Post/Author/DateTime	Post
#1 bdpenney Mar 10, 2005 11:27:16	Well, its been awhile since I've posted any stories (one day I'll finish up my Alternative History of Turrosh Mak and the Pomarj), but here's an except from a campaign update I just sent out to my players. Timeline and Scene: The Greyhawk Wars have just ended and bitter winter grips the County of Flen in eastern Keoland. My campaign is centered around Godakin Keep and her defenders (personalities detailed below). The scene that follows the Godakin Keep NPC details occurs in late Fireseek, while the the adventuring group is away from the keep conducting their own business. Godakin Keep At one time Godakin Keep was a thriving waypoint for merchants going to and from Sterich. Precious metals, gems, food and other staples regularly passed through ‘en mass and the Keep grew into an affluent, if small, village as a result. Then, when all seemed to be going well and the keep’s residents began to entertain thoughts of expansion, the Giant Invasions began in the West and all trade with Sterich came to an abrupt halt. Almost at the same time nearly all citizens of Godakin Keep of any wealth to speak of decided to pack up and leave, migrating to the safer and more secure interior of Keoland (principally Niole Dra). Those few refugees who managed to escape slavery, death, or worse in Sterich also passed through, but did not stay long. They took what they had and fled for the interior of Keoland, leaving only stories of horror and atrocity behind for the town’s remaining inhabitants to ponder. Then, as the struggle for Sterich intensified and threatened to encroach upon the boundaries of Keoland, Godakin Keep was transformed from a trading village to an armed camp. Great walls were erected around the city and its central keep was fortified to withstand attacks from the giants and their thralls. A new ruler was installed in the town and it quickly became known as a bastion of Keolish strength and fortitude. Godakin Keep played a vital roll in keeping the rabble that overran Sterich from invading Keoland as well. Several stands were made along the Javan river by the Keep’s defenders, and while losses were heavy the invaders were not allowed across. In the end, when the war wore itself out, Godakin Keep had held its ground and protected its charge valiantly. Now, Godakin Keep continues its roll as protector of Keoland’s borders and is the southern anchor of Keoland’s border with rabble-infested Sterich. The keep’s army and militiamen have their hands full, however, as the giants are quickly running out of places to pillage in Sterich and hunger for more plunder. Skirmishes and stand-offs along the Javan River are now almost commonplace in the daily life of Godakin Keep, though the Keep’s wily leader (Lord Reginald Artanon) has been very effective in securing the Keep’s defense while also striking back at his country’s would-be invaders… Major Personalities Lord Reginald Artanon Appointed the title of Lord and rulership of Godakin Keep by King Kimbertos Skotti himself for his valor in defending Keoland from invasion during the Greyhawk wars. A seasoned former adventurer, Lord Artanon is a tall (6’4”) clean-shaven human in his mid-50’s with short, military cut steel gray hair, bright blue eyes, a powerful build, and a bevy of battle scars from a long career as an adventurer. He is known to be intelligent, subtle, fair, and kindly towards youthful adventurers. He is also merciless towards evil and harbors a deep, burning hatred toward the rabble that invaded Sterich (he lost his oldest son to them during the Greyhawk Wars). Not surprisingly, he reveres the god Trithereon and is a vocal supporter of Trevor Rennard. Lord Artanon is a charismatic man who leads by example and strongly believes in accomplishment through hard work. He takes his job of anchoring Keoland’s southern border with Sterich with very seriously and has a harsh tongue for any he sees lagging in their duties. He inspires his men through example and spends much of his time among them on the training grounds. Lord Artanon personally organizes the activities of his valued mercenary groups (which he affectionately calls his “Free Swords”) and has always kept their safety in mind when assigning them missions. Lady Kirina Artanon The wife of Lord Artanon, Kirina is a half-elven woman who appears to be in her early 30’s. She is tall (5’8”) with long brown hair, green eyes, and graceful elven features. She is known to be a ranger and priest of Ehlonna and is a symbol of hope and healing to many within the keep. She has a kindly, almost motherly attitude towards the men and women of the keep. Kirina supports her husband wholeheartedly, though they can often be seen picking at one another because their different faiths. When danger threatens, however, they work seamlessly together and Lady Kirina has proven to be very nearly as deadly in combat as her husband. Kirina maintains the village’s shrine to Ehlonna (whom most of the common people revere) and thus provides healing to many within the Keep. She also brews potions when she has time and sells them for a reasonable cost. She can often be found at her husband’s side on the training grounds, often teaching over-eager young men a humbling lesson. Lady Kirina’s friendly rivalry Trevor Rennard (head priest of Trithereon) is well known throughout the keep. Captain Darek Oslow: Lord Artanon’s second-hand man in the military, Darek Oslow (“That’s CAPTIAN OSLOW to you, boy!” is a human in his mid-30’s who should have been born a dwarf. Hard as iron (both in personality and physical form), Captain Oslow is a terror to anyone under his command who does not have perfect discipline. Stumpy in build (5’6), Captain Oslow has the general form of a tree stump with a bald head, no neck, and short (but thick) legs and arms. He is a spit-and-polish type of man who tolerates no nonsense whatsoever. His job is a serious one: protect his homeland, and he aims to see to it that nothing goes wrong on his watch. Captain Oslow is ruthless about discipline and his surprise drills are the bane of most new recruit’s existence. He trusts no one (except Lord and Lady Artanon) and is constantly grilling his troops about discipline and practicing “continuous vigilance.” He is a man with near-inhuman stamina and went for days without food or sleep while defending Keoland’s borders during the Greyhawk Wars. The soldiers he turns out are first-rate and have nearly unshakable morale (compared to Captain Oslow, most monsters seem like stroll through a field!). He has no problems cracking the heads of anyone who does not snap too on his orders. His men love him and hate him at the same time, which suites Captain Oslow just fine. Tarren Whitmore: Tarren is a short (5’2”) crotchety human in his late-50’s who has thinning white hair, light blue eyes, a pudgy build, and many facial scars from a past summoning gone all wrong. He is keen on wearing gray robes, a wide-brimmed hat, and tall black boots (“Keeps the sun, rain, and mud out!”). Tarren is the Keep’s senior mage and one of Lord Artanon’s old adventuring companions. He possesses a soft voice, acid tongue, and does not so much suffer fools gladly as he refuses to suffer fools at all. Tarren is Lord Artanon’s advisor on all things magical, the Keep’s resident alchemist, and the keep’s expert on magical monsters. He is seldom seen outside his tower (his two apprentices run most of his errands for him) and he does not liked being stopped or delayed when he’s going somewhere. Tarren occasionally sells scrolls and is known to occasionally buy magical objects from adventurers passing through (or from Lord Artanon’s “Free Swords”). Trevor Rennard: Trevor is Godakin Keep’s senior priest of Trithereon and he enjoys a very large and devout congregation indeed. Of average height (5’10”) and possessing a lean build, Trevor is a charismatic human with long fiery red hair, brown eyes, and a sense of revenge that runs deeper than an ocean trench. Once upon a time Trevor was a young priest of Pelor who lived a peaceful life with his wife and two daughters in Istivin, Sterich’s capitol. The coming of the Giant Invasions changed all of that as Istivin fell to an orgy of slaughter and plunder and he witnessed the **** and murder (by ogres and hobgoblins) of his wife and daughters while trapped beneath some of the timbers of his shattered home. Trevor was rescued by some priests of Trithereon the next day and was brought to Keoland with a handful of other refugees. Soon thereafter Trevor became one of Trithereon’s most ardent priests and fought beyond exhaustion defending Keoland’s borders and exacting revenge upon the creatures that took so much from him. Trevor is an extremely emotional man who delivers passionate sermons to his flock. In a place like Godakin Keep, where everyone has lost someone or seen the horrors of war, it is basically like preaching to the choir. Trevor hates giants and humanoids with a wild, unrelenting, seething, loathing that manages to infect people around him with a sense of vengeful indignation. He has had many converts to his faith and often accompanies soldiers who go out to deal with humanoid raids. The sermons he delivers to these men typically whip them into a frenzy of anger and hatred that even a raging hill giant will pause in fear… Trevor and Lady Kirina have a friendly rivalry due to their faiths. Trevor believes in the utter annihilation of all who have hurt him (all humanoids and giants, in his case) while Lady Kirina whishes for the rabble to be punished and driven out of Sterich and back to the mountains, but does not agree with (entirely) wholesale slaughter. The loss of her son during the wars, however, colors her attitude a bit towards this and thus she does not push her point too much with her husband or with Trevor. In any case, Trevor and Lord Artanon are good friends and work well together both in planning attacks and defenses and in their execution. Minor Personalities Roderick Ness Roderick is one of the few merchants that regularly visits Godakin Keep since the fall of Sterich. An old friend of Lord Artanon, Roderick makes it his responsibility to keep Godakin Keep well-supplied (for a price) and able to take care of itself. Roderick is a quick-witted human with a rat-like face, dark hair, a slight build, and intense blue eyes. Standing only 5’6”, Roderick nonetheless is a master of commanding attention and making himself seem bigger than most people around him. Roderick is a man of surprising resources; he often has elite (even magical) items for sale, which the inhabitants of the Keep (particularly Freeswords) find invaluable in their struggle against the rabble of Sterich. Roderick, however, knows very well how much his wares are worth, particularly since he has the supply and there is high demand. Due to this Roderick has the reputation of being a man with whom you count your fingers after you shake his hand… “Olde” Arnet Ironhammer The oldest resident of Godakin Keep by far (nobody is exactly sure how old Arnet is), Arnet Ironhammer an aged, one-eyed (lost one to a forge accident) dwarf with deeply calloused hands, long gray hair, and a beard to match. He’s the city’s master smith and has the reputation of being one of the finest metalworkers in all of Keoland. He’s also one of the grumpiest, crabbiest beings in all of Greyhawk and is less than a pleasure to deal with under all circumstances. Arnet, however, does his job well and takes his duty as the Keep’s master smith seriously. He has two apprentices (that people who pass by can hear him constantly barking at) to whom he is teaching his craft and is a good friend of Captain Oslow (“No surprise there!” most young recruits say.). Arnet does excellent work and has a working relationship with Tarren Whitmore, who has been known to provide Arnet with Alchemical Silver and other exotic substances to work with in his forging of weapons. His work does not come cheap, but the quality of his craft has never been questioned. Arnet has a softer side, however, which he rarely allows to come out. The past holiday season, for example, he created a wondrous mechanical toy for each and every child within the keep. Unfortunately for Arnet, this made him the object of thanks and sloppy hugs and kisses from the children for months afterward. Arnet also has a soft spot for the Iron Riders, and he shows this by only charging them full price for his wares rather than his usual price. Freesword Groups: Lord Artanon employs three freesword groups, which he uses as elite strike teams and for missions that require more wit, precision, or firepower than normal military ranks can provide. As a former adventurer himself, he fully realizes the value and power of adventurers and he has no problems putting them to use for Godakin Keep. The Fire Seekers The Fire Seekers are one of two (soon to be three) groups of Freeswords employed by Lord Artanon. The Fire Seekers consist of five members and are the most senior of the Freesword groups in Godakin Keep. They are Lord Artanon’s heavy hitters and are given the most dangerous assignments. To date they have been successful in all ventures, though they have lost two of their original members in the process. They typically keep to themselves in their tower when not out on assignment, though if they do go out in public it is to see Lord Artanon, Roderick Ness or have a drink at the Elegant Eagle. The Fire Seekers members include: ·Ari Fireweaver Elven Sorcerer and pyromaniac. A tall (5’8”) high elf with long white hair and dazzling blue eyes. Dresses in light blue robes with silver trim. Co-leads the Fire Seekers with his twin brother, Gilliam. Ari has a placid personality until he gets in a fight, then he goes wild and attempts to fry all enemies to a crisp. Ari is arrogant and powerful and expects people to respect his ability from the get-go. ·Gilliam Fireweaver Also an elven sorcerer and pyromaniac. Identical to his brother in every way except that he wears red robes with gold trim. More flamboyant than Ari, Gilliam is more level-headed in combat, often taking pains to ensure Ari is not putting himself at risk. Gilliam also enjoys frying opponents to a crisp. Gilliam is as arrogant as his brother, though he prefers people to respect and admire him for his good looks and panache. Needles to say, both brothers get on the nerves of the locals. ·“Howling” Ragnar An enormous (7’) half-orc barbarian who serves as the brute muscle for the Fire Seekers. Ragnar finishes off what Ari and Gilliam soften up. Wields an orc double axe and wears dragonhide studded leather armor. Crude, loud, offensive, but very effective. Ragnar serves as the Fire Seeker’s mascot amongst the common soldiery, who associate better with chopping a foe into pieces rather than blasting them with spells. ·Natalia “Nightspell” A 5’3” Gray elven bard with pale skin, black hair, purple eyes, and a voice that could soothe a savage orgy. Natalia does the “face” work for the Fire Seekers when it is obvious that brute force or firepower will fail. Beautiful and sophisticated, her specialty is providing her companions with combat buffs with her spells and music. Every male soldier in Godakin keep believes they’re in love with Natalia and this suits her just fine, as she loves flattery and pampering. ·Evan Lightfoot A male halfling and unabashed rogue who is responsible for most of the Fire Seeker’s scouting and “silent” work. Looks the part of a typical halfling (3’ tall, dark brown hair and eyes, whisper thin build) but is amazingly agile, even for one of his race. Is deadly if he takes someone by surprise with his bow or daggers and usually isn’t seen when he doesn’t want to be. Most inhabitants of the Keep put their hands to their money pouches by reflex when Evan approaches… The Iron Riders Most dwarves may claim they hate riding, but this group stands out in that they make riding war ponies their trademark. The Iron Riders is a group of six dwarves (all brothers from the same clan) who were forced to flee from Sterich during the war. Recognizing them for the asset they were, Lord Artanon offered to hire their services and give them ample opportunities to exact revenge upon the humanoids who drove them from their home. The Iron Riders all wear dwarven full plate armor when they go into the field and are literally a wall of iron death when they charge with their heavy lances. They have yet to loose any members during an assignment (they’ve come close, however) and have been successful each mission given them. Because of who they are (money-conscious dwarves), they’ve pooled their money and purchased one of the town’s inns, quickly re-naming it the Shattered Stone and transforming it into a proper “Dwarven Pub.” Thus, when not out on orders from Lord Artanon most of their members can be found here. One peculiar aspect of these dwarves is that they’ve all taken the last name “Iron Rider.” This is because of the deep shame they feel having been driven from their ancestral home. They will only re-take their proper clan name when they re-take their homeland. The members of the Iron Riders are: ·Grim The eldest of all the dwarves and the leader of the Iron Riders. Brown haired and eyed, Grim is a fearsome fighter and brilliant technician. Grim plans all the Iron Rider’s missions down to the last detail. He is protective of his brothers and watches over them at all times while in the field. He has the usual dwarven gruffness, but is quite likeable when someone proves to be trustworthy. His specialty weapon is the dwarven war Axe. ·Thranel Second oldest of the dwarves, Thranel has black hair and a braided beard. He has icy blue eyes and rarely speaks or takes off his dwarven full plate armor. Thranel witnessed his father’s death at the hands of a fire giant during the wars and this image haunts him to this day. He will not retreat when battling giants, no matter the odds. Thranel is an efficient fighter and does not waste energy or opportunities in combat. His favored weapon is the dwarven urgosh. ·Regmond The third oldest and the black sheep of the family, Regmond has flaming red hair and amber eyes and stands a full 5’ tall (6” taller than Grim, the tallest other dwarf). Regmond is amazingly strong, emotional, and outspoken. Obviously a barbarian, Regmond is difficult to control and is prone to go into instant rages at the sight of giants or humanoids. He is a source of constant worry for Grim. Regmond’s capacity to drink is becoming a local legend. Regmond’s favored weapon is the great axe. ·Brevawld The fourth eldest member of the family, Brevawld is an average-sized dwarf with brown hair and eyes. What sets him apart is that he is a priest of Moradin and serves as the group’s primary source of healing and magical might. Brevawld looks up to his brother Grim nearly as much as he does his god (Grim saved him from death by killing a hill giant single handed, though he nearly perished in the deed) and works tirelessly to gain his approval. Rather than using a heavy lance wile mounted Brevawld casts spells to augment his brothers. His favored weapon (and holy symbol) is an alchemical-silvered war hammer. · Horace The fifth eldest member of the family, Horace looks much like Brevawld and is average in most respects. Unfortunately for Grim, Horace suffers from the classic “middle child” syndrome and is constantly trying to out-do his older and more experienced brothers in combat. This has nearly lead to Horace’s death several times and Grim and Brevawld are at their wit’s end. Worse, Horace sees his younger brother Willik as a “chosen one” and is consumed with jealousy because of the blessings and attention he’s received. Horace is brave to a fault in battle, often taking un-necessary risks to prove himself in the eyes of the rest of the family. Sadly, he does not understand his older brothers’ frustration. Horace typically uses a poleaxe or long sword in combat. ·Willik, the youngest brother and stands out from the other brothers the way a star stands out against the curtain of night. Blond-haired, blue eyed, and very fair of face and form, Willik appears to have been touched by something heavenly. Willik is a paladin of Moradin and is deeply committed to serving his god and liberating his homeland. Willik, however, is very young for a dwarf (age 36) and thus lacks the maturity of a typical dwarven paladin. This does not make him a bad person so much as it makes him innocent and naïve, and thus prone to making terrible mistakes. Brevawld looks after Willik personally so as to help his brother to avoid temptation. Willik’s becoming a paladin shocked all of his brothers, though most of them now see it as a sign of Moradin’ favor and approval. Willik’s favored weapons are the war hammer and dwarven war axe. The Strong Blades These are the adventurers in my campaign. They began their careers at 1st are hard at work building their power while accomplishing the myriad tasks Lord Artanon sets for them. Most of them are refugees from Sterich and Geoff, giving them extra incentive to aid Lord Artanon in his efforts to safeguard Flen from attacks while also looking for opportunities to strike back (and eventually re-take) Sterich. I'm not going to bother with detials here, as these characters don't play a roll in this particular write-up. Next post (probably two posts) will be the write-up, entitled Fire and Ice.
#2 bdpenney Mar 10, 2005 11:28:34	Campaign Update: Fire and Ice A frigid evening wind howled over the frosted battlements and icy spires of Godakin Keep. Little movement could be seen anywhere in the complex, with only the unluckiest of guards occasionally walking the walls and streets for guard duty. Little light could be seen coming from any building, for all dwellings had shuttered their windows against the cold. It was the coldest night of the winter; so frigid that nearby trees could be heard exploding from the cold, the crackling bursts echoing for all to hear. It was an evening unfit for neither man nor beast, with even the stray dogs seeming to have found a haven against the cold. Boom! Boom! Boom! “Open in the name of Trithereon!” Shouted the red haired man as he pounded upon the great ironbound oaken doors of Lord Artanon’s Keep. “Reginald, we must do something!” Inside the keep Lord Artanon looked up from his chair near the fireplace and sighed. Neither snow, ice, or a flight of dragons could keep Trevor Rennard away when something was bothering him. “Better let him in.” Said Lady Kirina. “He’ll rile the while village if he keeps shouting like that.” A servant nodded and went to find the door warden. A few minutes later Trevor Rennard came stomping into Lord Artanon’s personal apartments. Icicles still clung to his moustache and from his long hair. He was lightly dressed (not even a coat!) and obviously very cold, though from his expression he was heedless of the elements or their effects. “Reginald, we have to do something!” Trevor began, not even giving Lord Artanon the chance to rise from his chair to greet him. “I have just received intelligence via a servant of Trithereon! They’re eating them Reginald, almost within sight of Godakin Keep’s walls!” Trevor was shivering, though from anger or cold neither Lord Artanon nor Lady Kirina could tell. “Who’s being eaten?” Lord Artanon said, rising to stand by his friend. “Come nearer the fire Trevor. Did you run right out of the temple to come tell me this?” Lady Kirina also rose and went to fetch Trevor a thick woolen blanket. It was a long run from the Temple of Trithereon to the keep’s doors and Trevor looked to have made it wearing only his breeches, boots, and shirt. “Never mind me!” Yelled Trevor, resisting Lord Artanon, but not so much as Lord Artanon couldn’t maneuver him near the fire. “Something terrible is happening at Roballa!” Trevor grasped the blanked Lady Kirina placed over his shoulders and held it close. Now that he’d arrived in Lord Artanon’s presence, he was definitely feeling the cold. “The giants and their humanoid rabble have run out of food and are killing and eating their captives! I received vision from Trithereon revealing this to me.” Trevor quieted abruptly, his eyes filled with horror. “It was a long vision, I saw entire families slaughtered for their gullets!” Lord Artanon and Lady Kirina looked at one another sharply at this. The winter had been harsh on everyone and everything in the area, but for giants to be slaughtering their slaves meant that things had come to a terrible pass. “You’re sure?” Lady Kirina ventured, looking at the wide-eyed priest. “Yes!” Trevor gasped. “After receiving the vision I communed with Trithereon, and that communion revealed it to not only be truth, but only the beginning. They’ve several hundred captive in Roballa, and they’ll all be dead in a couple of days. All of them. Dead. Eaten.” Trevor was shaking harder than ever, a strange light in his eyes. “Reginald, it has to be stopped! You know what they did to my wife and child! I come to you to say that I’ll go alone if I have to, for I will go mad if this is allowed to continue!” Tears were coming from Rennard’s eyes now, as if he were re-living something too horrible to stand. Lord and Lady Artanon exchanged gazes again, both nodding at the same time. Something had to be done. “Williams!” Yelled Lord Artanon, calling for his steward. “Sent a runner to rouse Captian Oslow, and get me the Fireseekers!” He looked to Rennard, who stood there staring, caught in a personal hell of memory. “Son of a ***** must pay.” He said under his breath. * * * “All the little boys and girls too!” Howled Ragnar, his hands shaking and tears of rage forming in his eyes. The half-orc was a local hero to the children of Godakin Keep and spent as much time as possible with them when time and weather provided. “AAAARRRGGGGHHHH!!!” Ragnar brought smashed his fist into Lord Artanon’s oak planning table. The wood splintered. “Ragnar kill them! Horrible giants!” Steam began to rise from the half-orcs flesh, which was turning a reddish color. The fires within were burning high. “They no more hurt the little ones!” Ari and Gilliam, half-elven twin brothers and leaders of the Fireseekers exchanged meaningful glances, looked to Lord Artanon and nodded. “We in for this one.” Said Ari. The rest of the Fireseekers; Evan the halfling and Natalia the gray elf both nodded as well. “If we do this, we do this quick.” “No mercy.” Said Gilliam. “Those bastards have crossed the final line with us. Anything we don’t fry goes to Ragnar.” Everyone looked to the half-orc, who was stomping all over the room and shouting ‘Me kill them!’ between grunts and roars. “Agreed.” Said Lord Artanon, his voice deep and commanding. Godakin Keep’s lord then looked from eye to eye, and all gave their ascent to this. Not even Lady Kirina could find it within herself to put the brakes on what looked to be a mission of extermination. “We leave in an hour. Tarren Whitmore will be transporting all of us to the outskirts of what’s left of Roballa. Our team will consist of Myself, Captain Oslow, Trevor Rennard and his two underpriests, and the Fireseekers.” There was a pause as everyone (except Howling Ragnar, who was working himself into a greater fury) looked to Lady Kirina. She did not appear pleased at this announcement. “It is for the best, Kirina.” Lord Artanon said. “Someone has to stay here and make sure the keep is safe. You and Tarren will do us greater service making sure we have a place to come back to rather than getting your hands dirty.” It sounded good, it really did, but everyone could tell that Lady Kirina didn’t buy it for a moment. “I-“ she began, but saw that stubborn look on her husband’s face. “Very well, my Lord.” She said. “We’ll discuss this further upon your return.” Even Trevor, nearly in a frenzy of vengeance, flinched at this. All Lord Artanon could do was smile. He was in trouble no matter what he did, but at least this way he knew his wife was safe “We go in and we hit them hard and fast. I want the Ari and Gilliam in the air doing what you two do best.” This coaxed a pair of wicked smiles form the twin brothers. “I’ll be on the ground with Ragnar, Trevor, and Darek.” Darek Oslow almost bristled at the use of his first name. It wasn’t something that someone known as ‘Captain’ normally heard. “Before we get going I want Natalia to work her magic over us to ensure we fight at our best.” He then looked down at Evan, a halfling little more than half Artanon’s height. “You I want turned invisible and on the ground with us, because you are going to be our ace in the hole.” The group assented as one, then got down to really planning… * * * Pre-dawn darkness lay over the crumbled walls and broken cobbles the port formerly known as Roballa. Once a thriving outpost of trade along the Javan River, the Greyhawk Wars had reduced it to a broken morass of stone and half-burned timber. The giants had done a very thorough job breaking the town’s defenses before moving on the slaughter at the Marich Ford. Despite the setback, however, Roballa remained an important strategic point. It was the gateway into southeastern Sterich. Any army who wished to invade needed to use the Marich ford, which made Roballa a vital point for any occupying force to control. The wind blew at the freshly fallen snow, drifting it and reshaping the landscape around Roballa anew. Everything was quiet as the first hint of dawn touched the eastern skyline, painting the horizon a ruddy crimson and driving back the evening’s darkness. Silently, ten figures winked into existence between the fallen walls of two buildings. The ten figures became nine as the shortest of them vanished into thin air. The remaining figured hunched down behind the fallen wall. “Evan will find out where those thugs hide during the day, quick as quick.” Said Ari. The half-elf was glowing with the power of at least a half-dozen spells he and the priests had cast upon himself. “He’ll find our targets, then find the captives. We’ll do our best to keep from frying anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Lord Artanon nodded and said a brief prayer of thanks to Trithereon. All of their number were protected from cold and enjoying the benefits of several other spells of protection and defense. “I hope you’re right about his being quick, these spells won’t last forever and I want to hit these bastards while we’re at our strongest.” Lord Artanon flexed his muscles, magically enhanced by magic and noticed how unusual his half plate armor felt on his body. It’d been a long time since he’d been in combat, and he hoped his edge had not been dulled by the responsibilities of ruling and organizing. “He’ll be quick.” Said Gilliam. “Those boots he wears makes him as fast as Ragnar on foot.” He looked at Godakin Keep’s Lord with a sidelong glance, noting how uncomfortable he looked in armor. “You just promise us you won’t do anything too stupid today. We don’t need to remind you that giants are tough customers, but that’ll be nothing to what Lady Kirina’ll do to us if anything happens to you.” “I’ll be watching over him.” Said Natalia in her velvet-smooth voice. For a bard she spoke little, but when she did the words always meant something important. “My music and spells will keep our boys fit and strong throughout the battle.” She smiled and reached over to Lord Artanon, patting him on the face. “Lady Kirina and I had a little talk before we left. So don’t you do anything you don’t want her to hear about, alright my Lord?” Lord Artanon’s face reddened and he was about to reply when a small voice whispered in his ear. “Can I keep one of these potions you got here, milord?” Lord Artanon looked down to his pouch to find it open and empty. Impatiently he held out his hand and the three vials appeared in his palm. “Sorry milord.” Said Evan Lightfoot, who elected to remain invisible. “Just wanted to see if you were on your guard.” Trevor, who looked even more impatient than Ragnar (if that’s possible) looked around the group in exasperation. “I thought we were in a hurry! Its got to be nearly breakfast time for those scum, could we please get on with this?” Lord Artanon held up a hand for silence, then looked to where the Evan’s voice had come from. “Behind you now, milord.” “Dammit Evan, give us your report!” Snapped Artanon. “There are three camps we need to worry about.” Evan began. A short burnt stick rose from the ground and began drawing in the snow. “This is an outline of the town. Here,” He drew a little mark. “is where they’re keeping the captives. Its big town hall-type building that survived the siege mostly intact.” He then drew an ‘x’ nearby to the first mark “Here is where the giants congregate. I guess they want to keep their new food source close by.” He then drew a final ‘x’, nearly on the opposite side of town, and directly in their path toward the captives. “This is a camp where you get a mix a ogres, hobgoblins, a couple of ettins, and some of the smaller hill giants.” The stick dropped to the ground. “That’s my report.” Lord Artanon, Trevor Rennard, and Captain Oslow hunched down around the crude map. “Hows’s the terrain between there and here?” Asked Captian Oslow. “Rough, broken, and messy.” Said the still invisible halfling. “Any sentries?” Asked Trevor. “None that I saw, and you’d have to be one hell of a sneaky snake to escape my notice.” Replied Evan. “We’ll hit the giants first.” Said Lord Artanon. “We can go around the weaker camp, no problems there, but we need to make sure we kill as many giants as possible before their weaker forces can come to their aid.” He looked from one group member to the other. “Weak creatures in great numbers can still overwhelm us, so we have to avoid that at all costs. Slaughter enough giants and they’ll quickly find they have business elsewhere.” Trevor Rennard nodded at this. “We can do a bit more than that as well. Our god is not only the Lord or Vengeance, and The Hunter, but he’s also known as the Summoner.” Grasping his holy symbol, Trevor began to pray to his deity. “O’ Vengeful one, we mortals beg you aid us in our endeavors. Grant us the power to strike down with furious anger and righteous vengeance those who would poison and destroy our brothers! For we know that you are our Lord and the protector of lost children! Send us your warden, grant us your favor, aid us in our need!” The air next to Trevor became hazy for a moment, then thickened into the vague form of a dog. Then, all at once, the form snapped into perfect focus and standing before the group was enormous jet-black bullmastiffs hound the size of a Clydesdle horse. The hound’s eyes glowed with an amber hue and his teeth were freakishly long and looked to be made of steel. The two underpriests cast their spells once again, summoning a pair of celestial lions to compliment the gathered beasts. “Behold! An aspect of Nemound the Hound, servant of The Summoner!” The two other priests cast spells of their own, one summoning a large brown bear and the other summoning a dire wolf. Trevor repeated his spell again, but this time brought an enormous golden falcon into existence. The hawk’s eyes glittered like gold and his talons were made of silver. “And Harrus the Falcon, hunter of the skies and brother to Nemound will also aid us!” The two underpriests cast their spells once again, summoning a pair of celestial lions to compliment the gathered beasts. Trevor Rennard pointed toward the hobgoblin camp and looked to the summoned creatures. Each bore the symbol of Trithereon; the rune of pursuit, on its forehead. “Trithereon favors us! The summoning that brought these beasts will last until they are killed or the sun sets.” He looked to Lord Artanon. “Milord?” Lord Artanon looked to his troops. “Tell your beasts to give us a two minutes, then they are to create as much havoc in the hobgoblin camp as possible. I want those creatures scared out of their minds.” He then pointed to Ari. “You two can fly on you carpet, but the rest of us are on the ground. Is there anything you can do to help us move faster?” Ari grinned. “I brought a few scrolls that will do just the trick.” Lord Artanon smiled grimly. “Then use it. We’re moving out.” * * * The sun was half way up the horizon when Vulorg crawled out from under his sleeping furs to go relieve his aching bladed. It had been a cold night, but the eating had been good. The hill giant grinned at the memory of fresh meat and bones to crunch. The slaves were now food, and there would be no more going hungry for the giants. He moved amongst the sleeping bodies of his fellows, stepping on an occasional hand, foot, head, or whatever. Vulorg didn’t care; he was the chief’s son and could do as he pleased. The giants had slept around the great campfire they’d let the previous evening to celebrate the chief’s decision to eat the captives. The tribe was a large one, and there were snoring bodies all around. Vulorg finally got to the edge of where his fellows lay and picked his spot; the shattered bell tower of a ruined temple. The fragmented image of a shining sun could just be made out on the tower’s side. “Vulorg paint ugly temple!” The hulking brute said as he hiked up his fur wrappings and began to **** on the temple ruins. Steaming liquid splashed all over the side and into the ruins of the bell tower, eliciting a brief scream from within. A moment later a young girl, skin almost blue from the cold and now wet from the giant’s filth, came sprinting out from one of the great cracks in the structure. She ran heedlessly, though away from the giant’s camp and from Vulorg. Vulorg smiled to himself and finished defiling the ruined temple. He dropped his furs back over his unmentionables and grinned to himself. “Mmmmm, Vulorg find breakfast!” And took up pursuit of the girl. * * * “Ragnar like this spell!” The half-orc exclaimed as he expanded and grew to nearly the dimensions of a hill giant. “Keep your head down!” Oslow whispered harshly as Ragnar’s head and shoulders threatened to rise over the wall they were crouched behind. He looked to the priest of Trithereon who had just administered the spell to the half-orc. “Are you guys going to have any spells left for healing? You’ve enlarged just about everyone in the group!” This was true, for Lord Artanon, Captian Oslow, Howling Ragnar, and Evan Lightfoot had all been enlarged for the coming battle. “I don’t like being this big.” Pouted Evan, now under the effects of a greater invisibility spell from Natalia Nightsong. “Makes me feel all clumsy.” Natalia snorted at the halfling’s sulking tone. “And what help would you be to us, if you were unable to hit anything other than their knees? You’ll be worse than devastating while this spell lasts. Just make-“ Natalia was interrupted by a distant screaming, a scream that was getting closer. “What the-“ Lord Artanon began to say when Ragnar, who had been peeking over the wall, let forth a bellow that made his ears ring and charged over the wall. “Well, that about tears it!” Yelled Oslow, looking over the wall after Ragnar. “There’s a hill giant chasing a young girl and now Ragnar’s gonna rouse the whole damn tribe!” Lord Artanon was shaking his head. “We’re not ready!” Natalia shrugged her shoulders and picked up her guitar. “Better be ready enough then, this is where it gets messy!” She looked to Ari and Gilliam. “You two, up on the carpet. Evan, back up Ragnar.” The silence that followed said enough, Evan was already doing just that. “You priests, stay at our backs and provide healing. Trevor, do you need to be enlarged?” Trevor shook his head. “I’ve got my own spell for that. Trithereon will give me righteous might if I call upon it, and I’m calling now.” He murmured a short prayer to Trithereon and instantly grew to twice his size and mass. “Play your music bard, we’re going to need all the inspiration we can get” Lord Artanon and Captain Oslow drew their swords and readied their shields, each used to the habits and movements of the other. “Ok all, let’s make these bastards pay!” Lord Artanon yelled, the warm thrill of impending combat wash over him. With that the group moved as one, the enlarged members climbing over the wall and the rest gong around. Natalia Nightsong sprinkled some magical powder over herself and disappeared. A moment afterward her allies heard her playing and felt the power of her music, making them stronger and more confident than they could ever remember. --- Insert Rammstein theme music here --- * * * Howling Ragnar hit the ground running, the flames of his rage burning hot and fierce within him as he moved to intercept the hill giant before it caught the girl. “Hey, you!” Roared the half-orc, not breaking stride. “Time you pick on someone your own size!” Roared the enraged barbarian, steam wafting from his skin and tongues of flame flickering from his mouth and nostrils with each breath. The hill giant looked up to Ragnar and grunted. The young girl had fallen and lay directly before the giant, cowering. With a foul grin the monstrosity lifted one leg high over the girl and laughed at the half-orc. Howling Ragnar charged. * * * “That’s the fastest thing I ever saw!” Gasped Lord Artanon as he and Captain Oslow ran shoulder to shoulder with one another, both trying to catch up to the raging barbarian. “And the messiest!” Replied Owlos. “By Trithereon he hit that giant hard!” ‘Hit’ didn’t begin to cover it. Under the effects of his rage and one of Gilliam’s haste spells, Howling Ragnar covered the hundred or so feet between himself and the hill giant in a blink of an eye. In that blink he rushed up toward the giant, leapt high into the air, and came down upon him with a great two-handed blow from his greataxe. There was an explosion of blood, gore, and various unmentionable parts (which brought more screaming, then some gurgling from that young girl) and the brute lay dead in a terrible charred mess. When Ragnar struck there was a flash of flame that managed to cook half the meat on the dead hill giant, and the stench of it filled the area. Ragnar pulled at the gore lying at his feet and eventually found the young girl, even more terrified that ever. “Run and hide, we kill!” With that he stood up and waited for his companions. The girl ran and hid within the ruins of an old warehouse and watched as the group formed up, then moved purposefully forward, toward the giant camp. * * * BOOM!!!!!! BOOM!!!!!! “Nice one Ari!” “Nice one yourself, Gil. Great stroke, getting the fireball to go off in that one’s mouth!” Ari and Gilliam were having fun. From well out of reasonable range (900 or so feet) above the giant camp they rained fireball after fireball down upon the scattering giants. “They all look like ants from up here!” Yelled Ari. A boulder, thrown by one of the more desperate giants, flew harmlessly past the flying carpet. “Serves ‘em right!” Said Gilliam as he sent another fireball spell below. It exploded amongst a group of hill giants, thinking to use an old building for cover. “Almost doesn’t seem fair, you know?” Said Ari, sending another fireball down amongst the survivors of Gilliam’s blast. One thundering boom later there were even fewer survivors. “How may you reckon there are?” Asked Gilliam. Yet another fireball. “Thirty, maybe fifty. I’m not so keen on addition.” Ari got a mean look in his eyes, concentrated a bit longer, and let loose a fireball that blossomed half again as side as his normal ones. “I’ve always liked subtraction a lot more!”
#3 bdpenney Mar 10, 2005 11:29:31	When Lord Artanon’s group got to the giant’s camp they found utter chaos. Ari and Gilliam were high above and had rained no fewer than a dozen fireballs into the area. Blackened and burning bodies lay everywhere and the screams of the dying could be heard throughout. There were still enemies, though, for hill giants were extremely tough, sorcery or no sorcery. “How may left do you think?” Asked Lord Artanon as he parried another blow from the half-burned giant he faced. He was back-to-back with Captain Oslow, who was facing a giant who would merit an entire burn ward. “Dunno Sir, fifteen, maybe twenty. Most of ‘em wounded.” He stepped forward and buried his longsword to the hilt into the chest of his foe. The giant shook a moment, the went limp. “Make that one less!” Oslow then turned just in time to see the giant make a desperate swing at Lord Artanon with his greatclub. Lord Artanon’s sword caught the brute in the side of the neck as he lunged forward, but not before the club got through, catching Lord Artanon full in the chest. Lord Artanon went down to one knee, the wind knocked out of him. He spit up some blood and felt some ribs moving around under his badly dented armor. “Trevor!” Shrieked Oslow. “Trevor! Artanon’s hit and down!” Oslow’s yell was punctuated by twin fireballs that exploded nearby, killing or scattering any hill giants that might look to take advantage of the situation. Oslow sent a quick prayer of thanks to Trithereon that Ari and Gilliam were watching out for them. Lord Artanon spit up more blood and groaned. He’d taken several hits since the carnage began, and this one seemed to be his limit. Trevor Rennard was busy fighting a stone giant, an unwelcome sight amongst the weaker and dumber hill giants of the tribe. The brute was enormous, almost half again as tall as Trevor in his enlarged state. The brute was also more patient than his fellows, refusing to fall victim to the usual maneuvers. “C’mon you monster!” Shouted Trevor, growing impatient with the defensive battle the giant was fighting against him. Then he heard Oslow’s call. “I haven’t time for this your worthless gods-damned TRITHEREON SMITE YOU!” A 20-foot radius around Trevor was instantly lit up by a blast of holy light. All the giants in the area howled in agony, white searing flame bursting from their eyes while holy energy hammered their bodies. Several hill giants in the area dropped, the rest of them (and the stone giant) flailed around blindly with their weapons, their sight taken from them by the power of Trithereon. Trevor watched his opponent a moment longer, then used his shield to push his club up and away. Once again calling upon Trithereon to give him strength, he swung his long sword in an upward arc. There was a brief ring of metal on stone, but the sword’s cut was true. The stone giant’s head fell away from its body, which toppled backward onto one of the blinded hill giants, toppling it to the ground. Trevor was away at once, running as fast as he could to get to his Lord’s side. Oslow was there as were his two junior priests, though they were already out of spells and were useful for little more than guarding Godakin Keep’s lord. “Let me see him!” Shouted Rennard. Lord Artanon was pale and had a line of blood running from his lower lip to the ground. His armor had half a dozen dents in it, with the largest right in the center of his chest. “Dammit Oslow, haven’t you been keeping track of him?” Demanded Rennard. “Wounds like this would damn-near drop Ragnar! Now, hold him for me!” Trevor pulled off Lord Artanon’s helmat and placed his hands against the flesh of his lord’s face. He whispered a desperate prayer to Trithereon and felt holy energy flow through him and into his liege. Lord Artanon blinked his eyes open and color returned to his face. “Trevor, I got hit pretty bad-“ “I know, this has been one hell of a battle. Damn!” Trevor sword as he began to shrink back to his normal size. Artanon and Oslow began to do likewise. In the distance the could hear Ragnar howling in frustration as his size and reach began to shrink as well. The giants, the last ten or so of them alive, realized that their foes power was lessening and began to close around the group in a tight circle. They knew it was safer closer to their foes, for the ones above would not fireball them they were too close. “Why don’t they come in closer?” Asked Oslow. “What’re they waiting for? Those bas-oof!” Captain Oslow’s question was answered as he caught a giant-hurled boulder full in the side. Oslow stood his ground, but shakily and with labored breath. The group raised shields and formed a tight defensive circle. The giants began to pelt them with boulders and chunks of masonry from the ruined buildings. “Ragnar!” Yelled Lord Artanon. “We need you!” * * * Ragnar was busy and very, very angry. Three giants were facing him. One was an enormous brute that wore a chain shirt and wielded a wicked morning star. He had ‘Chieftain’ written all over him and had been the only giant who had been inside a shelter when the fireball attacks began. The other two giants were thuggish brutes who had the look of loyal bodyguards. There had been four loyal bodyguards to start with, and there’d probably be zero had that enlargement spell not worn off. Now the situation had gotten ugly for Ragnar, as the giants had scored a few hits on the firsestorm berserker While remaining far enough out of reach to keep the half-orc off balance. “Gweer nag hosha nruna!” Laughed the chieftain as he looked over at how his other subjects were faring. They had managed to encircle the humans and were now pelting them with stones. Even as he watched one of them took devastating hit and went down in a heap. “Ha ha ha!” Ragnar saw it happen too, though he couldn’t tell who went down. “If I die, you die!” Howled the berserker. He feinted toward the chief, who stepped back and raised his morning star, and charged right at one of his bodyguards. The creature reacted swiftly, landing a clanking blow on Ragnar’s shoulder. Ragnar grunted off the blow and completed his charge, landing a savage blow into the giant’s midsection. The giant stumbled back a step, but Ragnar came on, using his momentum to his advantage. Ragnar swung desperately at his foe, his muscles aching from overuse. The axe connected, finishing the cut his first attack began. With a wet ‘thumb’ the giant’s upper torso separated from its bottom and sploshed to the ground. That attack cost Ragnar dear. The chieftain stood his ground, not wanting to get near the dangerous half-orc, but his remaining bodyguard had no such hesitation. The giant launched a charge of his own, swinging his great club two-handed over his head in a long arc. The attack caught Ragnar full across the back. Ragnar howled in pain, but to the amazement of his attacker, wouldn’t go down. The half-orc was much the worse for wear, however, and Ragnar could feel the fires of his rage slipping away. The great thug of a bodyguard grinned in victory before his chieftain as he raised his club again, looking for the killing blow. The chieftain was dividing his attention between his bodyguard the other members of his tribe, who had felled another of the puny humans. They were toying with them now, laughing at them as they threw their boulders into the defender’s midst. Grinning to himself, he hefted his morningstar and began to move toward the half-orc. It and his bodyguard were circling one another, looking for an opening. Finishing this one was going to be easy… * * * There was a thunderous crash an the splintering of stone to Lord Artanon’s left, and he saw Trevor Rennard collapse to the ground, blood running from his nose and ears. “Dammit!” Artannon looked from his left to his right. Of the ten giants who had been attacking them, seven still lived thanks to the lightning bolts and magic missiles of Ari and Gilliam. It wasn’t enough, however, and the tiny band making a last stand had been worn down little by little. Now only he and Oslow stood, and both were on unsteady feet. “Well my lord.” Began Oslow. “Its been an honor serving with ye. We did do some good here, by Trithereon. It’ll be my honor to follow you in the next world as well.” Oslow laughed and coughed out some blood. “’C’mon ye scum! Let us go down fighting and not like some target at an amusement show!” Another boulder slammed into Oslow’s shield. Laughter from the assembled giants followed as they pointed and laughed at two remaining companions. Another lightning bolt crackled down, hitting another hill giant who shrieked and launched his boulder high into the air, narrowly missing the flying carpet of Aria and Gilliam. Lord Artanon was trying desperately to think. Ari and Gilliam couldn’t have many spells left, so there was little they could do. They’d done a lot, what with the burned bodies littering the area, but that wasn’t going to get the people on the ground out of this alive. “Just keep your shield up Oslow, we’ll get through this yet! Just wait for an opening, then we take it!” The giants were beginning to look bored with their game and were fingering their weapons. The spells had stopped raining down from above so they decided to take their chance. They formed up together as a gang, three abreast, and advanced upon the remaining two shaky warriors. “Well.” Said Lord Artanon, gripping his sword and shield tightly. “This is it.” * * * The chieftain was getting impatient. The half-orc had gone from a shrieking blood-crazed animal to a defensive fighter, keeping the bodyguard at bay and just out of reach. He put all his efforts into parrying the hill giant’s attacks, never falling for feints or baiting. Looking over at his subjects, he saw that they were preparing for a final rush upon the humans. Not wanting to be the last to finish he moved around and behind his bodyguard. The bodyguard looked to him and nodded when he got behind him, then turned back to the half-orc. In that instant the chieftain put his hand on his bodyguard’s shoulder and shoved him forward, knocking him off balance and making him stumble. Ragnar reacted in an instant, side-stepping the flailing giant and swinging his axe in an upward arc with all his might. The blade flashed with flames as it connected with the hill giant’s neck and there was a sickening ‘glopping’ sound as the axe cut clean through, severing the head. Ragnar let out a howl, that was cut off by a massive side-arm blow from the chieftain, who had followed his bodyguard’s progress as he used him as a meat shield. Ragnar fell sideways, landing atop the still-shuddering body of the decapitated bodyguard. The chieftain raised his morningstar over his head and bellowed a howl of victory. Then his kidneys exploded, transforming his howl of victory into a shriek of pain. Ragnar looked up groggily to see the chieftain attempting to reach behind his back. Something on behind him and whatever it was had buried a long-bladed dagger into either side of his spine. The giant just managed to grasp one of the hilts when one, then his other hamstring was severed from his leg. Shrieking louder he collapsed onto his back, driving the daggers further home. The chieftain thrashed about in agony, swinging wildly at his unseen assailant. “Ragnar, you still alive.” A tiny voice said into his ear. He thought he recognized it, but his mind was in such a haze he couldn’t place it. “Ma ma?” He said. Ragnar heard an exasperated sigh and then felt something cool against his lips. “Here, drink this. I lifted it off Lord Artanon. Get up and finish that brute!” Ragnar drank the potion down, feeling life and vigor return to his limbs. In an instant it all came back to him and he was on his feet grasping his axe. He looked over his shoulder toward his friends. All his blurry eyes could see was a mass of giants flailing away with their weapons. Nothing could be alive in that for long. With a howl of primal rage Ragnar made a leaping charge at the writhing body of the chieftain. In one savage motion he brought his axe down and into the chest of the prone giant. Ragna’s axe flashed with an intense flame that lit up the area around the chieftain. The giant lay still. Anger still boiling within he turned to the remaining giants. “Noooooooo!!!!!” He howled at the sight that greeted him and charged for all he was worth toward the fray. * * * Lord Artanon watched in slow motion as the giants charged, then the music began. Out of the corner of his eye Natalia Nigthsong had appeared and was singing an angry, guttural song. He could feel the wash of music flow over, then past him. Then, curiously, six of the seven giants stopped in their tracks and began to fight one another. “This is it!” Artanon yelled and he and Oslow charged the remaining giant, who went on heedless of his fellows. Realizing that his strength was sapped almost to exhaustion, Lord Artanon took point before Oslow and held his shield high, an old sign to his friend of the tactic they were to use. Just as giant got close enough to strike Lord Artanon threw down his sword, grasped the shield in both hands, and moved to intercept the oncoming blow. The maneuver usually worked pretty well. The shield shattered into hundreds of metal shards from the impact of the giant’s club. Lord Artanon let out a brief yell as he felt the bones in his left arm break and then jut clear out of the skin. He dropped to his knees as Oslow rushed past wielding his longsword two handed. With a yell of pure frustration Oslow cut deep and true into the giant with a wicked upward slash beginning at the groin and ending just below the ribcage. The Giant turned pale, but did not fall. With a sickening feeling creeping over him Oslow watched in slow motion as the giant pulled its spiked club back for a sweeping strike that would slay both he and Lord Artanon. Then the ten magic missiles impacted into the side of the giant’s head, causing it to rupture and then splatter all over the two nearly broken humans. “Ha ha!” Cried Lord Artanon, pumping his good arm up toward Ari and Gilliam’s carpet, which was not speeding down toward them. “That’s why I pay you the big money!” Oslo took his lord’s good arm and put it over his shoulder and helped him limp over to the bodies of their three fallen companions. Natalia was already there seeing to the fallen. “These two are dead.” She said, pointing to the junior priests. “Trevor still lives, but barely. I’m out of spells for healing, do either of you have anything?” Lord Artanon nodded. “In my pouch, I’ve got three potions of Cure Serious from Kirina.” Oslow opened the pouch and came out with a single vial. Lord Artanon’s face reddened in anger. “Damn that Evan!” Oslow gave Trevor the potion and watched as his body convulsed a few times, then his eyes opened. “C’mon you bas-“ He cut off short seeing he was no longer ringed by rock-hurling giants. “What happened?” Then the pain in his side from the rock impact hit him. “Arrrggghh!!! Gods damn it I hate giants!” Lord Artanon, fighting off shock and letting his broken arm hang to his side watched as the six giants quickly became two. “How long will that last, Nataila?” He asked. “Not too much longer, we’d better go. Ari and Gilliam are nearly here.” She quieted as she heard the howling. “Ragnar!’ They all yelled in unison. * * * Ragnar charged at the remaining giants with tears streaming from his eyes and his heart filled with loss. Only just brought back from death’s door his eyes saw in tunnel vision, and what that tunnel showed was two remaining giants hacking at the bodies of his fallen comrades. He could just see Lady Kirina’s face when she learned her husband was dead. Her husband, and Oslow, and Trevor and his apprentices. “DIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!” He shrieked as he reached the two giants, completing his charge. The first giant caught the axe full in the torso, which immediately exploded all over the ground. Ragnar’s cut continued right into the other giant in a downward slash that gashed its left leg and then bit into and severed its right. The giant collapsed in a howl of agony and rage. Ragnar wasn’t finished. Using momentum to bring his axe around again, he swung it downward with all his might right over the giant’s heart. The axe disappeared into the giant’s ribcage, where it got stuck into ribs and cartilage. Still in a frenzy Ragnar began pulling the greataxe left and right, swearing and cursing for all he was worth, trying to free it for the next foe. “You kill my friends!” “Ragnar.” Said Lord Artanon “They all Ragnar have!” “Ragnar” Ragnar Said Captian Oslow. “Me looe everything!!!” “RAGNAR!!!!” Shouted Trevor Rennard. The half-orc’s grip on the greataxe slipped and he fell backward onto the blood-soaked ground, where he lay a long moment just breathing. “Ragnar.” Natalia said gently. Ragnar’s bestial face turned to the beautiful gray elven bard and smiled toothily. “Ragnar dead?” Natalia and the rest of the companions laughed at this. Ragnar recognized all of them, even Evan’s shrill little laugh. He sat up and looked around. Bodies, over fifty of them lay everywhere. Charred, singed, melted, hacked, and chopped. Whatever one’s fancy, there was plenty of it to be seen laying all around. “We win?” Asked the half orc as Trevor Rennard placed his hands upon and him channeled the last of his healing magic into him. “Yes Ragnar.” Said Lord Artanon, his arm in a crude sling made from one of Natalia’s sashes. “We won.” The battle over, the group went about administering what healing it could to itself. “Hand over that potion Evan.” Said Lord Artanon. “Ask Ragnar, he took ‘em.” Replied the now visible halfling. Ragnar raised his hand. “You give Ragnar one potion.” Lord Artanon’s glare would have withered a castle wall. “Ok ok! Here you go.” Evan handed it over, along with Lord Artanon’s signet ring. The halfling shrugged. “I was just holding them for you. You know, just in case…” “What about the other camp?” Captain Oslow asked. He still wasn’t feeling even 30%, but was still healthy enough to walk. The group, as one, was headed toward the warehouse that housed the captives. “Took off and ran.” Said Ari. “Those summoned monsters beat the hell out of ‘em for awhile, then the fireworks over here must have convinced them that it was safer anywhere else.” Gilliam nodded. “It was quite a view from up there, though I wish we’d have brought some more scrolls. We ran out of the heavy hitters pretty quick. Dammit there were a lot of those brutes to deal with!” Everyone nodded at this. They were lucky to be alive and they knew it. “By the way.” Said Gilliam. “You have to teach me that trick where you summon one of those special Trithereon monsters. Those things absolutely tore the enemy up. They ran away as much because of them as the fireball spells. They’re still alive from what I saw too, chasing those humanoids down to the last.” Trevor Rennard nodded. “Just as a true follower of Trithereon should.” * * * Getting out of Roballa proved to be uneventful but tedious. The Fireseekers’ flying carpet proved to be invaluable for ferrying people across the river to the Flen side of the river. The carpet was only so big, however, and that activity alone took most of the day. After that it wasn’t long before they met a patrol from Godakin Keep and runners were sent ahead for more horses, more food, more clothing, more everything to aid in getting the former prisoners back alive and healthy. Those liberated seemed to be in shock the entire way back to the keep, hardly daring to believe the nightmare of their captivity was over yet haunted by the horrors they experienced at the hands of their captors. Natalia and Tevor spent a lot of time amongst refugees doing their best to spread hope and strength, each in their own way. It was a day’s march to the keep from the Marich Ford under best circumstance, but two days march with the two hundred fifty or so liberated refugees. Artanon refused to leave the group before despite offers from the Ari and Gilliam to speed him home. He was only too happy to allow Trevor to heal his arm, though there was a nasty scar where the bone had broken through the skin of his arm. “Kirina’s going to kill me.” He told the priest as he worked. All Trevor could do is grin and nod. Some problems, he was happy to say, weren’t his…
#4 bdpenney Mar 10, 2005 11:37:49	And, in case anyone's wondering, Howling Ragnar is a Barbarian/Firestorm Barbarian/Battle Charger. This gives him the ability to pretty well nuke his foes when he makes a successful charge attack. It also gives him the ability to make a secondary 'Momentum' attack after making a successful charge attack. Details of the prestige class are below: Battle Charger To be first to the fray! To feel the adrenaline surge through your veins as you charge headlong into your foes, your axe bringing fear and death to all who oppose you. Battle chargers are the equivalent of a small phalanx of horsed men in combat. Battle chargers are fast, strong, and exceedingly deadly when they have the opportunity to execute a charge attack against an opponent. They are apt to charge from one foe to another during battle, so as to take advantage of their ability to deal devastating damage as often as possible. A battle charger can turn the tide of a battle, laying waste to even the toughest foes in short order. Perhaps more frightening is that a battle charger can end a battle before it even gets going, slaying foes en masse before they get the chance to act. Hit Die: d12. REQUIREMENTS To qualify to become a battle charger, a character must fulfill all the following criteria: Alignment: Any non-lawful Base Attack Bonus: +5 Feats: Power attack, powerful charge, improved powerful charge Special: Rage 2/day. Table I: The Battle Charger Class Level Base Attack Bonus Fort Save Ref Save Will Save Special 1 +1 +2 +0 +0 Charge of the rhinoceros 2 +2 +3 +0 +0 Bonus feat (run), momentum attack 3 +3 +3 +1 +1 Greater charge of the rhinoceros, extra rage 4 +4 +4 +1 +1 Bonus feat (hurling charge), greater momentum attack 5 +5 +4 +1 +1 Supreme Powerful Charge, extra rage CLASS SKILLS The battle charger’s class skills (and the key ability for each skill) are Climb (Str), Craft (Any, Int), Intimidate (Cha), Jump (Str), and Survival (Wis). Skill Points at each level: 2 + Int modifier. CLASS FEATURES All of the following are class features of the battle charger prestige class. Weapon and Armor Proficiency: Battle chargers gain no weapon or armor proficiencies. Charge of the Rhinoceros (Ex): At first level, battle chargers who rages may execute a charge attack that far outstrips that of normal individuals. When charging a foe a battle charger gains a +4 bonus to the attack roll but suffers a –2 penalty to his defense until his next turn. Furthermore, each point the character put into power attack when making the charge gives him an additional +1 bonus to damage in addition to the normal damage bonus gained from using this feat. Characters who have the cleave feat and fell their foe with a charge attack may apply their charge attack bonus and bonus damage from the powerful charge feat to the next foe they may strike using the cleave feat. Bonus Feat (Run): At 2nd level, battle chargers gain the run feat for free. Take care to look this feat up, for in addition to not loosing your bonus to dexterity while running and allowing you to run at x5 your normal movement, it also allows you to move at triple your move when making a charge attack. Momentum Attack (Ex): At 2nd level, any time a battle charger successfully hits the target of his initial charge attack, he gains an additional attack at his highest attack bonus against this foe, though this attack is made with a –10 penalty to the attack roll. Battler chargers do not gain the attack bonus from charging, the bonus damage from any powerful charge feat or charge of the rhinoceros ability, and may not use the cleave or great cleave feat with his momentum attack ability. Greater Charge of the Rhinoceros (Ex): At 3rd level, battle charger’s who rage see their charge abilities improve once again. When a battle charger charges a foe he gains a +6 bonus to the attack roll but suffers a –2 penalty to his defense until his next turn. Furthermore, each point the character put into power attack when making the charge gives him an additional +1.5 bonus to damage in addition to the normal damage bonus gained from using this feat. Characters who have the great cleave feat and fell their foe with a charge attack may apply their charge attack bonus and bonus damage from the powerful charge feat to the each foe they may strike using the great cleave feat. Extra Rage: At 3rd level, the battle charger gains an additional use of his rage ability each day. He gains an additional use of his rage ability at 5th level. Bonus Feat (Hurling Charge): At 4th level, a battle charger gains the hurling charge feat for free. Greater Momentum Attack (Ex): At 4th level, any time a battle charger successfully hits the target of his initial charge attack, he gains an additional attack at his highest attack bonus against this foe, though this attack is made with a –5 penalty to the attack roll. Battler chargers do not gain the attack bonus from charging, the bonus damage from any powerful charge feat of greater charge of the rhinoceros ability, may not use the cleave or great cleave feat with his greater momentum attack ability. Supreme Powerful Charge (Ex): At 5th level the battle charger gains a final upgrade to his powerful charge feat tree. This ability functions as the powerful charge feat, but allows you to treat your weapon as one size category beyond what your current ‘Powerful Charge’ feats allow. Hence, a character with Powerful Charge, Improved Powerful Charge, and Greater Powerful Charge of Medium size would inflict +3d6 points of extra damage, +4d6 points of damage for size Large, +6d6 for Huge, +8d6 for gargantuan, and +10d6 for colossal. Note: this damage is not multiplied on a critical hit.