Border Towers

Kobur, Erean Mountains, 21st November 1601

Hildraft used a Sending to converse with Elverandil, explaining the problem and his desire to redeem the tainted relics. The Mastersmith was ready enough to accept the challenge, although he confessed to never having worked with he glasslike substance forming the armour - and Hildraft's own axe. He commented that Durgeddin had done so, and that he would attempt to learn the technique.

Hildraft Wind Walked to Belamir that night, and left one of the terrible black battleaxes with the elven smith.

Reital, New Tellare, 22nd November 1601

Both Inveros Moonflame and Billy the Bear had announced the previous day that they would not accompany the heroes on their expedition to the ruined port. Billy had decided to take some time to get a proper grip on being who and what he now was. Sack made sure he had plenty of money and good advice, and Hildraft bestowed on each of them an Imbued spell of Sending, allowing them to speak with each other in dire need. Then the once-bear bade farewell to his companions, and set off through the snow.

Moonflame had originally decided he'd better return home to Thornal to rejoin his order, but Hildraft persuaded him instead to head north and visit the Kordasa. After a little discussion, the idea of learning from the paladins of Kord, and of teaching them his specialized fiend-hunting skills, began to appeal to him, and he took the letter of introduction Hildraft wrote for him and departed.

Reital, New Tellare, 23rd November 1601

Four horsemen, then, rode out from Reital under the leaden winter sky that morning. Surya, Sack, Hildraft and Hansen the Bard heading south across the snow-covered landscape.

The journey to the nearest of the border towers took the best part of a week, during which the terrain grew gradually rougher. Covered in snow as it was, the vegetation was hard to discern, but the numbers of trees dwindled as they moved southwards into the spoil of the Desolation. They encountered no-one, though wolves could be heard howling occasionally at night, and the fifth morning brought them into sight of the first of the towers.

Cyrn Weithaelin, Southern Oret, 28th November 1601

The nearest "tower" - in fact, like all of them, a small castle -  Cyrn Weithaelin, nestled atop a steep and treacherous cliff. The main tower backed onto the ledge, and smaller towers connected by walls defended the approach. Outbuildings, clearly recently added, clustered inside the walls, accommodating the bulk of the population; signs of farming were visible under the snow outside the defences.

While the others rode calmly up to the main gates, leading Sack's horse, Sack slipped around to the cliff's base, and casually scaled the horrific precipice, followed by the main keep tower itself, until he was perched just under the upper battlements, shielded by his chaemelon ring and the stealth properties of Bramandin's armour. He prepared his bow - just in case - and waited to see how the others got on.

Below at the main gates, the others had been hailed by an alert but unenthusiastic guard. After a brief hesitation, they gave their names (without any qualifications) and the guards, who were clearly instructed to admit anyone who'd admit who they were, allowed them in.

They were escorted through a strong barbican, then across the main ward of the castle towards the keep. The ward itself, once designed as a parade ground and killing zone, was clearly well on its' way to developing into a good-sized town, with freshly-made wooden buildings cluttering the space. In the centre was a large stone structure, clearly intended as a barracks, which was now being used as a town hall and general communal building.

The guards escorted Surya, Hildraft and Hansen across the ward and into the keep tower. On the second floor they were presented to a solid, powerful man in what was obviously once Dragonarmy livery, though the insignia had all been removed. This was the tower's Commander, Torvir Erom. 

Word of the Slaying had reached Erom,  and he knew he no longer served the Dragon, and that the Kin government of Oret was no more. Judging that the only way to survive abandonment was military discipline, he held his command  together by strength of will, foraging and farming and fighting off odd attacks from bandits and the Curst. Times had been hard, but they had managed to farm enough to survive the winter, and he was confident that his little community could flourish come the spring.

Without revealing their exact roles in what had happened, the travellers related the recent history of New Tellare, and implied that they were empowered to negotiate on the new realm's behalf and they offered Erom the chance to join his orphaned garrison to the arising power.

Erom, having asked some pretty shrewd questions about the alliance, was happy to accept - although he did say that, to be fair, he would have to propose it to his men. Given that the alternative to accepting alliegance   to New Tellare was to be provided enough gold for a decent start and allowed to leave (in the dead of winter on the edge of the Desolation), he seemed to think they'd accept, and no-one could find a reason to disagree.

Of course, Erom was hedging his bets. He could agree now, and it would cost him nothing. He need do nothing, unless and until the promised supplies and reinforcements arrived from this New Tellare. If they didn't; well, nothing would have changed. If they did - then he would cheer with the rest.

Meanwhile, Sack had descended from his perch, and moved stealthily from place to place inside, exploring and studying, looking for potential trouble. He saw nothing untoward, nothing to contradict the impression of a small town coming into being within the shelter of the castle.

Finally he made his way to the front of the keep, and knocked on the door. The bewildered guards had taken him up to join the meeting currently happening, and he was duly introduced to Erom, who interested him not at all.

Sure enough, when Erom gathered his garrison of two hundred and fifty men - all humans - and put the issue to them, they all accepted the idea with alacrity. A celebration broke out, as men realized that there was more than their fragile store of food between them and disaster, and drink began appearing. After one taste of it, however, Sack  used his Helm of Teleportation to flash back to Reital, appropriate a keg of fine ale from the castle's startled steward, and return it to  Cyrn Weithaelin.

Hildraft and Surya had both worked in taverns in their youth, and within a few minutes had the barrel wedged upright and properly tapped. After that, the party livened up and a good time was had by all.

A thought struck Surya during the feast, and he asked the Commander why there were no lizardmen among his garrison. Erom looked at him and it was clear he was uncertain of his answer. It seemed that, around June, all the lizard troops in the garrison had quite suddenly decided to pack up and leave. Other than vague mutterings about "the call of the Lord" they had given no reason, but faced with fighting a quarter of his garrison or allowing them to leave, Erom had chosen to let them go.

Cyrn Sharresh, Southern Oret, 4th December 1601

Around a week later, the group cautiously approached the second tower on their schedule, Cyrn Sharresh. Erom had warned them that since the death of its' commander, Sharresh had degenerated into little more than a den of robbers, and that whatever they proposed to do there would not be as easy as it had been at Cyrn Weithaelin.

As a result they approached the place with much more caution than they had Cyrn Weithaelin.

Cyrn Sharresh was located on a rock spur, jutting out from a mountain. The main keep crested the spur, with fortifications attached to the sides, but the bulk of the place was within the rock of the spur. Down at ground level on the left was a strong towered gate, leading directly into the face  of the mountain - a feature which made Hildraft think of home.

Guards and watchers were clearly visible, but no signs of agriculture were to be seen; clearly, the garrison here had found other means of surviving abandonment.

Sack signed to the others that he wanted a few minutes to scout before they did anything. Leaving his horse with them, he slipped into the snow and seemed to disappear.

Working his way to the base of the spur, he started to climb, keeping his eyes on the various lookout posts and arrow slits dotted across its' expanse. These were well-placed, he realized, covering all angles of visiblility. For anyone else, attempting to climb the cliff unseen would have been madness; but Sack was a master of stealth aided by powerful concealment magic. Even his friends below, who knew what they were supposed to be looking for, couldn't see him.

After ten minutes' steady climbing, Sack reached the top of the central tower's wall. It looked rather odd, for there were no gates or barbicans; instead, a sloped ramp ran down into the interior of the hill. Slowly and cautiously, he worked his way down and into the caves below.

Outside, Surya and Hildraft decided that Sack had had the time he'd requested, and urged their mounts forward. Emerging from cover onto the snow-covered plain below the castle, they were screamingly conspicuous, and from the increased activity atop the walls they could tell they'd been spotted.

At about five hundred yards out, the heavy            doors banged open and a force of horsemen rode out. Fifty riders, most garbed in once-Dragonarmy armour, some not; armed with heavy spears and short bows. The travellers sat their horses calmly as the riders swirled around them to form a circle, with alternating spear-points and arrows pointed inwards. The rider immediately facing them, a blocky, scarred, disreputable-looking man, walked his horse a couple of paces forwards and rested a drawn sword across his saddlebow.

''Well, well, gentlemen,'' he said with mocking hearty cheerfulness, "today is not your lucky day. All your weapons and valuables into the dwarf's cloak, please, then off the horses and leave the way you came.''

Surya eyed him coldly. "We are here to speak with your commander - if you have one, not to be robbed, whoever you are.'' he said calmly.

The horseman laughed. "I am Grenthram, and as close to any comnander as you're going to get,'' he snapped. "Now start unloading.''

"We have an impasse," Surya observed, "we don't want to give you our valuables."

''Then we'll loot your bodies," chuckled Grenthram. Surya and Hildraft each briefly touched a small gemmed brooch securing their cloaks. A less overconfident foe would have noticed this and wondered, but Grenthram was complacent in his numbers and took no notice.

Surya tried once more. "Let us settle this one-to-one, you and me," he suggested. Grenthram laughed again. "I must have left my white cloak and shining armour behind today," he scoffed, "I think not.''

Without any warning at all, Surya spurred his horse forward, going from still to a full gallop in an instant. In a flurry of snow, the Red Dust stallion accelerated so fast that Surya was on Grenthram before anyone could react. The horseman brought his sword hastily up to the ready, but was no match for the Last Tellaran, and his hacked corpse crunched into the snow as Surya wheeled to face the next nearest man in the circle.

Hildraft gestured, and a vast wave of roaring flames engulfed the entire left-hand side of the bandits' circle. When it flickered out a few seconds later, nearly a score of Grenthram's men were gone, replaced by blackend, huddled shapes sizzling in the snow.

Hansen the Bard threw back his head, and began to sing one of his bardic songs of enhancement. Surya, only half listening, caught something about, "You're going home in a horse-drawn ambulance,'' and grinned as he plied his sword.

Grenthram's remaining            men were shaken but not daunted. The spearmen lowered their points and charged, while the bowmen drew and loosed.

Behind him, Hildraft heard the song end in a cry, and turned to see Hansen drop from his mount, mortally wounded. Muttering, the dwarf dropped off Nobbin and worked a Healing, rescuing the bard from death's door. Then he looked up to see three riders bearing down on him at a full gallop, spears readied.

Across the circle, Surya crashed through its' perimeter, scattering corpses in his wake, and swung to engage the archers beyond.

In the centre of the ring, Hildraft set his feet, gripped his Axe, and waited. A human in his position would have quailed, but Dwarves have had thousands of years' practice dealing with this situation.

Three terrible sweeping strokes practically dismembered the oncoming horses, catapulting their riders into the snow. Two lay still, dead or stunned, but the third wobbled to his feet, sword drawn, only to receive the final axe-stroke straight down on his head.

This was enough for the seventeen survivors, who wrenched their horses around and fled for the gates. Calmly, Surya unslung his bow. Eight never made it to the mountain; when those who did discovered that their comrades inside did not intend to let them back in, four flung down their weapons and surrendered, and five broke and fled for the forest.

Their feathered bodies made a neat  line from the gate to a little under half-way to the trees...