Part Four: The Brakken River

It bothered Wrathgar that Caedo evidently could not be trusted to stand on watch alone. But what could they do? With Lazeurus still wounded and resting back in the tavern and Hecht gone back to Tillitsville there was only himself, Caedo, Ghostar and Prem. And frankly Prem was such a wild card (perhaps something to do with that foul smelling leaf he kept sniffing) the only one in the group the barbarian truly trusted with his life was Ghostar.

The group sat in angry silence, eating a cold breakfast. Afterwards Wrathgar whittled a few arrow shafts while Prem did his morning prayers in private. Who he worshipped none could say, for he was very secretive about the matter. For a supposed priest Wrathgar’s impression of Prem had not improved much since they had first met in the tavern. He could be courageous one minute and paralyzed with fear the next, it did not bode well when combat turned deadly.

Gathering their things they trudged on for about two hours, the sound of the Brak Stream coming closer. According to the map it was a tributary to the River Brakken… but right now it wasn’t so much a river as a giant sheet of ice. The group paused, looking for a safe spot to cross the ice.

In the distance a raven cawed. It seemed to be mocking their inability to fly over the obstacle.

The barbarian snapped a large branch off a nearby tree and began prodding the ice to see how thick it was. Ghostar volunteered to go across first; confident his light weight would not break the ice. He did so quickly by darting across and true to his word he made it safely.

Wee Caedo went next, but in a childish twist she decided to jump on her small shield and sledded most of the way across, dragging a rope behind her. She skipped up the bank on the far side and waved back at the remaining two.

Wrathgar tossed a stick to the far side and the wolfhound ran across to fetch it, paws scrambling on the ice but making it safely to the other side. He then picked up the opposite end of Caedo’s rope and tied it to a second rope Prem offered him. Prem then held on this end of the rope whilst Caedo and Ghostar held the other side, thus forming a group effort to get the heavy barbarian across the river. It was all a wise precaution too, for halfway across the river the ice gave way beneath him and Wrathgar plunged into the freezing water below. Using the rope he pulled himself out and made it across, where he promptly started building a fire.

Prem meanwhile wasn’t taking any chances. He took several minutes to strip off his armour and place it all in a sack which he then tied to the rope. Then leaving the sack there on the far bank he made his way across, plunging through the ice briefly but otherwise making it across without further incident. He then towed his sack across the river with the rope and re-armoured himself while drying off by the fire.

High above the raven cawed one last time and flew off into the forest.

It took about an hour for the garments to fully dry and during this time Ghostar scouted around their temporary campsite to make sure there wasn’t any goblyns nearby. He found no signs of goblyn activity and breathed a sigh of relief.

The party resumed their trek with Wrathgar and Caedo in the lead, followed by Prem and Ghostar guarding their rear. A thundering sound up ahead caught their attention and they hid behind a large tree, weapons at the ready, as the sound drew closer.

Ignoring the rest of the party however Prem decided to drop down on the opposite side of the path and began crawling through the brush, trying to spot the source of the noise as it came closer and closer.

As it drew closer the sound of clattering cloven hooves and brushing antlers rang familiar to Wrathgar and he breathed a sigh of relief as a herd of deer pounded and leapt through the underbrush, racing past the group. Prem was promptly trampled on, but thankfully it was just a welt on his buttocks.

Relief flooded over the group, but it was short lived as the howling and snarling of wolves drew closer. Prem looked up for his position to see the snarling fangs of a wolf coming towards him, dripping with gooey saliva and deer blood from a recent kill. It was larger than any dog he had ever seen and its eyes were an unnatural red colour.

Wrathgar shouted at the beast and readied his grosseklinge. The wolf jumped clear over Prem and lunged at the barbarian who was waiting for it, and slashed the beast across the chest as it landed in front of him, teeth managing to snare a bit of his thigh.

Wounded though the wolf was it didn’t even acknowledge the pain. Caedo panicked and began climbing the tree she was hiding behind. Ghostar nocked an arrow and tried to find the opportunity to shoot without hitting Wrathgar. Prem didn’t wait. He rolled to his feet, flail rising and falling but it only brushed against the wolf’s thick fur.

From behind the barbarian a low growl came from the underbrush and it charged at his backside. Fortunately Wrathgar newfound canine companion leapt to his defense, snarling and barking at the much larger wolf. The wolf didn’t hesitate to pounce on the smaller dog and bit a chunk out of his back.

Ghostar shot the lead wolf in the side, whilst from up in the tree Caedo did the same and nearly hit Wrathgar with her miscalculated shot. In the confusion the wolf leapt up at Wrathgar but fell backwards when the barbarian parried its attack easily. Shouting something inarticulate Prem leapt over the prone beast and smashed its skull in with his flail.

Barely looking to see if the beast was dead Wrathgar spun about to face the second wolf behind him. What he wasn’t counting on was Caedo firing arrows haphazardly into combat and planting one neatly in the barbarian’s chest. He cursed at Caedo, stumbled and went to one knee as he pulled the arrow from his chest, the wolf bearing down on him.

Ghostar shot the remaining wolf, a distraction at best, for it turned towards Ghostar and began to charge. The distraction gave Prem time to say a prayer to his secret god and laid a healing hand on Wrathgar’s shoulder causing the wound in his chest to partially heal over. Feeling his stamina return the barbarian surged to his feet. For Ghostar however it was a mixed blessing as the wolf pounced on him and ripped a chunk out of his stomach. Blood sputtered from his mouth as he lay there bleeding to death.

Caedo shot at the wolf and missed. She cursed her luck and reached for her new shortsword. Wrathgar charged at the wolf and slashed it across its midsection with the grosseklinge. He kept the beast busy while Prem began another prayer to his secret god, this time to save Ghostar’s life. From high above a strange sound was heard as the halfling leapt through the air and came down atop the wolf with her shortsword, using her weight and momentum to drive the sword high in the back of the beast, near its neck.

There was an audible snap as its neck broke and the creature collapsed to the ground dead.

Wrathgar tended to his faithful canine’s wounds, binding them with rags. He and Prem promptly built a small fire and a bit of a lean-to shelter against the large tree. They needed to rest and recuperate and both Prem and Ghostar had no spells left should they run into more danger. The barbarian skinned the wolves and cooked the meat… They set watches during the night, this time Wrathgar was careful to sleep lightly while Caedo was on watch… worried she might neglect to wake them should danger appear.

The night went peacefully and in the morning they heard the distant cry of a creature speaking in the goblyn tongue. It seemed to be calling for someone. “Cello, Kallo, come here boys, where are you?” the goblyn kept repeating.

Ghostar went to scout it out and spotted the red-skinned creature from a distance. Unfortunately he stepped on a twig, alerting the goblyn to his presence. It readied a spear painted red and decorated with black feathers and snarled at the woods.

Knowing his chance to surprise the creature was now gone Ghostar motioned the others to be quiet and then walked forward speaking in the goblyn tongue, revealing himself and trying to calm it down. Wrathgar and Caedo both saw the opportunity however and started firing arrows at the creature.

The goblyn panicked and stabbed at Ghostar with his red spear, but the elf deftly dodged it. Not wanting to accidentally shoot Ghostar with arrows the halfling and the barbarian charged forward, the former ducking behind the goblyn and grappling it from behind while the huge barbarian raised his grosseklinge in the air and prepared to decapitate the hapless creature.

“You fools!” Prem grumbled from his hiding spot.

“Stop let’s talk to it!” Ghostar yelled, but in response the creature only spat in his face.

“The Red Arrows find you and kill you!” shrieked the goblyn, noticing Wrathgar’s new wolfskin cloaks. “You barbaric animal, me raise them as pups!”

Wrathgar laughed and rubbed his belly. He grunted out the word “Breakfast!” in the goblyn tongue.

“Wait!” said Ghostar. “Don’t worry about him, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” shrieked the goblyn. “New friends?”

“Yes,” said Caedo leaping on this opportunity. “Allies. We are with the group that has the priestess.”

“What priestess?” said the confused goblyn.

Caedo ignored his protests. “Where are other friends? Where did they go?”

“Up north, we Red Arrows don’t see them much. If you friends, why you no let me go?”

Caedo responded by releasing her hold on the hapless goblyn. He picked up his spear and backed cautiously away.

“Wait, don’t go. We’re sorry about killing your wolves,” said Ghostar, taking out five golden crowns. “Please take this gold as a sign of friendship.”

Greed got the better of the creature and it snatched the gold from Ghostar’s hand and then sprinted away, shrieking something in the goblyn tongue.

“Nice try!” muttered Wrathgar as he and Caedo simultaneously drew back their bows and launched a volley of arrows at the goblyn, both missing. Ghostar shrugged and did the same, but his arrow hit the goblyn squarely in the back. It tumbled to ground and lay there bleeding to death.

The barbarian strode forward and beheaded the creature with his grosseklinge. As he did so he noticed a small silver signal whistle attached to a chain around its neck. He snatched it up and stuck it in his pocket for later.

A moment later they heard a strange ulating cry to the north, followed by a second to the east. As they discussed what to do another cry was heard from the west. “They can find our tracks,” grumbled Wrathgar as they started heading south at a swift pace.

“One doesn’t have to be the fastest in the village in order to outrun a dragon, just faster than the closest villager,” panted Prem, reciting an ancient proverb from his homeland of Giltar. He started sprinting ahead of them.

Soon they were all running. “Lets cross the Brak,” yelled Caedo, referring to the stream they had crossed.

“Head west along the riverbank!” shouted Wrathgar.

Ghostar grumbled something about just climbing a tree and hiding. They reached the Brak stream and they could hear the shouts of countless goblyns behind them. Ghostar paused by the riverbank and was tempted to climb a nearby tree, but then heard the howls of wolves and realized they would sniff him out. He raced after them shouting “Wait for me!”

“Fat chance!” Prem shouted back at him, running south along the riverbank where Wrathgar was looking for a more secure spot to cross.

Two hundred yards south Wrathgar spotted a section of ice that looked safer. He promptly picked up a stick and threw it across the river for the dog to chase. The group of them chased after the dog, trying to keep their distance from each other so their combined weight didn’t crack the ice. The barbarian made it two-thirds of the way across when the ice cracked beneath the dog and he paused to reach over to grab the wolfhound by the scruff of its neck. He slipped briefly on the ice, but managed to pull the dog out of the freezing water.

Ghostar paused part way across and spun around drawing Skullcleaver. The wolves were hot on his tail, followed by a pair of goblyns. He slashed at the ice beneath him with the blade, causing a large crack to appear. He slashed again and it snaked across the ice all the way to the far side of the riverbank. There was a rumbling sound and an earth shattering cracking noise as the ice split and the wolves directly in front of Ghostar tumbled into the water and broken ice. Several of the goblyns chasing him fell in too, others on the far bank suddenly changed their minds about wanting to cross the river.

On the western bank Wrathgar spun and drew his composite longbow. Prem and Caedo were also across the river, but while Caedo copied Wrathgar’s action Prem kept running to the west. They launched several volleys of arrows, killing a few, but it worked well enough to discourage the remaining goblyns who turned back and began hiding in the trees on the eastern bank.

Ghostar fell back and then slashed again at the ice with Skullcleaver, creating a second large crack through the ice. The goblyns would have to waste time going north or south finding a safe place to cross. Finally on the western bank Ghostar sheathed the sword and drew out his bow, shooting one of the goblyns who was trapped on an ice floe in the middle, hoping to jump to safer patch of ice.

The three archers kept up their missile fire for awhile, but the goblyn spears were clearly outmatched for distance. A goblyn voice shouted and finally the goblyns retreated into the woods where their commander waited. Uglug spat at them, knowing the chieftain would be angry at his second failure. They had lost three or four wolves and half a dozen goblyns, with not so much as a human scalp to show for it. He would have to report back to his master with more bad news…