Rise of the Runelords Session 18: Back in the Saddle Again

"I would like to point out that I'm just doing this to be nice and he doesn't actually have any authority over me," Melissah announced, eyeing her new traveling companions. They'd been on the road a week, but she still wasn't quite comfortable with such a crowd. Her wagon-cum-house was surrounded on all sides by people on horseback. Friendly people, supposedly, but also ARMED people.

"I'm excited!" the gnome bard, Nevis, announced. She was nominally sitting next to Melissah in the driver's box of the wagon, but the term was applied only loosely.

The human wizard, Iozua, grinned. “Hey, that's how we got started on this whole thing. Both doing it to be nice and excited. The . . . novelty wears off after the dozenth-or-so corpse.”

Nevis produced a lute and began to strum it, bouncing dramatically along next to Melissah and causing even the placid mules to twitch snort.

Iozua's somewhat alarming friend Foss nodded. “I'm not even sure how I got caught up in all this, but it's been a hoot, so I'm still here. Except for that haunted manor. That place sucked.”

“Would not visit again,” Iozua added.

Meliisah ventured a smile. Aside from Shalelu, who she'd met a few times, she'd known these people precisely seven days. They weren't exactly unfriendly, but they had seemed a little preoccupied and more inclined to talk to each other than to her. And the bard was, well, a gnome. “Well, it's been very nice to meet you all. I'm sure none of you whatsoever are axe murderers.”

“I prefer the bow,” Shalelu announced.

Foss glanced down at the two axes hanging at his belt, then raised his eyebrows at Melissah. He shrugged.

“Define 'murderer',” Iozua said.

Melissah opened her mouth, not sure what was about to emerge, when Nevis' shrill voice cut the air. “Oh, the adventureres who weren't axe murderers . . . did travel to do goooooood . . . on the trail to mystery through the woooooood . . .”

Shalelu's horse neighed loudly and half-rose on its hind legs, causing the other horses to shy and effectively silencing the talk for a few moments.

“You have a lot of energy, eh?” Iozua remarked once his mount settled.

Nevis grinned. “I have a lot of a lot of things! Oh, let me share with you something I'm working on, I call it Divine Swimmer!” The gnome began playing vigorously.

“Is this a . . .song?” Melissa asked. It didn't sound like tavern music. Or any kind of music, really. But then, she didn't spend much time around musicians, so what did she know?

“I've missed this,” the human woman riding beside Shalelu remarked. She hadn't spoken much during the ride, seeming lost in her own thoughts. By the cut of her clothing, she looked like a noble, and an obvious standout in a group of otherwise unexceptional “travel-folk”.

They were riding along the river north of Turtleback Ferry, a village of some four hundred souls. Fort Rannick lay not far on this road, the home of the Black Arrows. They were a group of rangers who patrolled the roads and kept the villages safe, but for the past several weeks no one had heard from the fort. The river was gray and wild, swollen with recent rains. Livestock and even a few trappers or hunters had disappeared, and the wild animals were growing bold and restless.

Then the pleasure barge Paradise went down with almost two dozen people still aboard. That was the last straw for Melissah. She traveled these roads year-long, stopping in villages just like Turtleback Ferry to sell honey, wax, and mead from the beehives she kept in her wagon. While she could handle herself in a fight if need be, she preferred to avoid such things. Much better for proper soldiers to get involved. People who got paid for this sort of thing.

However, that did not seem to be an accurate description of what the mayor of Magnimar had sent back with her. The getting paid part might be, but proper soldiers? Or, any kind of soldiers for that matter? They looked like a troupe of strolling players, and not your high-class Lord Skillian's Men, all done up in livery. No, this group looked like the kind of strolling players who might become bandits themselves if the villages weren't too keen on their performance.

They reached the bridge, where the road crossed the river, and Shalelu pulled up abruptly. “I heard something.” Foss immediately dismounted, moving in the direction the elf was pointing. Melissah pulled on the reins, bringing the mules to a stop at the side of the road, and jumped down. With the music stopped, she could hear the noise herself, a pained yowling.

“It sounds like a firepelt cougar,” she said.

“We faced one of those before, in Thistletop,” Jori said.

Melissah winced. “I can try to calm it . . .”

Iozua gestured for her to proceed. Foss glanced back and nodded.

“If you can, please.”

Melissah edged past into a clearing. Once she was past the first line of trees, the cougar was clearly visible in the underbrush, panting heavily and struggling with loud clanks against a vicious metal jaw trap. Melissah approached slowly and openly, keeping low and giving the animal a chance to look her over. It didn't shy away like a wild animal, in fact, it crawled toward her. It was clearly trained.

“Will it allow me to try and open the trap?” Foss breathed. Melissah took out a jar of honey from her belt pouch and smeared some liberally on a rag, offering it to the cougar. The huge cat sniffed and licked at the sticky sweetness.

“He should, just don't make any sudden motions.”

With the cougar's attention on Melissah, Foss began to work at the trap mechanism. Behind them, Shalelu's head shot up and she hissed.

“Something's coming.”

Nevis instantly vanished into the brush, while Iozua cast a spell, surrounding himself in a silvery haze that settled toward his skin. Melissah glanced at the cougar, then hurriedly did the same, covering her own skin with a layer of toughened bark that would deflect blows.

A pack of dogs burst into the clearing, followed by a massive, lumbering beast that seemed to be half-man, half-ogre, but warped and deformed. The lead dog immediately went down as Shalelu fired an arrow into its chest. Foss kicked the broken trap aside and axes seemed to sprout from his hands, downing another of the oncoming dogs and stepping forward to shield Iozua and Melissah.

A delighted squeak emerged from the underbrush, and Nevis began to sing at the top of her lungs, “Oh, tehre once was a hero named Foss-man the brave . . .” the remainder was drowned out as Iozua gestured and a mass of twitching, heaving tentacles burst from the ground, seizing the dog pack slamming them to the ground with hideous whines and crunching noises. Melissah felt sick.

“I's huntin' kitty cat! No concern o' youse less youse wanna be hunted too!” the half-ogre bellowed. Not sure what else to do, Melissah summoned a sphere of water to knock the monster aside. He stumbled but forced his way through, knocking aside the tentacles that slapped at him.

Foss hacked relentlessly at the remaining dogs while Jori hurled a lance of searing light at the ogre, who was singed but unimpressed. The ogre jabbed at Foss, who avoided the blow. Between the warrior and the wizard, he went down in seconds, struggling feebly against the churning water orb and then flopping, helpless, to the ground.

Melissah dismissed the orb and wrinkled her nose at the carnage. “Er . . . are we just killing this fellow because we can, or were we planning to, um, question him?”

Foss glanced at her a bit sheepishly. “Okay, maaaaybe I am an axe murderer. A little.” He shrugged again. “He's still alive for now.”

“Oh,” Melissah said weakly. “Ew.”

Jori didn't seem concerned with the ogre only a few strides away. “Anyone hurt?” Everyone shook their heads. Nevis emerged from the bushes, strumming a final dramatic chord.

“That was easy,” Iozua remarked. “It's much nicer with several capable individuals.”

The cat edged over toward the half-ogre and growled.

“I can ask the kitty questions if necessary,” Nevis offered. “It's a skill of my people.”

“Go right ahead, it would save me a spell,” Melissah said.

“What do we want to ask him? Why he's here? I guess I can just translate in general.”

Iozua nodded. “Maybe he will just tell us if he knows anything.”

“Animals aren't usually smart enough to intuit what you might consider worth knowing,” Melissah mentioned, “so you'd want to be as specific as possible.” She shook herself. She was starting to sound like her old teacher.

Nevis cast a spell, and the cat eyed her, interested. “He says his name is Kibb, and thanks for saving him,” the gnome translated. “You're welcome! Who's the bad man?” the gnome pointed at the ogre.

“He took my human. Him and his family. We fled the fort but they took him and his friends.”

“Oh, you're from the fort? What was your human doing there?”

“They were rangers. Humans call them Black Arrows. But the big ones attacked. The ogres. Only three Black Arrows escape.”

“Where are the escaped Black Arrows now?”

“Ogre family has them. The Grauls.”

“We were sent to find the Black Arrrows, were we not?” Iozua asked.

“So your humans left the fort? We were headed that way ourselves. Do you know anything about the fort you could use to help us?” Nevis continued.

“No. Humans escape the fort. Grauls have them at their house. Help me save them?”

“Of course we'll help save them!” Melissah announced when Nevis finished translating. The gnome grinned.

“We'll be happy to.”

“I will show you the way!”

“You're going to want to see this,” Shalelu said, pointing to the ogre. She'd ransacked its belongings and dumped them into a small pile. The ogre's spear and belt radiated magic, but the cloak was what held Shalelu's interest. It had a number of black patches sewn on it—the badge of the Black Arrows. Some were bloodstained.

Iozua shook his head. “Those patches bode ill for their former owners.”

Nevis waved to the south. “Kibb will lead us to the Graul house as soon as you're ready.”

Melissah grimaced at the ogre, who was alive if unconscious. “I'm all for just leaving him. It'll be a good long while before he can cause any more trouble.”

“Do you think he could tell us anything of value?” Iozua asked.

Shalelu snorted. “Seems unlikely,” the ranger replied, tossing her bow over her shoulder and reclaiming her horse.

Foss shrugged. “I'm fine with leaving him. We got enough information from the cat.”

“Leave him to harass someone less capable than we are?” Iozua asked. “I'm not sure that's very . . . responsible.”

Melissah felt ill again. “He's not very dangerous by himself,” she protested, weakly.

“I can drag him back to the village and circle back, catch up with you,” Shalelu said, clearly impatient and wanting to get on with it. “For all we know, he's responsible for the disappearances. The evidence on his person certainly suggests guilt.”

Iozua inclined his head to the elven ranger. “As you will.” He glanced at Melissah, who struggled against an audible sigh of relief.

“That's just fine with me!”

Shalelu and Foss heaved the ogre over her horse's back and she set off toward the Ferry. The others mounted up, Melissah and Nevis climbing into the wagon seat.

“Your sense of mercy is commendable,” Iozua said to Melissah. “The question of when to apply it is trickier in practice, I think.”

Melissah shook her head. She felt foolish. “You don't have to tell me about it. What are they going to do, stuff him in the loft over the store? It's a tiny village.”

“They will engage in whatever form of justice soothes them, I imagine.”

“Probably didn't do him any favors, I know.” Melissah sighed. “Well, let's go before it starts getting dark.

Kibb led them to a partially overgrown trail deeper in the forest. It would be best to approach on foot. Melissah released the harness and tethered her mules, poking around in the back of the wagon until she located Pavander, the honey badger who seemed to have appointed himself her companion. He sleepily waddled out to take guard station next to the wagon.

The Grauls lived on a sickly farm in a forest clearing. The woods around their land were decorated with human-shaped fetishes meant to ward off intruders. A tangled field of corn and other diseased plants grew in the eastern section of their land, while to the north slumped two sagging buildings: a barn and a farmhouse. The windows were boarded over, and moss grew heavy on the shaded sides of the decrepit structures.

Iozua squinted from the shade of the last row of trees. “Can anyone make sense of these tracks?”

Jori sighed. “Shalelu could.”

“I can,” Melissah offered.

"Or that. That works too."

"I can vanish and sneak up to check out one of the buildings first if we want, or I can make you vanish for the same.

"Either way." Iozua said.

“I can transform into something small that won't be noticed,” Melissah said. “We'll go together. Safer that way.”

Nevis nodded and spoke a few words, vanishing from sight. Melissah concentrated and became a bat, flapping up into the tree branches and over to the slumping buildings. She couldn't exactly keep an eye on Nevis, but her sensitive bat ears gave her an idea where the gnome was headed. After circling both buildings, they headed back to the others.

Iozua blinked as Nevis reappeared. “Did not hear you return.”

Nevis winked. “That's the hidden song of silence.”

“There are at least three ogres in the barn,” Melissah explained, “and a barred door, so that would probably be the best palce to start. We could try blocking the entrances to the house so that any ogres in there couldn't come up behind us right away. Well, if we can take out the guard quietly.”

“Sounds good,” Iozua said.

“Ah, yes. Yes, I was thinking something like that too. Good plan,” Foss said.

“How many exits are there from the house?” Iozua asked.

“Two, one on the front and one off on the eastern side, there.”

“You've probably seen ol' pumpkin-head guarding the outside,” Nevis chimed in. “Couldn't see into the house without making a ruckus.”

“Then we probably also cannot secure the house doors without being noticed,” Iozua mused.

“Well . . . I have a spell that could block the doors for at least a little while,” Melissa offered. “It doesn't have much range, though, so I'd have to be really close.”

Foss frowned. “Would the people inside know something was up?”

“It involves giant ice spears bursting out of the ground, so they might notice, yeah.”

Everyone blinked at Melissah for a moment.

“That's awesome,” Iozua said, finally. “Let's definitely do that.”

“Heck, now I want to see that,” Jori added.

"Mighty Melissa brought forth frozen fear straight through the portals in front and in rear!"

Melisah boggled at the gnome. "Is that innuendo?"

Iozua grinned. “In your . . . no. No, I will rise above.”

Jori returned a smirk. “Will you, though?”

“This time.”