As of 4/2/98


TURN 7: Wounded Dove; Birds of Prey



Hroknar studied the group's surroundings for a moment or two, his gaze shifting from the inn's outer facade to the alleyway and open areas that lay beyond. "I say we go back along the stream to the east and approach the twin towers from the other side of the main commons. From that side, the angle of the buildings might mask our approach, allowing us to get closer than if we were to stay on this side. We also might find a place to put your horses, so that they are out of the way but accessible should they be needed." He turned to the others and asked, "Did any of you happen to look toward the towers, to see if there was anyone on top of them? I didn't look, but then my eyesight isn't as good as yours probably is."

Rogmund shrugged. "I looked, several times in fact as we moved through the hamlet. I didn't notice anyone lurking about. However, we weren't all that close, and any crenalations or similar stonework might hide a sentry or five."

"I believe Hroknar speaks wisely; the angle of the buildings doth seem more advantageous to our needs given the course he outlines, especially since we know not the strength or e'en the presence of any force possibly set 'gainst us," Karissa offered as she moved and took the reins of her horse from Ysoltre, replacing the bit in her mount's mouth and indicating for the minstrel to do likewise with Rogmund's horse.

"A sound plan," Ethan said. "Let's figure out a marching order of sorts and move out. I suggest that Hroknar goes first - sorry, friend - and I'll be close behind. Ysoltre or Karissa should come next; it doesn't really matter to me. Rogmund should take up the rear, unless you'd like to be closer to the front. In that case, I'll tag along behind the others. What do you all say?"

Rogmund gave the young ranger a quick nod of approval. "Rear guard is acceptable. You are lightly armored, and so will have Hroknar at hand to immediately deflect any melee combat. In addition, you are a better tracker than I, and are more likely to notice any tracks or similar signs that might indicate danger. Also, it provides us with arrow cover both fore and aft."

Ysoltre nodded as well and took up his position.

Hroknar turned to his fellows. "Let's be certain to hurry it up when moving across an opening. I don't mean we should run, but let's not dawdle. I don't think we have much of a chance of getting all the way to the tower without being seen, but maybe we could misdirect them a little; make them think that the tower isn't our objective, when all the while, that's exactly what we're making for. Once we get to the other side of the commons, it should be a little easier to keep out of sight, since the angle of the buildings should allow us improved cover." The Dervatear smiled suddenly. "So, if all of you youngsters are ready, let's do it."

The quintet moved furtively down the alleyway, then wove their way amidst the broken and battered ruins, only to backtrack up another alley until they paralleled the stream. From there, they progressed, sometimes in the configuration that they had used upon entering the hamlet, in between Karissa and Rogmund's mounts; other times they progressed single file, Hroknar leading, followed by Ethan, Ysoltre with Rogmund's horse, Karissa guiding her own gray-dappled gelding, and finally Rogmund, the armored archer acting as rear guard.

They paused to search out the mill as they passed, finding the building to still be in good repair. Evidence also was found that indicated some level of recent activity: an attempt at cleanliness and keeping rotting bits of grain from accumulating; some simple, yet effective mechanical devices for capturing mice and similar vermin attracted by the presence of grain; the tell-tale lack of dust, at least of a degree less than that they had witnessed at the inn.

Realizing that conjectures were not answers, the five adventurers eventually proceeded onward, turning south before they reached the edge of the hamlet. Twice more they stopped, drawn to relatively secure buildings that looked to have once been houses. Hroknar's suggestion that the group try to find Ysoltre a change of clothes proved fruitless; everything apparently either had been packed up as the residents left or looted at some later date.

Upon reaching the twenty-five-foot tall wall that enclosed part of the hamlet, the quintet had proceeded away from the gate, for fear that it might be guarded or at least watched by more hobgoblins. Five minutes of careful progress and the group discovered that the enclosure no longer wholly encircled the inner town; great chunks of stone and mortar were clearly visible, as well as extensive gaps where the wall had been battered down as if by some great force.

The group backtracked then, deciding to leave Karissa and Rogmund's horses in the second of the two houses. Once done, man and woman outfitted their backpacks fully, then they and their companions made a second foray into the inner town, pausing at the edge of a section of wall that had been battered or blasted apart. Buildings of stone, wood, thatch, or some combination of all of the materials stretched out before them, huddled under the awe-evoking presence of the two towers that dominated the far skyline.

"It shouldn't be too hard to make our way to the towers," Ysoltre offered as he withdrew from taking a short peek at the situation. The minstrel's brow furrowed as he gazed up at the sky, "The sun won't give us many shadows to hide in, given its current position, but we should stay out of sight if we cling to the sides of the buildings, using them and the trees as cover."

Rogmund took his own peek around the wall. "Seems like we have two choices: continue to try and keep up the appearance that we are not trying for the towers or take a more direct route. I vote for the more direct route at this stage of the game. First, we'll lose part of our cover afforded by the buildings because of the angle shift as we get closer to the towers. Secondly, if we are seen, any hobgoblin sentry would like as not raise the alarm anyway; they wouldn't care where we were supposedly heading, our mere presence in the hamlet would be reason enough to come after us."

"I found the eleven that came after us at the inn to be more than sufficient," Ysoltre said, his face contorted into a rather artistic grimace. "Besides, you were able to use the stairwell to our defensive advantage at the inn; out here, the tactics would have to be quite different. If I have to go toe-to-toe with some burly, berzerker hobgoblin, I'd prefer to be a little better armored than just blouse and hose."

A smile grew on Karissa's face. "With both blouse and hose being a bit worse for wear, at that. At least now thou hast a blade worthy of thy mettle. 'Tis a distinct improvement o'er dagger and butcher's cleaver."

"There is that," Ysoltre replied, his grimace collapsing into a look of pensive contemplation. "Still, Ethan's words about cursed items keep coming back to haunt me. I examined the sword. I didn't see any runes or etchings or whatever, but I must admit to still being a bit worried by the possibility. It's a shame that you can't scry the sword, determine for certain whether or not the blade is enchanted or cursed."

"Aye, 'tis a daunting prospect; the unknown e'er is," the Theavian remarked. "Unfortunately, such a dweomer is not amongst those elements of theurgy I can invoke to effect. E'en if I possessed that capability, the use of such a spell hath a debilitating effect 'pon the caster, and so 'tis not a wise course for one who takes a sojourn into probable peril."

"I didn't mean to put the fear of Dirion in you, friend," Ethan said to Ysoltre. "I'd just rather not see your head melt off when trying the weapon out for the first time. Blades carry a personality, that I'm sure of. Some personalities are enchanted upon the weapon by mages and priests, while others seem to grow of their own accord, as if they are an extension of the blade's wielder."

Ysoltre looked interested, but clearly confused at the young ranger's words. Ethan smiled sheepishly, then continued on, undaunted. "I've heard of swords being wielded by holy warriors, possessing vast powers capable of crushing those creatures of death and darkness; however, in the hands of anyone but a holy warrior, these swords possess only that which the smithy gave them. Not to say that the blade you've got is like that; just something to think about."

Hroknar chuckled softly. "Nice picture you paint there, Ethan." The Dervatear turned to the bard. "I have to agree with our young friend. It's commonly believed among my people that when a person makes something, crafts it with his blood and sweat, he also places something of himself into it."

The Axemaster held his own beautifully crafted battle axe aloft. "Take this, for instance. My father made it for me. It's not that he spent a long time in doing so; it's that he poured himself into the task to make it the best he could, so that I would carry my heritage with me. One day, I hope to do the same for my own child." Hroknar smiled suddenly. "But that is a long way off, and likely many leagues down the road."

Ethan glanced around the wall, and gave a noncommittal grunt. "As far as our advance goes, I agree with Rogmund. If we had the complete element of surprise, that would be one thing. The fact that we cut down - what, eleven hobgoblins - not to mention the disappearance of the former owner of Ysoltre's sword, does away with any surprise we might have enjoyed. No, odds are that someone knows we're here by now, and a direct route would be the wiser of Rogmund's two choices."

The ranger looked back toward his compatriots. "Of course, there is a third choice that Rogmund overlooked: we could all strap down our packs good and tight and make for my place down in Langington. Four days, five tops, and you'd be enjoying the best Cornish game hen you've ever had. A sweet honey glaze with bits of orange and dragonberry, stuffed with havanathe rye bread crumbs and sweetherbs, served with fresh rolls smothered in melting butter, and the best damned Dervatear ale this side of Tsan."

Ethan slipped his index finger across the right corner of his mouth, wiping away a gentle cascade of saliva. "I'm still on vacation," the ranger mumbled as he fixed his grip on his readied bow. "Well, now that I've teased myself senseless, shall we move out?"

Hroknar ran a tongue over his lips. "Now you've gone and done it. Any hobgoblin around is going to hear the sound of my stomach well before we get anywhere near the wretch."

The Dervatear sighed heavily, then appeared to steel himself for the task at hand. "Okay, so we continue on a direct route. How do we want to do that? Stick close to the buildings closest to the northern wall, or more toward the middle? And who's going to lead the way? I'm comfortable with the lead-off position, but if someone would rather take it for while, that's fine with me, too."

Violet eyes captured and gazed into those of the Dervatear. "Thou hast provided security from thy position 'pon all our travels to date. Ethan can let loose barbed shafts o'er thee; thy stalwart strength and armored countenance provides a greater measure of defense than that which our young ranger's armor and build offers if melee erupts. I say stand fast in thy position, Hroknar of the Second Warren, for it hath served one and all exceedingly well."

Karissa's gaze drifted to study the faces of each companion in turn. "The greater question might be whether we want Rogmund to remain as rear guard, or to stand with Hroknar and Ethan in an effort to strengthen our forward position, given that we know the probability of peril lies ahead. Do we sacrifice strength and skill of arm 'pon our rear to solidify our point, trusting in vigilance from Ysoltre and myself to protect 'gainst peril from behind?"

Ysoltre's left hand patted the pommel of his newly gained weapon. "I'm not one to jump into battle for its own sake. However, I'm better armed now, unless this sword turns out to be cursed." The minstrel smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry. I'm not going to take undue chances trying to prove that I can carry my own weight, even if everyone did allow me to sleep the night away and then seemed to do a bit more than I during our encounter at the inn. Still, a group must be able to rely on each of its members to do his or her part. If my role is to protect our collective backside, any threat from that direction will have to overcome my vigilance, and, if necessary, my sword, my dagger, my cleaver; tooth and nail even, if it came to that."

"Well spoken, Ysoltre of Galleyton's Hold," Rogmund said, one hand reaching over to grasp the minstrel's shoulder. "A warrior's honor I publicly acclaim as being part of your heart. Let all here hear and recognize the worth of your words." The armored archer released his hold on Ysoltre. "I, for one, am pleased to have one such as you in our company."

"Aye, a steadfast heart is e'er a thing to be most treasured," Karissa interjected. "Who are we to refuse thine offer? Guard well our nether side, Ysoltre Trueheart; in thy vigilance will we trust."

Rogmund moved forward, smiling at Ysoltre all the while. "Remember the first rule of a warrior's craft: wisdom in battle is to take advantage of one's strengths as much as an enemy's weaknesses. Trollbait is, in many ways, the most deadly amongst us. If we are hard pressed from all sides, try to gain her time and freedom to act. Her magic can be most formidable, and where spells may fail, a Theavian's knowledge of more mundane matters often can provide a way out of difficulties. This is a lesson I have learned through past association, though I was most stubborn for a long while in acknowledgment of that fact."

Hroknar's gaze lingered on Rogmund, the look on the Axemaster's face one of contemplation. "I've never gone into combat with a practitioner of magic before. I wasn't able to observe first-hand how well Karissa was able to account herself in our recent battle, me being a bit busy and all skewering a few hobgoblins on my own. Still, it seems that she did well by herself. If a warrior of your ilk says that I should trust in her magic, then trust it I will."

The Dervatear took a quick peek around the wall, then looked back. "If everyone is ready - not to mention willing to put their necks back in the way of the blade once again - then let's get to it. It's me, followed by Ethan and his bow, then Rogmund; bringing up the rear will be Karissa, then Ysoltre and his sword of ill-reputation. Unless someone is unhappy with that arrangement let's see what lies around this corner, shall we?"

"Into the depths of the nether realm the brave champions trekked, hearts and minds heavy with trepidation and consideration for unknown peril, even as their souls drew strength from the knowledge and conviction that they proceeded along a righteous path, doing good deeds, standing steadfast against the darkling night," Ysoltre mumbled as they progressed, his voice soft and low, barely loud enough for his fellows to hear.

Ysoltre's words seemed to have a calming effect on the group; Hroknar especially appeared to draw the strength of resolve from them, as if the bard's chant somehow embodied the Dervatear's very nature.

They moved furtively, cautiously; first around the rubble of the collapsed wall and across a street to the alleyway between a house and shed. Hroknar then led them around trees and walled yards, then across another street to what was seen to be another burned and pitted former residence. Skirting around the outside of the building, the Dervatear signaled for the others to halt. He pointed across the wide street that lay before them.

"Large building, kind of a 'T' shape to it," Hroknar said softly. "Four hobgoblins outside. Seem to be sentries of some kind, though not very vigilant."

Indeed, four of the massive humanoids lounged about the front of the large edifice. Their armor and weapons - like those the group had encountered at the inn - appeared to be in good condition, as if cared for with meticulous concern.

"Two archers with short bows and swords; two big buggers armed with morningstars and shields," Rogmund offered. "Each wears black leather armor. The mixture of the hobgoblins at the inn followed a similar vein. Told you that hobgoblins were an organized group, as humanoids go."

"So, anyone have an idea what might be in the building to warrant guards?" Ethan asked.

"'Tis a temple, or was 'ere whate'er befell this hamlet did happen," Karissa remarked. She pointed at the structure. "There, above yon doorway, the symbol of a multi-rayed sun of amber interlaid with white. 'Tis one of the Holy symbols of Dirion, He who heals grievous hurts, He whose presence is as the breath of life unto those who live beneath the Celestial firmament."

Rogmund grunted something unintelligible, then shifted his body so that he faced his compatriots. "Now, what would a group of burly buggers such as hobgoblins be doing loitering outside a temple of Dirion?"

Ysoltre's lips curled into a smile as he displayed an emotion he hadn't felt in some time - the excitement of exploring the unknown. "There is only one way to find out," he said in his melodic, alto tone. "And I thought my adventuring days were over."

The bard's gaze shifted from the hobgoblins to take in each of his comrades-in-arms. "There are only four; heavily armed, to be sure, but we bested eleven of them less than an hour ago. We should take them quickly and quietly. Our mystery continues beyond those walls, and perhaps some answers as well."

Ysoltre drew his sword and Hroknar's dagger. "I will be of more service this time around, I assure you, but stealth is a better ally than force. What we need is a distraction of some kind. Any ideas?"

"I would think that losing their heads to the axe of a true Dervatear warrior to be a bit distracting," Hroknar offered, a somewhat grim smile following the statement before it fell away as his eyes shifted back to the hobgoblins across the street.

Hroknar's grip on the haft of his battle axe tightened and loosened reflexively, as if in silent confirmation of the tactical discussions going on within his own head. "As to why they would remain here, near the temple, I have a few thoughts: first, they might have desecrated the temple and are now using it for evil purposes; secondly, they might have someone or something cornered in there, but are unwilling or unable to enter for some reason; third, they might be using the building as a holding area for prisoners or slaves; fourth, the temple might hold some strategic significance of which we are unaware, because of our unfamiliarity with the village."

The Dervatear hefted his axe, bringing it close to his face for study. "Looks like you'll taste blood yet again this day. But before you do, I'll give your smaller mates a chance to do the same." Hroknar placed the battle axe in his shield hand and drew forth a throwing axe from its belt loop over his right hip. "Actually, I was thinking of this for an idea: Ethan and Rogmund use their bows from a distance and from cover to take out the two bow-wielding hobgoblins while Ysoltre and I protect them from the two foot-soldiers with their morningstars when they come this way. How does that sound?"

Karissa's attention shifted from the temple to the Dervatear. "And what be thy plan if those wielding morningstars should not come this way, but issue a warning instead to any who might be within hearing distance?"

Hroknar's brow furrowed at Karissa's words. "I see your point. I don't think we can shut them up fast enough to silence them effectively."

Ethan cleared his throat softly, causing the others to look his way. "I confess that I may not know my hobgoblins as well as the next guy, but I'd bet my right thumb that they're all males. If that's the case, they just might coming running if an attractive woman were to stumble out from behind a building, playing all wounded like and falling upon the ground."

The young ranger eyed Karissa, his brow twitching slightly, a look of concern upon his face. "I don't want to put you in harm's way, Milady. I was just thinking that if you were able to get their attention by playing the wounded dove, the four of us might be able to surprise them before an alarm is sounded. Rogmund and I can take two out with our bows, Hroknar has his throwing axe, and Ysoltre has his two blades."

Ethan glanced at the others, then back at Karissa. "That's the best I can think of, unless someone else has a plan. If you'd rather not give it a try, Milady, Rogmund and I can try to take two of the hobgoblins out from here, with Hroknar and Ysoltre taking out the other two before they sound a warning."

Hroknar, a frown upon his face, stroked his beard absently, obviously weighing Ethan's words and finding part or all of the "plan" to be worrisome. "Karissa as bait? I don't know, Ethan."

"Mmmmm," Karissa mumbled, violet eyes straying to and holding those of Rogmund, "the demure, helpless woman as bait; 'tis a notion that some would say offers merit in certain situations. Such acts are e'en considered sport, in some circles." The armored archer stared back, not breaking the brunette's gaze but saying nothing in response.

The Dervatear looked at Karissa and Rogmund, then at his other companions. "When...when I was just a child, I once saw a cleric of Tseld cast this spell that caused a rowdy young boy at worship to suddenly fall silent. I was wondering, Karissa, if you knew such a spell as well? If so, then why not cast it upon one of the foot-soldiers? That might just keep the wretch quiet long enough for Rogmund and Ethan to silence the bowmen with their arrows and Ysoltre and I to get to the other hobgoblin and engage him."

Karissa blinked once, slowly, breaking the spell that seemed to have entrapped her and Rogmund. She turned and looked at Hroknar. "Aye, a number of dweomers doth I possess that might lay low yon hobgoblins, or at least increase our chances of victory with minimal risk. Yet, since thou hast said that ne'er before hast thou entered battle with a practitioner of the Theavian arts, know that the frequency 'pon which I might invoke such magic is not without limit, and not without a certain debilitating effect that will assail my body 'pon the use of certain spells. If we wish to resort to magic to o'ercome this travail, 'tis an option clearly doable. Howe'er, 'twill mean that I might be unable to employ such magicks later, should we possess the need."

"Yeah, that's always the risk with magic-users," Rogmund interjected. "Magic offers a wealth of tactical opportunities, but you've got to pick your spots. Still, I'm for Trollbait laying the buggers low at this time. We know the hobgoblins are standing there, and the most strategically sound method of overcoming them is to let Trollbait's magic remove them as a threat. Odds are good that we will run into something later on wherein we all will wish Trollbait could zap us out of trouble, and she will be unable to because of the number and types of spells she will have used already. However, to reach that point, we've got to get past our current problem." The armored archer smiled hesitantly. "Unless, of course, Trollbait wants to do that demure, helpless act and..." Rogmund's smile grew wider, in direct proportion to the narrowing of Karissa's eyes as she glared at the man.

"Ummm, something has been bothering me since we first saw the hobgoblins," Hroknar said, his own gaze looking from man to woman. The Dervatear cleared his throat, risked a quick peek at the hobgoblins, then turned back to address his fellows. "Earlier, someone mentioned that it was very likely that our presence was already known and that trying to make our way to the towers was almost certain to fail. Why, then, do these hobgoblins laze about when they should know we are here? Could they really not know that we are near, or are the hobgoblins that know we are here merely using them as bait to force us to commit to a course of action? We have no way of knowing for certain, but these buildings around us might be filled to overflowing with other hobgoblins."

Hroknar's face grew contemplative. He smiled. "Did that make sense? Seems to me that it was just a bit jumbled, but I think you get my meaning. Much as I dislike doing it, it might be best to lure them closer to us, and that means making them believe that the lure must appear to be weak."

The Dervatear looked at Karissa. "If you don't want to do it, I would understand. It is a very dangerous position to be put in. I'd volunteer, but I don't think I can make the illusion hold up." He flexed his massive arms to illustrate the point. Hroknar nodded in Ysoltre's direction. "Perhaps our bard can take that post if you don't want it. With his clothing, I think that Ysoltre might be able to pull it off."

"Nay, I shall do it, if 'tis to be our course of action," Karissa replied, her shoulders straightening in a somewhat haughty expressiveness as she continued to stare at Rogmund, who continued to look slightly bemused by the whole situation. "Yet, for such a deception to work as we wish it, I will have to collapse to the ground, in at least partial view of the hobgoblins. If I were to simply be seen, then disappear, our foes likely would call out a warning. E'en given my prostrate form, such a thing might happen. We all must be prepared for that eventuality. Several courses of action offer possibilities. The most favorable might be simply to allow the hobgoblins to take me, see who or what responds to their entreaty for assistance, and where they take prisoners or...slaves. As Rogmund did say to Ysoltre earlier: know an enemies' strengths as well as thine own weaknesses."

Ysoltre shook his head. "I don't like the idea of you surrendering to them. It is dangerous enough just to play the 'wounded dove.' Dirion knows what they might do to you behind those walls."

"On this, we are both in agreement," Hroknar said, his head nodding absently. "I, like Ethan, am not an expert on hobgoblins. However, I do know a bit about their smaller cousins, goblins. They might kill her for fun, but they also might do it to eat her. For that reason, I oppose that course."

"Hroknar and Ysoltre are right," Rogmund remarked as he stepped forward, towering over the brunette as he stopped just in front of her, forcing Karissa to look up to meet his gaze. "They don't take you, period."

"Really?" the Theavian replied, her voice barely audible as she stared up at her companion, though her gaze was unflinching.

"Really," the armored archer said, a note of finality clearly evident in his voice. "What alternative do you have in mind, Ysoltre?"

"If we must proceed with the 'wounded dove' plan, give Hroknar and I five minutes to circle around behind them," Ysoltre explained. "Karissa then can create the decoy, Ethan and Rogmund will take out two of the hobgoblins with their arrows, Hroknar and I will finish the other two from behind." The bard shifted his gaze to his Dervatear companion, "Sorry, friend, I know the back attack is not your favorite technique, but given this situation, it may be our best bet."

Ysoltre looked to each of his friends in turn. He smiled, all assurance and apparent confidence. "What say you?"

"Ethan and I had better take out the two hobgoblins wielding the morningstars," Rogmund said, though his eyes remained fixed on the woman standing before him. "The fact they wield that type of weapon and carry shields would seem to indicate they are the better of the group in melee combat. That should leave Hroknar and you with the easier opponents. The less skilled an opponent, the more likely you are to dispatch your foe before any alarm can be raised."

"Really?" Karissa interjected, violet eyes sparkling even though her face betrayed no trace of emotion.

"Really," Rogmund replied, still refusing to look elsewhere. "But then you knew what I was going to say before I said it, didn't you?"

A slight smile appeared to play about the woman's lips. "Sometimes 'tis the course of folly to tempt fate, sometimes 'tis the course of fortune. 'Tis comforting to be in the presence of one who knows which path to pursue, and when."

Rogmund shrugged. "Even if it's not the right place or time or best of ideas, make it work, that's my motto."

Hroknar's gaze drifted from the archer to the woman, then to the others. From the look on his face, it was clear that the Axemaster was uncertain as to whether the two were speaking about the hobgoblins, or some other topic of conversation. "A sound motto, friend Rogmund." Hroknar turned to face the bard. "Though your plan is well considered, Ysoltre, I am still concerned that this might be a trap, and feel strongly that we should take such a possibility into account. Might I offer another possible scenario?"

The Dervatear squatted down, drawing crude designs in the dirt. "First, we drop back the way we came, back to a position just one row of buildings in from the wall. Rogmund and Ethan can move even closer to the wall, staying within the shadows of the buildings for cover, taking Karissa with them. Ysoltre and I will remain here. When everyone is set, Karissa runs down the street as if she came through the breech in the wall and is taking the road into this part of the hamlet. She collapses near the fenced yard on the southern side of the street, within sight of our foes. Hopefully, the hobgoblins all move to investigate her prone body. At this point, Ysoltre and I are behind them; Rogmund and Ethan are in front of them, off to one side. When they get close, Karissa 'recovers' and hops the fence for cover as the rest of us attack, Ysoltre and I from the rear or shifting to take out any of them that remain near the temple, while Rogmund, Ethan, and Karissa, if she is able, hit our foes from the front. How does that sound?"

Ethan tested the tautness of his bow string. "Sounds great to me. Let's get moving before those hobgoblins decide to send out a patrol."

Rogmund smiled. "Straightforward, yet sneaky; my kind of plan. You're a strategist after my own heart, Hroknar." His eyes drifted to Karissa, a questioning look replacing the smile on his face.

The Theavian forced a smile of her own, something of a pained expression. "Look not to me, Rogmund Malatreides, I am merely bait for this enterprise."

"And who could resist such an alluring lure?" the armored archer replied. He smiled anew, gesturing with one hand for Karissa to start backtracking along the way they had come. Karissa started off, Rogmund following a step behind.

"Know, though, that if sorely pressed by the hobgoblins and none of thee are close at hand, I shall unleash a dweomer that hopefully will cause the humanoids to fall into a comatose slumber," the brunette remarked as she walked away.

"That's what I like about you Theavians," Rogmund said, "always thinking ahead, always ready to extricate the rest of us from trouble as quickly as we can get into it. Just remember, in this game, you're supposed to be the wounded dove, we're the birds of prey. Get clear and stay clear. We can handle the hobgoblins."

The man paused momentarily, as if a thought had just struck him. "Of course, if this is some type of elaborate trap as Hroknar fears, and if something big and nasty shambles forth to rip our heads from our shoulders, then feel free to join in. We may be a proud and manly lot, but we're not that proud and manly."




Return to the Mystery of the Malgwaith Main Page

Return to the Western Glashia Main Page

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page