Part Two: Massacre at Little Stone Peak

The smell of sausages, eggs and potatoes soaked in local herbs awakens the heroes from their warm beds in Sterling’s Tavern. One by one, and all eagerly, they fill the common room and partake in what is typically known as a Mijaen Farmer’s Breakfast.

“Where is your big friend?” asks the barmaid Janelle, thinking wistfully of the bearded barbarian she has espied last night… as she recalled he wasn’t wearing much, but it was pleasurable to see.

“Ohh, he’s out herding sheep. I was wondering, you look familiar, do you have any Giltarese in you?” answered Prem. He smiled up at her and tried not to stare at her firm round bosoms.

“Um… No. I don’t think so,” she replied.

“Would you like some?” Prem smirked, flashing her a suggestive wink.

She seemed aghast at the lewdness of it and tried to smack him with a wet dishrag, but struck Valto instead. A muscular fellow at a different table with a slight green tinge to his skin laughed at his discomfort.

“You’ll be the end of me yet, Prem!” exclaimed Valto, wiping his face with his sleeve.

“I hear you all are heading to the Dark Forest. Can I come too?” asked the muscular fellow. “My name is Kross. People call me Kross the Impatient.”

Prem narrowed his eyes at him as if sizing him up. “Sure, what the heck! You look like you’d be handy in a fight.”

The door to the inn swung open and a short stocky man entered wearing a brown hood. Caedo made a snide joke about the man looking like he was half dwarf. He seemed to hear her and approached them.

“Hullo! I heard about the offer Kerish gave y’all last night. I am here to sign up. I’ve been inside the Dark Forest many times and if that is where y’all be heading I can help. All I ask for is an equal share of any treasure we find. How does that sound to y’all?”

Prem had had enough of hooded figures waltzing in here and demanding to join them. “This is what I think!” shouted Prem as he shoved his hand in the man’s face and pushed him back. “Come back with a note of introduction from Kerish Enn.” The man is astonished and scurries from the inn, angrily slamming the door shut behind him. “Now where were we?” asks Prem.

Hecht and Valto both gave Prem an angry look. “We could use a guide!” protested Hecht.

“He seems suspicious and I don’t like strangers” Prem retorted. Lazeurus and Caedo agreed.

Valto shook his head and went outside with Hecht to see if they could find the man. They spot him walking north away from the town and chase after him.

“Sorry for the rude behavior of our friend,” shouts Hecht, managing to flag him down. “I’m Hecht and this is Valto, who are you?”

“Killiam Tharg, guide and scout at your service.”

“How long have you lived in the area, what do you know of the going on’s in the Dark Forest?” asked Hecht.

“I’ve lived in Tillitsville for almost 4 years. Kerish Enn knows me. As for the Dark Forest, I’ve heard and seen many strange goings on. I done spotted a group of these strange things wearing red robes and hoods at Little Stone Peak. I can lead you there.” replies Killiam. “Y’all got horses?”

“We do indeed and we are ready to ride” replies Valto.

“Let us be off then,” said Killiam and return to join the group. The various warriors sharpened their blades. The mages and priests memorized or prayed for the power that will fuel their incantations. And Caedo? She tried really hard not to pick anyone’s pockets. The group mounted their horses and rode off.

Prem kept an eye on their guide Killiam the entire time, not trusting him one bit and itching for a fight. Thankfully the tracks left by Wrathgar and Ghostar were easy to follow, begging the question why they even needed a guide.

“Looks like we’ve found their trail!" exclaimed Killiam, claiming the success as his own but Prem knew better.

Something was bothering the half ling however and she edged close to the others to whisper. “I feel like we’re being watched!”

To the group’s relief however it was just Ghostar and Wrathgar. The pair of them were waiting for the group up ahead, hidden behind a few trees, with bows at the ready. They stepped out, exchanged greetings and then pointed at the trail.

Wind during the night had covered up the tracks and the blood was nowhere to be seen.

“Not to worry y’all!” proclaimed Killiam. “I can lead you all to Little Stone Peak. It ain’t no more than an hour’s ride away as the Great Wurm soars.”

Prem motioned to Ghostar and Wrathgar and whispered his concerns that he didn’t trust the guide. The two archers nodded in understanding, exchanging looks of concern.

“I have to reset my traps on the way, won’t take me more than two minutes,” Killiam a moment later. Fifteen minutes later Killiam called for a halt and disappear for a few minutes and then re-emerge from the twisted and thick undergrowth of the Dark Forest.

Later Killiam stopped again saying he needed to reset another snare.

“I’ll come with you” said Ghostar and Killiam merely shrugged. They found a snare that looked like it had been there for ages and Killiam carefully reset it. Killiam then reached into his quiver and took a red shafted arrow and thrust it into the nearest tree as if marking it for future reference. Ghostar feigned ignorance. “Lets be off,” declared Killiam and they headed back to rejoin the group.

The party came to a well worn trail and followed it to the edge of a large clearing. Across the way they could see animal tracks dotting the snow and a massive boulder in the middle. “There it is, Little Stone Peak…” declared Killiam, seemingly proud of his ability to lead them to a rock. Motioning the party to stay put Killiam scampered out into the clearing, looking to either side. He climbed up on top of the boulder with a bit of difficulty and then put both hands to his mouth as he shouted “Its all clear!”

“Damn fool!” snapped Wrathgar. “Now everyone for miles around knows we are here!”

“I think that’s the point” replied Caedo with a sour smile, drawing her weapons. The others followed suit.

“I’ll go climb the boulder and see if I can see anything from there,” said Ghostar, moving towards it. “I’ll go with him!” piped Caedo in quick pursuit.

Valto, Hecht and Lazeurus decided to hide in the eastern side of the woods and stick together while Wrathgar muttered something about going west before he melted into the forest

“I’ll watch the horses,” offered Kross. He didn’t seem very impatient to run into what was likely a trap… Prem stayed with him, keeping an eye on Killiam, noting how the man seemed to be waiting for something.

Ghostar made it to the large boulder and climbed up with ease, then bent over and gave wee Caedo a helping hand. The clearing was fairly silent. Only the distant cawing of the one-legged Kirpa could be heard, a bird that was said to foretell death. Ghostar scanned the quiet serene surroundings and had a feeling of impending danger… It was too quiet.

Prem sensed it too and lost his temper. He mounted his horse and spurred it into the clearing, drawing his flail and heading straight for Killiam. His horse thundered across the fresh snow, bearing down on the woodsman, but at the last moment he dodged to the side, unslung his bow and shouted “Bre ya mark!”

Killiam nocked an arrow and shot wildly at Prem’s exposed back. It missed thankfully.

To the west Wrathgar uttered a prayer to Mistle as he watched crudely constructed spears painted red fly from the thickest parts of the Dark Forest. The sound of whooping war cries could be heard, speaking in the gibberish tongue of goblins. Two of the spears came flying at Wrathgar but they were nowhere near the mark. In the distance he could see his comrades were so far unharmed and were hustling into action. He could hear the distant twang of bow strings as Ghostar and Caedo shot at targets only they could see.

The barbarian ran northward and as he did so saw a red-skinned goblin wearing a collection of dirty brown and green rags, mixed together with a rusty assortment of armour. It carried spears, but was unprepared as Wrathgar ran by it, his battleaxe severing the goblyn’s larynx as he went. The creature went down grasping its bloody throat and then lay still.

Killiam cried out and howled in rage as Ghostar shot him in the side. Caedo spotted a goblyn in the woods near Valto and promptly shot it in the leg, but the creature struggled onwards with bloodlust in its eyes. Prem meanwhile wheeled his horse around and prepared to charge Killiam once more, spears whistling by him and seeming not to care.

The sounds of battle were all around the clearing. For awhile the group doesn’t seem to be faring very well, many of their swings and arrows kept missing. One of the goblyns was throwing spears at Hecht and Hecht was throwing hammers back at him. Finally one of them managed to find its mark and the goblyn went down with its skull caved in.

Hoping to keep multiple creatures at bay, Wrathgar draws his grosseklinge whilst ducking and rolling under spear attacks. One of them tried to sneak up behind him but he spun and lopped off its head as it drew near. He finishes off a third goblyn with a single swipe that chops the creature clean in half and then runs to help his friends.

Meanwhile Valto hears something in the woods and recognizes where some of the spears are coming from in the brush. He draws forth a small handful of sand and for a moment chants what sounds like a child’s lullaby. The sand pours forth and a moment later two thuds are heard in the bushes accompanied by snoring. He smiles and draws forth two daggers, intent on making sure they never dream again.

Prem spurs his horse towards Killiam, his flail raised up high for the kill. The woodsman looks desperate and looses a wild shot that goes errant. Luckly for him Prem’s flail misses as Killiam deftly rolls out of the way as his horse continues onwards. Killiam laughs and reaches for another arrow… but then feels a sharp pain in the back of his head and his left eyeball pops outwards, Ghostar’s arrow protruding from his eye socket.

“Great Galfacks tits!” cries Caedo, her own shot at a goblyn deflected by a tree branch.

Kross shouts a war cry and runs through the forest to support Lazeurus and Hecht, but unfortunately for him a goblyn lies in wait for him. The goblyn whispers a prayer to the goblyn god known as Kraag the Foul and then hurls his spear deep into Kross’ side. It guts him and the warrior goes down, his life blood thick on the fallen snow.

Happy to see Killiam is dead, but enraged at the madness of it all Prem dismounts from his horse and runs towards the goblyn that has slain Kross. A spear from the side catches him in the back and he screams in pain, joining Kross in a growing pool of blood.

Lazeurus finished gutting a goblyn with his two-handed sword and then ran to Prem. He knew Kross was dead, but Prem was still twitching and therefore must still be alive. If he could get to him fast enough he might be able to staunch the blood and bind his wounds. He got to Prem’s side, but didn’t notice the goblyn sneaking up behind him…

The goblyn stabbed the elf in the back and he fell into unconsciousness. His last thoughts were a prayer that Ghostar might avenge him.

Meanwhile Valto realized he was outnumbered and alone and ran from the woods towards the boulder with goblyns in hot pursuit. A spear whistled by him, but his dagger was bloody from finishing off two goblyns. He just hoped he lived to tell the tale…

Further to the south Hecht was also backpedaling into the clearing. More goblyns were pouring from their hiding places in the woods, whooping war cries and shouting the name of Kraag the Foul. The battle was certainly theirs for the taking and victory was well in hand.

Caedo tried to shoot one of the goblyn’s chasing Hecht, but shot her comrade in the shoulder instead. Ghostar meanwhile showed her how it was done properly and shot a goblyn in the neck, taking it down. A moment later Ghostar shot again, killing another goblyn. Caedo hit her mark too, but the goblyn merely cursed back at her. A third volley and Caedo finished off the goblyn whilst Ghostar killed another.

Wrathgar arrived at the scene, running past the fleeing Hecht and slaying the goblyn who had been chasing the beleaguered half-elf.

A single goblyn remained in the clearing. No more could be seen. It shrieked and ran into the forest. Ghostar leapt off the boulder and gave pursuit. It took awhile but he managed to gain some distance on the short legged goblyn and shot an arrow in its back, satisfied with the accompanying thud as it hit the ground.

Back in the clearing Wrathgar and Valto were tending to the wounds of their comrades, doing their best to save their lives. Hecht calmed down and prayed to his god to heal them, but even his best prayers left Lazeurus still unconscious and Prem hovering near the abyss.

Bored with these matters Caedo went over to inspect Killiam’s body. After rifling through his belongings she found a note written in fine Mijaen calligraphy. “Over here!” she cried. Valto came over to help read it.

Take care of my dear friends I am sure you know what I mean… - Alleron

Wrathgar built stretchers for the wounded and tied them behind several horses. Ghostar and Caedo gathered up arrows while Hecht retrieved his hammers, and Valto his daggers. They were weary and feeling exposed out here in the harsh wilderness, overwhelmed by the obvious dangers of the Dark Forest but not yet realizing its full potential. They made haste to return to Tillitsville and inform the good people there of the nefarious happenings so close to their doorstep.

The Massacre at Little Stone Peak was a victory, but a sour one. Their new comrade Kross was dead, having only joined them today. With their previous night’s misadventures the group felt strangely cursed, wondering what awful fate the future held.

From across the clearing a coward watched. His name was Uglug and he was the only goblyn to survive of the massacre. He crept into the woods and hastened to the south. He had to report back to his chieftain and hope he wasn’t slain for reporting such bad news. No, he thought. Better to prey on the chieftain’s hatred of humans instead… maybe he could convince the chieftain to setup patrols or war bands to hunt the humans. Maybe Uglug could lead one of those war bands… He smiled mischievously to himself and practiced what he would say…

In the distance a Kirpa cawed.