The Curse of Calamus

[Quiet_Cool]

DaSanda and Richard

DaSanda reached Richard's room and found him aslepp. SHe looked him over for a moment. Richard the Brave? Surely he was, she thought. He certainly looked brave.
"Sir," she said, shaking him slightly. "Sir, it is time to rise."
At the same time, Briomen entered the dwarf's room, thinking, they certainly are short, aren't they, and announcing, "Come, it's time to leave. We'll be met at the gate by warriors. We must hurry. Nightfall is never so far away these days, and bears many dangers."

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard

His eyes slowly opened, and he looked up at the beautiful elf shaking him awake. He blinked for a moment, not wanting to leave the bed. "What? Now? Without a good night's rest or a chance to stock up on supplies?"

He sighed, and stood up, He pulled his dark cloak back on, and set his hat on his head as he stared at the bed in longing for a moment. Finally, Richard turned to the door. "Oh well, best catch up before they leave me here."

In the few minutes it took for him to realize that he in fact did want them to leave without him, he'd already gotten directions and run into the rest of the group. Sighing, he looked them all over. "What have I gotten myself into?"

 

[Firesprite]

Kyleen

Mounted on her horse, Kyleen waits patiently for the company to depart. Readying her bow and arrows, she plans to keep an eye on things.. hoping to get some fresh meat for their next rest stop to complement the salted venison the giant carried, while keeping a watch out for enemies

With a slight smile at Richard, she turns to the wizard, awaiting the signal.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

At the gates...

"Whenever Uwef arrives..." Muttered the wizard, looking around impatiently. "Perhaps those short legs cannot carry him so quickly as we'd like."
"Pardon," Briomen asked. He'd arrived back from waking the little fellow five minutes ago.
Pennindar shook his head. "Just talking to myself."
When they reached the gate, thirty elvin warriors waited for them, already prepared to move. Combined with their own nine, should the dwarf make it there at all that was (and wasn't there another elf in there somewhere? He wondered. It seemed one of them was missing), they made quite a party, even if it was just to the edge of the wood.
Now, as the minutes ticked away, feeling like hours apiece, he began to wonder if the dwarf had had a change of heart and decided he wanted to stay, not that the elves would take kindly to a dwarvish boarder in their city.
After a few minutes had passed, DaSanda came quickly toward Briomen, stopping before him.
"Briomen," she began, "With your permission, I wish to go along."
"Has the Council approved this?"
She nodded, "With your approval."
"Very well," Briomen returned. "You're healing abilities may indeed come in handy. But you must return with the other warriors."
"As you wish," she replied, bowing to him, then walking over to where Richard stood.
"Perhaps we will get to know each other better, Richard the Brave," she whispered to him, smiling sweetly.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Uwef:

"Arrr. What in heaven's name?" My mind rattles through the fogginess that sleep had brought on. I realize that someone had tried to wake me a while ago. Grabbing my clothes from various hangings, I quickly dress and tuck my necklace against my chest.

As I hurry toward the group, I repeat my earlier statement quizzically, "What in heaven's name?" Apparently being in this elfish town has healed the menacing pimple on the bottom of my tongue. Now, free from the speech impediment, I begin to amuse myself singing about Bacon and Eggs.

Finally, I skip up to the group. "A wonderful day it is, Master Mage. Indeed, why have we yet to depart?"

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Finally...

As he sees Uwef hurrying toward them, he sighs with relief. At last, he thinks. Then the dwarf speaks, and he stares in wonder.
English? He wonders. Plain, and clear English?
"You are full of wonders as well," He says, smiling."Now, let us be off."
The gates slowly opened and they departed, waving good-bye to the young elves that had gathered around to watch them leave.
Within a few minutes, the city was out of view again, gone as easily as it had come. They moved ahead, wanting to make as much leadway as they could before nightfall, which seemed eminent no matter how early it was.
"How far to the wood's edge?" He asked Briomen.
"Possibly thirty miles. On horseback, we should make it just as the sun goes down, given no complicatins," Briomen responded. "but something troubles me about these woods. It's as though the trees have eyes."
"Indeed," Pennindar agreed.
"Trees? Have eyes? What does he mean by that?" Talbot's voice said from the bad on Pennindar's saddle.
"He means that it feels as if we're being watched, Talbot," the wizard returned.
After a few more miles, they stopped to rest, making small talk with the elves as they ate and watered the horses at a nearby stream. Then they continued on until they came to a large summit, the slope seeming almost impossible to climb.
Here, they stood in a small, valley-like area, with the great slopes on either side. the valley hooked to the left ahead, off their course and out of sight, far away.
"Can we make it up?" Pennindar asked.
"I believe so," Briomen replied, "But it wouldn't be wise."
"Oh?"
Briomen shook his head, then turned his body suddenly, raising the bow Pennindar hadn't noticed him taking hold of and drwing an arrow from his quiver in one quick motion. He let the arrow fly within a second of the last words he'd spoken, and the arrow flew off toward a distant tree. A second later, the large form of an orc fell from the limbs, striking the ground almost thirty yards away.
The others elves were already on guard, having reacted to his movements with a haste that led Pennindar to believe they'd known the orcs were there as long as he had, or perhaps knew him well enough to know to take arms at such an action.
"What the...?" The old wizard muttered.
"We're probably surrounded, and the peak would have given them position on us, if they don't ave it already. Quickly, we must move forward, but on our guard." Briomen said, hurrying his horse forward.
Already, Orcs were streaming out of the trees to either side.
"We cannot kill them all," shouted Boguras, following Briomen forward.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Uwef:

How unfortunate for Uwef: he does so despise orcs. Not to mention, that his incredible fear of heights includes being atop this elfish pony. He remembers thanking that stocky elf for loaning it.

Now, on the outskirts of out and out battle, Uwef cowers down on the pony and silently hopes that Mer will keep him from harm. What a despicable situation for Uwef, indeed.

 

[Firesprite]

Kyleen

Even though he wasn't the one doing the killing, Sharp was singing along with the twang of Kyleens bowstring as she rode. Guiding the horse witht the pressure of her knees, she had no sooner nocked an arrow as it was speeding off into the trees to find an orc impaled.
She smiled at the song Sharp chose to sing. Richards legendary routing of the Orcs.

A roof in the night
a man in black
braving the hoard
he held them back

His arms held wide
his voice so deep
he forced them back
so others could sleep

A roof in the night
a man in black
braving the hoard
he held them back

Mer knows his heart
his heart so true
he wishes the sky
the sky remained blue

A roof in the night
a man in black
braving the hoard
he held them back

A thief in the night
a friend in the day
he stayed up all night
and kept them away

A roof in the night
A man in black
braving the hoard
he held them back

 

[poohlive]

A deep growl emerged from Sebulba's throat. He could see the monsters coming, fast as they could. He glanced over at Richard. Why was he not doing anything? Last time he got rid of them all... now he looked almost powerless?
Sebulba turned around, eyeing the other orcs coming from the rear. Not as many, but still plenty enough to make for a good fight. There really wasn't good odds here, more like a slaughter waiting to happen.
His axe already gripped tightly in his hand, Sebulba spied the closest orc. Just a stone's throw away, and running like the wind.
With a juttering growl he let his axe fly.
It spun in the air, end over end. A thing of beauty, the pain it could inflict lost in the blur of wooden and sparkling blade.
It sunk deep into his chest. The orc cried out, before slumping to the ground. In an instant the giant ran after his only weapons, keeping his eyes on the other orcs.
He wouldn't get there in time, they were already closing in. With a lunge, he went for the nearest orc. Teeth and claws dug into his flesh. Screaming he fought for his life.
From the noises heard around him, everyone else was as well.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Uwef:

Seeing the giant crashing into the orc, Uwef tries to jump off the pony--effectively landing him face-down on the ground. In a flash, the short dwarf rose to his feet, pulling his heavy-axe from behind him. From nowhere, he pulls his helm out from under the cloak and drops it on his head.

"ARRRR!" In an uncharacteristic show of courage and loyalty, Uwef charges into a nearby orc, trying to help the giant. After cleaving the first orc's skull, Uwef is tackled by a second orc who happens to land on the large axe. Now stained in blood, Uwef dances closer to Sebulba ;and, when Sebulba eyes him, the dwarf replies, "You helped me from the nighthounds, I figure I owe you."

Turning his back to the giant, Uwef sees a large orc less than two meters away with a raised blade. An axe is a poor weapon for speed and before Uwef can raise his axe or his arm in defense, the orc is on him. However, instead of immediately ripping into the dwarf's face, the orc merely goes limp as the two figures crash to the ground. Uwef pushes the orc off of him and sees the long arrow sticking out of the orc's back. Raising his eyes, Uwef searches for the source of the arrow, to pay his thanks.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard

Richard had smiled at the elf when she had said she wanted to get to know him better. He nooded, and tipped his hat. "Perhaps."

He had wrapped his scarf around his face as they set off. Most of the others had horses, but he stayed on foot. While horses might be able to run harder longer, he didn't want to stifle his agility with the creatures. Then, the orcs came.

He stood silent a moment, eyes scanning to pick up where the enemy forces were. Once the battle raged, Richard was lost. He could not fight hand-to-hand. One, maybe two, yes. But if three came at him, one after another,....he would die.

He sighed. Nothing was ever easy. He pulled his Fang free, eyes darting around. He doubted if he could convince them of 'Lord Death' again, not without the dramatics to back it. Besides, what if they knew the truth.

Well, only one thing to do. He threw himself forward, screaming at the top of his lungs: "Beware, for Lord Death hunts you! No quarter shall be given! Death to all orcs!"

The steel of his Fang met against the steel of an orcish blade as his pown battle began. One he doubted he would survive....

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The battle rages...

The orcs were verywhere, climbing down from trees around them and moving down from the slopes to either side.
"We cannot win this," Briomen said. "We must find an escape."
But escape may have already been a lost cause.
Pennindar looked behind him to see the giant and the dwarf fighting the orcs with abandon, greatly outnumbered and about to be slain, should things continue as they were. Richard was also fighting, and Kyleen and the elves were firing arrows toward the enemy, trying to lessen their numbers as they grew closer.
"Quickly, gather everyone together and we'll make through the valley. Let us hope that ahead is safer ground," Briomen told the wizard.
Boguras was moving toward the dwarf and giant, watching the two dispense of as many of the orcs as they could, only to have each one replaced by two more.
Another warrior would help, but how much could the three of them possibly do.
Pennindar grabbed at his mace, deciding that, should they perrish, they would do so as a union.
"Charge the enemy," he shouted, hoping that a sudden rush would scatter and confuse the orcs enough to help them escape.

 

[Darklord]

Jurax

At Barriste's questions Jurax wrinkled up his face in intense concentration, then his face sagged like he had finally got something and grinning he said "Me Jurax Gunn, from North Moutain hold of the Bloody Hand Clan of the Ogre Smite Tribe. Me on way back to horde when orcs take me pris... pri.... umm... put chains on me in night after me feast on... on... ummm.. *whatisthat animal with horny things on head...* ummm.. an animal. Me fight for gold. My clan be very far thataway (pointing north) many many many many moons journey, cold too."

 

[poohlive]

Sebulba threw another one off of his back, grabbing the two that were scratching his arm. With a loud growl in his chest, he crashed the two orcs together. The molded into each other, falling effortlessly to the floor.
There wasn't time to enjoy this small victory, he was already being attaqcked once more. His battle axe was within reach, in an instant he had it, winging it at neck's heighth.
Blood spewed onto the ground, as four heads came whirling up into the air. They fell to the ground just as the bodies did. Limbs twitched, still not sure they were dead. Four of them at once, and it still wasn't enough.
One was on his back once more, making the sharp axe in his hand useless. He dropped it, grabbing two orcs in his hands, and squeezing like there was no tomorrow.
A sharp pain came from his side, he felt the cold steel ram right up into him. An orc dagger, short, but sharp and deadly enough to do damage. Blood spilled to the ground. He let out a cry, half anger, half pain.
It even hurt his own ears.
The orcs were lifeless in his hands now, he whipped them around. One grabbed the knife, and the other the nearest orc. He threw them both as hard as he could. Falling endlessly against the sea of orcs still coming.
Just as he was about to take on some more, they beat him to it. Three more jumped acround him, grabbing, biting, punching, kicking. He tried to keep his balance, but couldn't. Orcs and all, the 15 foot tall giant fell to the ground.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Defeat?

The orcs were everywhere, crowding in on them at times, and scattering to get better position at others. Either way, their numbers were incredible, and possibly inescapable.
"Cut them off before they reach them," Boguras shouted to the other elves, pointing toward the giant and the dwarf, both ebing attacked ceaselessly by the enemy. The giant was being attacked more intensely than the dwarf, the idea to take out the largest threat, no doubt. And they certainly had chosen the right target.
The giant, finally overcome, though not greatly injured so far as the wizard could see, lost his balance and fell, the orcs around him leaping out of the way of his large form.
Some of the elves moved ahead, seperating the large group of them, half moving closer to the fallen giant and the dwarf, and the other half moving to where many of the orcs were coming from, trying to slow their advance.
Arrows were raining down, being fired by some of the elves at long range targets while others stood in front of them, attacking those near with hand weapons.
The bodies of orcs lay everywhere, but still, more came, seeming unaffected by the loss of their fallen soldiers. Those that moved toward the giant were there in seconds, slicing away at the orcs that clung to him, sending heads and limbs bloody to the ground, pushing bodies out of their way. The wizard was with them, bashing the orcs in their heads with his mace, then turning to swing at another, often just in time.
Once those that held the giant were slain, they encircled the scene, making sure to help battle the orcs away from the dwarf and Richard as well. The other elves joined them, moving back to strengthen their position, but the numbers were strongly against them.
"Quickly," Boguras shouted, "Stack the bodies, build a barrier with them."
As most of them fought, some quickly drug the bodies and began to stack them, piling them around to form a large square. The barrier when finished, was only three feet in height, however, and merely distracted the orcs' attacks.
"Hanavess?" Briomen shouted.
"I think he's been lost," one replied.
"Well, then you," Boguras replied, "take a quick count of how many remain, altogether, not just elves..."
The elf hurried around the giant's lying form, glancing to see how many stood near.
Pennindar, swinging at random orcs as they stretched their arms and bodies over the top of the barrier, too a quick step back, dropping his mace and thrusting both hands forward, palms outstretched, his eyes temporarily closed, whispering a few words in haste.
The bodies forming the barrier in front of him suddenly burst into flames, catching to the orcs that were reaching or climbing over them and sending them backward, on fire. Cries of pain pierced the air as they writhed on the ground on the other side.
The old wizard rounded the group, lighting the corpses on each side in the same manner until they stood within a box of fire.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

A trail of footprints...

"Well, then, Jurax, perhaps..."
Barriste stopped in midstride, looking at the ground before him. He'd not noticed until they were on it, but now, he wondered how he'd missed it.
A wide trail where what looked like an army had moved though on foot. Footprints pressed into the ground, too large to be human, marching off to the West.
"Orcs," he muttered, thinking that there must have been a second exit from the caves. "But where are they going?"
He thought for a moment, wondering if more were coming, but thinking too that those that had already gone were headed back in the direction of the house.
"The wizard...he must be alive." He whispered.
"Jurax," he said, after another long pause. "I must follow these prints. Should you decide it too dangerous, I will understand."
With that, he headed off at the fastest pace he could manage.

 

[Darklord]

Jurax

He too looked at the footprints, and for the life of him couldn't understand why the guy was so excited by them, but since he had gotten them this far he decided to follow anyhow. "Me like danger" was his only words to him, as he jogged alongside Barriste.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard

As it happens, Richard watched the firey box they were in with mixed emotions. He looked up at the wizard, and raised a hand to point up at him, for Richard was lying on his back on the ground. "You do realize that at some point they're just going to jump through the flames, right? Even if they die, we'll have fires, and bodies, and eventually things will just become ugly."

He looked down at himself, taking inventory. His cloak was full of cuts and tears, and he'd have to mend it once he got the chance. There was a small pool of blood around his right leg, and a burning, stinging sensation from that same area. He stared at it for a few moments, not comprehending how the small puddle of red liquid and the pain were connected.

"Oh, dammit."

 

[bobo_daclown]

Uwef:

Surrounded by fire and happily orc free, Uwef staggers to his feet. "Arrr. Thank you, good mage, this will slow the savages." Uwef listens to Richard's thoughts and silently agrees with the dark man. Looking at his own body, Uwef sees no wounds and turns to the giant, "Sir giant, how did you fair?"

 

[poohlive]

Sebulba stirred to his feet. He leaned heavily on his axe, blood seeming to seep from his every pore. The small dagger still clung to his side, but he was afraid to pull it out, sometimes pulling a weapon out could cause just as much damage as when it went in.
Through bloody teeth he made a growl, but it seemed more like a groan than anything, "I live."
He doubted much longer unless he could see to his own wounds. Straightening his back, he looked over the fort that no protected them all. For now, the image of their bretheren burning was holding them back, but from the looks dancing through their eyes, Sebulba didn't doubt that fear would be for long.
It would only be a matter of time, they had to destroy the whole lot, or run away. It was their only two options at this point. He wasn't an expert at war or huge fights, but there seemed to be no other way.
His axe would swing at the little buggers even after he had taken his last breath. As the others though, he stood back, thankful for the small break to catch his breath.
His bones were eager for more blood to be shed, the thrill of death was calling to him. They wanted a fight, he would give them one, even if they were outnumbered.
Still, he let the decision be made by the others. Despite his own want, the others were smarter, and knew what to do.
Warily, he stood back, waiting to fight again.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard

He groaned, and braced his hands on the ground, forcing himself into a sitting position. He opened one ofthe gashes in his cloak, silenty examining the wound. He was no healer, but he could tell that at least it didn't hit bone. Elve must have taken thaat one down before he finished the swing, thank the gods.

He looked around. Fire. Orcs. He couldn't see much beyond, because he was sitting. He gave a small smile, and looked over at the wizard. "Okay, I know you can make fire, but can you do other things? I think if we add the right effects to this, we can run them off with fear again."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The fire box and the singing trees

"Perhaps you are right, Richard," Pennindar agreed, "but perhaps fear will motivate them to drive at us harder. Their fear can be out ally or our enemy, which makes playing with it very dangerous right now."
He thought for a moment, wondering what sights and sounds he might crete to scare them off should the moment arrive when they had no other choice.
"How many have we lost?" Briomen asked, turning to the elf who'd made it's rounds.
"Of ours," he began. "We've lost nine, and yours seem to be accounted for, though Richard the Brave and your friend the giant seem to be in a bad way."
DaSanda looked the two over, deciding that the giant should take precedent, his injuries appearing the worst.
"Can I be of service, my giant friend?" She asked. "I can make them go away. You'll be as good as new...well, almost. Sore, and possibly a bit achy, but that will pass with time."
She looked at him hopefully.
"Ssshhh," Briomen said, raising his head as if to smell the air. He looked around him, eyes scanning the sky. "Do you hear it?"
Pennindar listened for a moment.
"Hear what?" He finally asked.
Briomen pointed ot the sky, listening again. "That..."
"I hear it," Boguras said. "It's like...the trees are singing...or whispering."
"And what do they say?" The wizard asked, wondering if his compaions had lost their minds.
Then, he did hear it. Like a whispering, thousands of voices all together in chorus, words overlapping until they were indistinguishable, both incrediably distant and all-too-close.
What is it?" He asked, looking to Briomen.
"I don't know. It's been said that this part of the woods..."
"What?"
"Are haunted," he finished.

 

[The GrandMage]

Richard

He groaned. "Don't call me that. My name is Richard. Nothing else. Just 'Richard'. And I seriously doubt that the woods are haunted. Ghosts don't exist."

Richard forced himself to stand, leaning heavilly on his good leg. He looked around, and shrugged. "Well, looks like fear is being used on us. Maybe the forest will eat the orcs. Though I doubt it. Haunted forests, really. Haunted by what? White floating spectors? Why? Why haunt a forest?"

 

[Quiet_Cool]

The dragon fields

The men rushed forward, the giant spear rolling on the wooden wheels attached, driving toward the beast's ribcage. It shrieked in pain, body tensing, fighting against the restrainst. The thirty men held it, pinning it to the ground, not letting it fight any more than they had to.
"C'mon," the captain shouted. "Finish it off. The men are getting tired..."
The men on the opposite side rushed it, driving a spear identical to the first inot its other ribcage, causing it to shriek again, but now it was much weaker, worn from both fighting and being attacked.
In the sky above, dragons flew for the hills, escaping with whatever haste they could manage, leaving the wounded behind. Instincts had kicked in, and survival of the fittest was in effect. Those that were wounded were left to die, and those hat weren't fled, some on foot and being pursued, those with wings moving through the air.
Men had flooded the ground early that morning, taking the few dragons that had been moving through by surprise, thousands of men. They'd killed those without fail, or trouble, then slipped back into hiding, taking the bodies with them, and stripped them, wanting the bone and hide, and leaving the meat to rot.
More came, as it was a common place of passing for the creatures, and as the day went on, they killed more, until then, when more had moved into the field than had been there at any point in the day.
The men had swept across the grass, driving toward the beasts and attacking, slicing skin, firing arrows.
As the afternoon swept on, they attacked, tracking down the dragon, which at first, tried to fight for one another, but finally gave in to the numbers and fled.
The field lay behind them, the bodies of dragons of all kinds being skinned and mutilated, taken apart for their worldly riches.
How, she thought, did the world come to this? She flew overhead, looking down through the dead, wanting to cry for them.

 

[Quiet_Cool]

And the ghosts...

While Richard was making sense, still the whispering continued, until the words almost flooded the old man's head. He knew the elves heard it, by the looks on their faces, and he wondered if the others heard it (Perhaps it was somehow magically inclined?).
Then words started to form. Or he thought they were words.
"We...should help them..." Was that it?
"Can't let them...help them...can't let...help...can't...help them..."
The words seemed to echo inside his head until he tried to cover his ears to block them out.
Then Richard's words rang clear...orcs jumping through the flame, seeming unaffected by the voices around them. Again, it seemed the voices were magically inclined.
The first of the orcs landed right next to him, shoulder on fire, shrieking. Boguras struck it down, then turned to face the second as it landed near by.
The voices were gone then, vanishing as quickly as they had come. Pennindar looked up, drawing his sword from its sheath and turning to the shrieking of another as it leapt through the flames, slicing it across the stomach as it landed and watching it fall, burning, onto its chest.
"We'll all burn this way, once enough of them come through," he shouted. "Richard was right..."
He waited, looking around, waiting for the next to jump through. One more came, landing near Richard, then Briomen pointed up and said, in amazement, "Look..."
THe old wizard glanced up, seeing what looked like little flecks of silver floating on the breeze high above them, a large cluster of them, dropping what appeared to be gold glitter down over them and their adversaries.
"What the...?"
"Faeries," Briomen answered, "But what is their intent? They never come out of hiding like this..."