Tuesday, May 29, 2012

LEGACY the Path of Heroes - Session 015

SESSION 015 - A Storm Approaches


Siam jumped down from the tree branch with a graceful backward flip, landing in the soft snow beneath the tree that she has taken refuge in during the fight. She brushed her hands off of the cold snow, as she walked past the wolf she had doused with the alchemist fire earlier. The wolf’s body writhed in pain as the fire expunge the last moments of life from its body. The acrid smell made the young rogue’s nose twitch as she walked past the burning body to join her friends.

Siam watched as Marcus rolled over one of the dead orcs nearby. “The creature was a foul looking beast, then again they all,” she thought as she continued to watch the ranger. The ranger first searched the creature for any signs of life, before he searched the body.  Sure that the creature was indeed dead he patted the orc down for any trinkets or clues to why they creatures were after them.

 “Marcus …” said Siam, as she spotting something. “Turn its head this way.” This hadn’t been the first time that she had encountered these foul creatures.  She had first fought them when she had been sent to retrieve the package from them in the hills outside the Mistmarsh for the Merchant Vanaur. “Thinking about Vanaur … she still had a score to settle with weasel,” Siam muttered to herself. Anmar had fought against orcs with the same markings with Ash outside the Gnarley, she and Sven had fought them off before the bastard had knocked her out and tied her to a horse she thought. Now these orcs carried the same markings ….

Erehwon searched the body of the orc that he had slain a few feet away from the group. Turning the dead orc over so that he could get to its belt, he too noticed the markings on the side of the orc’s face.

Darius staggered back from loss of blood and the pain in his stomach. Looking down he could see that the front of his robes were drenched in blood. He watched as his warm blood dripped between his fingers onto the snow leaving crimson stains, as he stumbled back against the tree. The old druid slumped against the tree and let his momentum carry his body to the snow covered forest floor. He watched his friends approached.

Duerin hurried over to tend to the old druid’s wounds. He had seen how the orc had shoved its blade deep into the old man’s gut. The Cuthbertine priest knelt down at the druid’s side and tore away the bloodied robes to tend to the wound.

The wound was grave, but not as fatal as he had first feared. The blade had passed straight through and had luckily not hit anything vital that he could see, but the old man had lost a lot of blood. Duerin set to work at cleaning and treating the wound for infections. Once satisfied, Duerin bandaged the wound with a roll of cloth from his healer’s bag. It was at this point that the dwarf noticed that the others had gathered around him and the wounded druid.

“He has lost a lot of blood! We need to get him to shelter,” instructed Duerin as he stood to talk to his friends. “I fear we have a storm approaching,” said the dwarf as he pointed behind his friends.

Duerin returned to the druid’s side, drawing an ebony wand from his thick leather belt. He gently placed the tip of the wand against the druid’s wound. He uttered the command word to activate the wand and watched as the tip of the wand began to glow with a brilliant light. Darius’s laboured breath soon return to normal as the curative magic flowed through his body.

Marcus and Erehwon quickly gathered the horses and headed back to the group. The ranger was getting more and more concerned as the wind got stronger, he could feel the temperature dropping fast as the storm approached.

It wouldn’t be long before they were caught up in the middle of storm in the dead of the night. They needed to find shelter fast, as they were still a few hours out from the druid’s home realised the ranger.

Siam laughed as she recalled that tonight they would be celebrating the Feast of Fools in the Free City. “Foolish girl, should have stayed at home, ” she mocked, “What have you gotten yourself into this time.”

Minge pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders as curled up in the shallow hole that he found. He watched and shivered as the snow covered his make shift cover of thick branches and an old winter blanket suspend over the shallow hole. It wasn’t long until he was fully snowed in. The little Halfling could hear the baying of wolves close by  and the wind ripping through the trees nearby. “Minge going die! SHUT UP fool! Minge not going die … Master will protect Minge,” mumbled Minge from the darkness of his hidey hole.

1 comment:

  1. Siam kicked ass last night ...
    ... alas, poor Minge!