The Journal Of Varion Lightbringer (continued)

With their leader in full flight from a bellowing Finni, the goblins all paused. Finni took the opportunity to slam the secret door shut. “Best not head that way!” seemed to be the obvious phrase. We headed down toward the foul temple to Erythnul. Finni overtook us, with Litheem and Robin following, bows at the ready. Humble, Tod and I followed on. Michael brought up the rear, to ensure that none of the goblins tried to force the secret door.

We headed back up to the area by the armoury that we had looted earlier. Ahead of us, we could see a few Goblins and Orcs poking their heads around the corner. Finni charged on, Litheem and Robin keeping him covered. Scoring hits, we gave our enemies pause. Humble and Michael came following through, as Finni turned the corner into the main tunnel toward the exit being backed up by our redoubtable Bard.

Now, all our training with the Madrigal Company came to the fore. Humble forged on ahead, with Michael in close support. Using heavy infantry tactics, backed up by accurate bow and sling work from Litheem, Tod and I, they killed the Goblins and Orcs that were trying to flank us from the barracks area. Finni chose to forego this tactic, simply butchering his way toward the entrance. Our canny Bard kept up a steady rain of crossbow bolts, and the Goblins and Orcs, stunned by this ferocity fled. Robin’s crossbow accounted for several fleeing Goblins.

The flanking goblinoids broke into a full-fledged rout, having seen their allies methodically butchered by superior warriors. Finni kept moving toward the entrance supported by Litheem and Robin. Michael and Humble headed toward the last bastion of the goblinoids, their main hall. Tod followed them. As I was somewhat surplus to requirements, within the narrow confines of the corridor and with Finni and the others maintaining their deadly advance, I chose to back up Michael and his team. I stowed my crossbow (having accounted for one goblin, I am proud to say!) and armed myself with my heavy mace and shield.

In the main hall, Humble deftly blocked a sly arrow, and slew a Goblin in the doorway. We moved in, Humble and Michael choosing to break their formation. Humble moved forward to take on the foot troops, and Michael (somewhat rashly) charged toward the bow-man. I moved toward the double doors, to ensure no re-enforcements. Humble dispatched the Goblins facing him, and turned to reinforce me, trusting his erstwhile ally, our smith to take care of the final goblin. Michael’s battle-cry was cut short by an arrow, catching him in the chest and burying itself deep. His mail-shirt had gaping holes, and this arrow gone through one of them! I turned to see Michael fall once more. He fell badly, and the arrow wound looked dreadful, even from this distance. Humble moved to attack the goblin, as did a furious Tod! Unarmed, he fearlessly attacked; having cast some sort of spell (he later told me it was some sort of magical armour spell). Humble stabbed the goblin, Tod’s familiar (his small lizard) swarmed over the now panicking Goblin, and then Tod seemed to jump into the air and landed a hefty whack to the Goblin’s pate, knocking it clean out!

I managed to staunch the flow of blood, and removed the arrow. Michael, however, was in a very bad way. Our fight, earlier, with the Giant Spiders has taxed my healing abilities severely. So, Tod and I made a hasty litter from one of the pallet beds in the now deserted barracks, and then Humble and I started to bring Michael toward the entrance, with Tod leading the way.

At the entrance, Finni and Robin seemed to have the area secured. The bodies of several Goblins and Orcs littered the narrow tunnel. Humble and I carefully picked our way over the dead and dying. Litheem was keeping watch toward the daylight now streaming in. Finni was all for pursuing the Goblins that had routed back into the side tunnels. However, cooler heads prevailed. I channeled more healing energies into poor Michael’s battered form, exhausting myself. He finally started to come round. Robin gave up the last of the healing potions that we had been given. Litheem went and recovered his elf-spear and another of the masterwork long swords. Tod picked out a sword for Finni. We then took our opportunity to make our way out, and back to the hamlet of Ashton. The Goblin wolf-riders gave us no trouble, seemingly content to let us withdraw. Having seen several dozen of their comrades slain and maimed, without any losses to ourselves, they seemed to have made the obvious choice that discretion was the better part of valour, and stayed well out of bowshot!

Mrs. Fenton was one of the first to meet us, and was distraught that we did not have her daughter with us. I gave her words of comfort, explaining that although we had not found her daughter, we found no evidence that Esme was in the clutches of the goblinoid raiders. I also explained that we had not found Chester Vinter, either. The villagers did seem overjoyed to see us, and we rested up over-night. They fed and watered us as Robin regaled the townsfolk with tales of our adventures. He seemed a little bitter and morose regarding our tale, and somewhat out of sorts. I wonder if the weight of combat and the difficulties we encountered are at odds with his more romantic notions of war and glory. During the evening, Robin, Humble and I discovered that there is an Abbey to Blessed Pelor, near the small town of Restenford (along the coast road, maybe a day or so away to the south. It stands, as the name would suggest, astride the River Resten). We now faced a dilemma. We needed to heal our wounds quickly, and let the leaders in Gradsul know of what we had found. We made a quick choice. We dispatched Litheem on one of our two horses (being the best horseman amongst us, and also needing the least rest) to Gradsul, to inform the leaders there of the military situation. They must be warned of these raiders, and our concerns that this is the prelude to something more! Litheem must impress upon them the urgency of this. I hope his flighty nature does not count against him, and he makes them understand this!

We headed toward the Abbey, at first light, to seek healing for our poisoned comrades, and some much-needed rest and to re-arm. Michael’s armour was broken, he and Finni still were feeling the effects of the spider venom, and we could all do with rest in a safer environ, I felt. Finni was all for heading straight back to the abandoned Dwarf settlement with the goblinoids in it, but (having voted on it) we headed south. The Abbey is only a day or so away, and we can hurry back, quickly.

Arriving at the town without incident late on, we discovered it seemed to be a poor, ramshackle sort of a place. The keep, such as it was, was a poor affair. I do fear me that should war pass through here, this place would not withstand a siege for too long. Again, our leaders need to be aware of this. If war comes, this could be a key strategic position, in my opinion. It could be defensible, covers the coastal road in Keoland from the south and the Abbey could also be a key facility. Great Pelor’s servants are well known for their healing abilities and power over evil and un-natural opponents. It sat on a hill, overlooking the small ramshackle town. It is a much different affair to the Great Temple, in Gradsul, where I served my novitiate. Humble commented that it was also so far removed from his small church where he heard his calling. It seemed a more contemplative sort of place, a haven of peace and tranquility from the hustle and bustle of normal life.

The Abbot, Father Anselm, bade us welcome to his priory. Without too much fuss, the monks treated Finni and Michael’s poisoned wounds. Whilst here, we discovered what the various items were that we had found. The magical arrows, long spear and shield had simple enchantments upon them. The three potions that we found appeared to be two of healing and one enabling the drinker to levitate! What a wonder….can a man really levitate or fly using a mere potion?

The jar of unguents appeared to be something called “Keoghtom’s Ointment”, named I assumed after its inventor or discoverer. This valuable balm appears to be a sovereign remedy to poisons, disease and some wounds. Oh, if only we had known this before! The scroll I had stowed away contains some minor wounding spells and a spell that delays the onset of poison. Given the rapid recovery of the Orc leader, and the wounding spells on this scroll, I wonder if they were penned by his own hand, and if he has some unholy power from Gruumsh? Or, is he the priest of Erythnul? I did not get to see him close enough to check for any unholy apparel. The more that I think about this, the more I am convinced I have hit upon the truth. Given the Orc leader’s secret chambers, and their access to that foul shrine, not to mention that infernal hound of his, I am now convinced he is much more than a mere raid-leader or chieftain. Amongst the other treasures that we had were the silver dining service, and small barrel of best brandy and the looted masterwork long swords and the two-handed sword. The two silver daggers appear to be normal daggers with an alchemical silvering, as does the single silver arrow we have.

Finni seems to be keeping an accurate track of these and other odds and ends. Whilst we were cataloguing our finds, he produced an hourglass, a silver chalice, various odds and ends including a small jade comb and other oddments.

Whilst the others busy, I took some time to immerse myself in the small library at the Abbey, regarding the nature of magical spells, healing and religious lore. I talked with the various priests and monks within the Abbey, and even had some small talks with the Abbot himself, a quiet, kindly and fatherly figure. I told him of our adventures, and my concerns. He taught me some simple mental exercises to aid my concentration and helped me to understand Great Pelor better. It was almost as if I could feel my bond with my Lord strengthening as we spoke. The Abbot seemed well pleased. I also took the opportunity to ask for my armour to be mended and improved. I was directed to the small smithy. There, Michael took it upon himself to add a chain skirt to my scale armour, and hammered out the various dents in its scales. His own armour was patched in the smithy by his own hand as well, and he likewise added a chain skirt to it, creating a chain hauberk. He also made minor repairs to the rest of our armour. It would seem this was part of his own healing process, as he looked very content working away in there. I gave Humble my Madrigal Company tabard, as his had been burned away, and I am now clothed in my Lord’s colours. I will try to find a seamstress to add the Madrigal Company badge to it, but it seems right to be dressed as I am, now.

Over the next few days, we all healed our physical wounds and eased our worries somewhat. We also took some time to learn a little and discuss things. Tod and I had several talks about the nature of magic. I am concerned that the patches of blue scales have increased on his body. When I mentioned the legend concerning dragons’ blood in sorcerers’ veins, the poor lad went all to pieces. I wonder what upsets him so about dragons. He does seem to be growing in stature and confidence. There is a lot more to our cook than meets the eye, and I think I may need to counsel him. He is carrying a lot of anger, I perceive, and I do hope he will share his story with me.

Michael, Finni and Humble could be seen practicing various moves and combinations of fighting techniques. Watching them, we were all encouraged to take to the practice field, and our warriors gave us a few pointers. I am tempted to try my hand with the Masterwork Sword that I have, but for now (at least) I will stick to my trusty mace. Finni’s aggressive combat style seems well-suited to his axe, and he has started to practice using that alongside one of the looted masterwork swords. He was truly formidable during our retreat to the surface. I would not want to be on the wrong side of him, now that he is using the two of them, together!

Michael took to practicing with his new-found magickal long spear, setting aside his old and somewhat battered glaive. Even someone as unschooled as I in the arts of war can see that he is becoming most proficient, far beyond the average foot soldier! I daresay that he would not be so easily pushed off of his fighting platform now, should he be in the same situation! Humble continued to practice with sword and shield. He is also becoming more skilled and will be a staunch ally in the days ahead, I feel. Watching our three warriors, it’s quite fascinating to see the differences in their combat techniques. Finni’s almost uncontrolled aggression contrasts with Humbles studied and stoic defence, and elegant swordsmanship. Michael is more intelligent than most warriors, a cunning tactician who uses his weapon’s reach to great advantage.

Robin spent his time practicing various tumbling routines, sleight-of-hand tricks, skimming over a few of the books within the library, talking with a few of the monks and so on. He seems to be what my father would have called a Jack-of-all-trades. He soaks up tit-bits of information like a sponge! How he keeps all this straight in his head, Pelor only knows! He also seemed itching to work with his swordplay on the practice field as well. His weapons are light and fast, rapier and dagger, in contrast to Finni’s style of combat. Every so often there would be odd noises and flashes of light from Robin’s room where he was resting, along with snatches of music and song. I discussed the sorts of spells that he casts, and it would seem to be some sort of sorcery akin, but different to young Tod’s ability, based around his music. He quite literally weaves his spells through song, fascinating stuff, indeed!

It seems we are soon to be ready to return to Ashton. I think we will be leaving at first light. We need to see if we can find out what has happened to Esme and Chester, and we need to recover the perfumes for Madame Farene. I fear for those two youngsters more than ever, now. If the Orc leader is a priest of Erythnul, I dare not think what fate may have come to them. I would also like for us to recover the rest of the salvageable trade goods and items that we came across. I wonder if our little wagon will be sturdy enough? I hope that, in our absence, the raiders have been kept cowed; licking their wounds and not taken flight, or worse still attacked Ashton! I would like to finish them off, destroy that nasty little shrine to the God of Slaughter that small army of skeletons. I hope, if that Orc is a priest, that he has not had a chance to animate those of his small force that we destroyed! Also, what IS underneath the shrine? Those skeletons are stood over that trap-door to whatever is below, and I was ever-curious! I suspect more foulness in this hill fortress than we suspect, beyond this Orc and his raiders. Perhaps they might be cells under there, containing our two missing youngsters? Or perhaps more catacombs and further areas that were once lived in by sturdy Dwarves? I am itching to discover what may be found.

I will miss the Abbey with its tranquility and peace, but I know that I will always be welcome here. It is a comfort to know that should I need a place of quiet contemplation and retreat, I can come here. I will leave with a renewed sense of purpose and confidence, but with worries gnawing at me, like dogs with an old bone.

Author: Jon Burfoot