Maruc could do no more for the present for his poisoned comrades. He gathered his shield and flail and descended into the main hall and joined Feldard and Stephan. At least he could lend a supporting arm in a tight spot and he had spent his healing. He looked over to Hasan, who was looking much better. Maruc offered a brief prayer of thanks and protection to Blessed Halav and turned to Stephan.

“Death chant eh? Oh goodie, it seems they’re getting the idea.” he said dryly. “Haven’t they got the message yet? To my count they are beating us in the mortalities. But that’s why they need to psych themselves up I guess. They’ll probably make some grand gesture like try to burn the place down.” he added with a grin.

Miklos’s eyes felt sore and gritty. He wished he could close them. This was more frustrating than a whole crowd of Goblins jumping up and down on him. The itch he had discovered some time ago was adding to his misery, that, and the knot in the carpet in the small of his back. Maruc, the least he could have done was lay him on a bed. He tried to switch off, lose himself mentally. He started recanting the fifty symbols of elemental control he followed this with Mordensky’s theory of Minor Levitation and its uses in potion production. Time ticked by impossibility slowly…

The eastern noise puzzled Hasan. “Unusual, Feldard, don’t you think? They have attached this door every time. Well, if they will present yet another feint, maybe this will hold them just a bit.” The elf approached the battered door and carefully outlined the doorway with his hands. Focusing intently, he began to speak in a lilting, gauzy voice. He pulled his hands together; the apparently gentle clap made an outsized bang. Hasan then collapsed a bit and shrugged. “I don’t know if the spell worked. I guess we’ll see. The magic may not hold a portal as battered as this.” And then the elf went carefully upstairs to watch the eastern wood.

Feldard didn’t comment back regarding the ‘death chant’ – it was all meant to instill fear, and Feldard was too pumped to be afraid. He just wanted the damn beasties to attack already…. the wait was annoying!

The dwarf watched with a slight frown as the elf cast magic on the door. Feldard somewhat tolerated magic these days.. from Miklos—the man had proven himself to the dwarf through their journeys. But to see others doing it still made the dwarf wary. He moved a bit away and took up his waiting position further from the door.

He hoped the magic wouldn’t hold the door long. He was already on edge, eager to get back into the fray and show the goblins that nothing—not even near death—would keep him from slaying each and every one of them. His leg vibrated under his armour in anticipation.. and his grip on his axe was tight. Soon…

Irina did not try to keep Stephan or the others that now bore significant wounds from readying for battle.

Stephan positioned himself to have a clear arrow shot when the attack began. He checked his leather armor fittings, tightening two of the ties. Gathering what arrows he could, he ensured his quiver was secure and stretched his arm so it would be limber for reaching arrows.

The chanting suddenly stopped, and the clearing was quickly overrun with the creatures as they charged the tower. The main contingent consisted of what looked to be about thirty goblins. All Red Blade. They carried with them five crude ladders.

A separate group of about a dozen raced over the remains of the burnt palisade, charging toward the door.

Miklos was halfway through Traditional Bylaws in governance protocols as it pertains to daemonolgy and summoned spirits when the itch behind his ear got too much and he scratched it. He put his arm down and laid there for a few moments. He frowned trying to remember law 14b iiiv. He got up and went to his spell book and flicked through it. Aha! there it was. Gods his back ached. He frowned again as the sounds of fighting filtered up from below. Were the students revolting again?

He went to the window and stared at the young man frantically firing a longbow in a concerted attempt to use up his supply of arrows as quickly as possible.

That’s a bit harsh for students, thought Miklos absently.

Then he remembered. The bats. The poison.

He opened his spellbook and glancing at the horde approaching started chanting straight from his book.



Filed under D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, rpg

6 responses to “Charge!

  1. Maruc: 10xp+10xp
    Miklos: 10xp+10xp+10xp
    Feldard: 10xp+10xp
    Hasan: 10xp+10xp
    Stephan: 10xp+5xp

    Maruc: 17,795/24000
    Miklos: 17,890/20000
    Feldard: 17,920/34000
    Hasan: 17,215/32000
    Stephan: 16,780/32000

  2. Feldard

    “Ladders!” called out Matvey in warning as he fired off another arrow at the encroaching goblin invaders.

    Feldard cussed at hearing the boys shrill warning. He glanced about quickly determining who could be spared. “Hasan, go assist Stephan, Pyotr and Taras in keeping the tower battlements secure. We will be lost if they take the tower from above. The boy and the women can remain in the bed chamber continuing to provide archery cover. Stellios if you can wield a blade, remain here with Maruc and I – help guard the tower door, otherwise go assist the archers.”

    With the charge on… Feldard began his own bellowed out singing, a dwarven tune meant to inspire everyone to battle with dwarven ferocity. He stood alongside Maruc, waiting with axe in hand, for the magically held door to fail under the goblin onslaught. He and his companions would prevail – of that he had no doubt.

  3. Maruc

    Maruc grinned blightly at the scowling dwarf. “I’m getting a curious feeling of ‘deja-vu’here. Try not to get yourself killed my friend, ‘Hacked to pieces by a fifteen foot Bone Golem’ is something to put on a headstone not ‘Stabbed by Brogg the Goblin cesspit-licker.’ Maruc slowly winked as he waited for the magic on the door to fail.

  4. miklosdostevar

    Mage wrought words tumbled in quick succession as Miklos tried to hold the power of more magic in his already tired mind. Goblins. One would have thought they’d have given up by now. His dry eyes blinked back the residual grit and his head span with the aftereffects of the poison. If the words were less familiar this task would be impossible.

    ‘Its not the words themselves that are important,’ his lecturer on runes had said, ‘but it is utterance that forces the mind to become a funnel or focus for residual magic to collect different spell affect its ‘shape’ and ‘type’ which is why and unpracticed mind can only hold so much. Can you imagine how much power you need to control to force a gateway between worlds?’

    Right now he could. The sigils infront of him blurred as he fought to control the poison, the growing headache and the twisting focus of his spell. The yelling of the boy next to him wasn’t helping.

    Miklos eventually recited the last word. The spell teetered and whobbled bearly under his command. The haze of pain threatened to undo his work. There was no finess. He elbowed the boy away from the arrowslit and with an explosion of effort he unloaded the sleep incantation at the crowd of chargrined goblins that were somehow repulsed by a doorway that was essentially a table.

    Miklos slumped back out of the way of the arrowslit. There was a jug of water on the bedside table. He drank some and splashed the rest on his face. Refreshened he looked up and he frowned. He swore he saw a goblin climb past, upwards. Crossing to the arrowslit he looked closer. A ladder, then a goblins head, then a goblin scimitar jabbed through the hole forcing Miklos to step back stand on his robe and collapse on the floor. Cursing he picked himself up and fumbled around for his staff. Fortunately he had left it behind in here when he had run from the bat. Grimacing he took up the staff rammed it through the arrow slit at the surprised goblin. But he was aiming at the goblin. The staff wedged against the bound corner of a rung and with all the force he could muster he began to push the ladder outwards. The frantic goblin slashed his scimitar against the seasoned oak of the staff. Beads of sweat sprung from the mage as the weight of the goblins kept the ladder against the tower he wondered the gobling would whittle his staff to nothing before the ladder started to move. A disturbing crack came from his complaining staff. He was pushing a full tilt and he knew he wasn’t going to shift it when suddenly the staff shot forward.

    Mikos thought his staff had finally snapped. Then he heard the cries of flailing goblins. He sank to the floor again exhasted.

    Pyotr winked at him as he darted for the stairwell. “You looked like you needed a hand.” he laughed. Then he vanished up to the battlements.

    “Thanks.” Miklos said staring at the hacked remains of his staff.

  5. Stephan

    Stephan found himself bounding up the tower stairs before Matvey shouted “ladders” a second time. Pyotr, though severely wounded, was behind him.

    As he reached the top, Stephan was a bit startled to not see his older brother right behind. But the visage before him instantly consumed his full attention.

    Taras lay clutching his shoulder where a lucky goblin arrow had found it’s mark. For the moment, he was safe behind the battlements.

    Hasan was deftly loosing arrows and taking cover between shots. “Don’t poke your head over. They’re covering for the ladders.”

    Stephan could see the ladders tilting toward the tower with a few goblins already part way up as their mates below strained to leverage the ladders against the tower. He took aim, along with Hasan, at the ladders.

    “I’ll take the one on the left.”

    “The right for me then.”

    “And I’ll join you brother, at the left. I’ll shoot lower.” Stephan was pleased to see Pyotr crouching at his side.

    On Hasan’s mark, the three loosed arrows at the teetering goblins. Two struck their mark sending squealing goblins plummeting to the ground below.

    Taras, having dealt with what turned out to be a slight wound. Joined them for the next volley…

  6. Hasan

    Hasan loosed another arrow, but lost its flight in the mass of frenzied activity below. The goblins were making significant progress, despite the four archers’ best efforts to slow their approach. While a handful of goblins had been cut down or fallen from their precarious perches atop the ladders, more than two dozen still pressed the attack.
    Boom! A ladder finally dropped onto the crenellated towertop. Two goblins leaped onto the platform, their diminutive stature belied by the enormity of their accompanying odors of fury, liquor and sweat. One slashed at Hasan before the elf could put down his bow. Agh! The elf’s wrist throbbed, but the damage was modest. A ferocious thrust of Stefan’s longsword extinguished the threat. Pyotr faced a cagier opponent, who produced a small leather buckler and promptly deflected two of the human’s sword slashes.
    Clever Taras strained at the ladder top, pushing with all the strength of his slim frame. His efforts produced no result at first, but as two goblins ascended the ladder, leverage changed to the boy’s advantage. With a final heave, the ladder had been dislodged.
    Thump! A second ladder landed. Fortune smiled at the goblins. This ladder landed squarely between two battlements. It would not be pushed off so easily. Two more goblins leaped onto the platform 30 feet above their seething brethren below.
    But Hasan saw an opportunity. Two more ladders had been pushed close together, with their tops now nearly touching as the goblins angled them toward the narrow tower. The elf turned away from the melee above and focused his energies on gathering into physical threads the magical energies that surrounded him night and day. The long night slowed his progress on the difficult spell. He meant to ensnare the two ladders in the sticky threads. He trusted that the goblins below would not be able to control the awkward machine he would create for them. He trusted that his newfound human brothers in arms would protect his back while he cast the spell.

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