaware what you have blundered on - unlikely - here is a description of the weapon. Ahem. 'The sword Mergil is made of steel, with a plain steel hilt and an ivory pommel carved to resemble a dragon's skull; the word "Mergil" is graven into the blade on both sides in the old Elven script' assuming you lot would even recognise it."

Along the line of horse-troopers, one man nudged his neighbour, and pointed to something odd he'd seen; a puff of dust from a hoof-print in the space between the Imperials and the tower. The two eyed it for a moment, and started when it happened again a couple of feet further on. They tried to tell their corporal, but he was intent on admiring the Colonel, and wasn't prepared to listen.

At this point Surya managed to get a word in edgeways. "Why should we give it to you?" he demanded bluntly.

"The sword belongs with the Empire," lectured the Colonel. "We are the last bastion of free humanity, the mightiest of the Free Kingdoms, man's last best hope against the horror, destruction and enslavement of the rule of the Dragon. My orders are to return it and I will do just that. Now, we can do this the easy way. Or we can do it the hard way."

Sack and Surya were just beginning pretty much identical predatory grins at this statement, when Kobort, who had by now crept invisibly right up to the Colonel's horse, reached quietly up with his wand and Polymorphed the hapless officer into the first thing that came into his head.

There was a frozen moment of silence, and then the fifteen-stone turnip that had seconds before been a Colonel in His Imperial Majesty's Cavalry toppled slowly off his horse and landed with a dull "thump" on the ground. Nobody said anything for a moment more. One of Darmagan's two aides appeared on the brink of complete hysteria; the other, though shocked, had retained more composure. He swung around and called into the unit: "Stretcher Bearer!". Two men dismounted and came forwards, trying to see if there was anything they could do. Kobort - who, inexplicably, was standing right next to the Colonel's horse, tapped one on the shoulder. "He'll change back by tomorrow," he said comfortingly.

Colonel Darmagan

"Right. Fine. Yes." the aide said, waving his arms around in a conciliatory fashion. "Now that that's established, let's start again. Let's negotiate."

A thought struck Surya. Walking up to the line of horses, and around the end, he looked over at where Artila had fallen, searching for his body. It wasn't there. Furious, he rounded on the young officer.

"Thanks to Colonel Cabbage there, one of the bloody Kin has escaped. We've fought four and killed three - two here - but the last one has escaped, thanks to you. So let's get this over with. We haven't got this sword you want, we didn't see it, and if you'd asked nicely I'd have told you that."

The aide, with an excruciating courtesy that the Colonel could never have mustered, requested permission to examine - with the band being allowed to unpack and repack - their possessions to verify this, and, once that was done, apologised for the misunderstanding. He offered the group supplies and water if they needed them; then, forming his troops up, he rode away into the Desolation, the turnip slung between two straining horses.

"Well, now, damn. I didn't did I?" replied his comrade. Both grinned suddenly. The colonel wasn't going to be pleased... but it was pretty likely that he would never, ever mention this day to anyone if he could at all help it.

Ten miles away from the ruins, as the troop cantered through the dry bed of what had once been a pretty stream leading to the Vanrassė river, one of the troopers fell unobtrusively back out of the line. Peeling off from the others, he dodged behind a rock and waited until the sound of hooves was quiet, before remounting and riding off northwards.

As he rode, a shimmer of shape changing magic rippled across his features, and instead of an Imperial cavalry soldier, a tall, evil featured Kin in battered plate armour and carrying a greatsword was riding along, shreds of a soldier's shirt hastily bandaged around his worst wounds...