This is the story of the Friday Night Lights campaign, as told through the eyes of the Mountain Dwarf Fighter, Khodrin Emberhelm. This also means that if Khodrin doesn’t see (or hear, sense, smell) something happening, he doesn’t “experience” it.
After trudging trough the southern part of Silver Oak Forest, heading out from Athlin, I entered a large plain of green rolling hills, covered in various, low vegetation. The mid-day sun shone down, and I found myself wiping sweat off of my forehead more than often. After telling a fellow smith at Amduhr’s Armory, in Athlin, about my plans to leave, she drew me a rough map to follow. Though the map had barely any detail to it, I could clearly see the two mountain ranges; Zenils and Treols Mountains. Together, these two mountain ranges created a natural border to the east. Eastward, the promise of new land, maybe a place to settle? Maybe even find fellow Dwarves and herd some pigs, maybe grow some hops, brew my own ale. I was more or less lost in my thoughts, walking through the green meadows, up one hill, down the next. The land was unchanging, yet each hill felt new, different sights were available at each top. From the look of the map, it seemed a river drove a pass between the Zenils and the Treols Mountains, if I could find somewhere to cross the river, the Treols Mountains would serve as watch-point towards the next part of my journey.
In the distance, to the east, I could see the mountains rising. Without those blasted trees, I should be able to follow the foot of the mountains to the pass down south. As if drawn to them, I began to walk more in a south-eastern direction. Sitting myself down on a high hilltop, I enjoyed a light lunch, a hump of bread and a few gulps of water, while surveying the area. I was still far from the mountains, I reckon I was half a day’s march from reaching them. From the map, I should be arriving at the pass in roughly three days of walking. Packing the remaining food and the waterskin into my backpack once more, I flung the pack on my back once more, to the rattle of the chain mail. My warhammer was already sitting in my belt, a brass ring made the hammer easy to grab and place back by my hip. As the last thing to do, I picked up my shield, placing it back on my left arm, as my fingers locked on the bar, I cocked a small smile, it was a well-made piece of equipment, balanced, but sturdy. I had yet the need for it, but just having it felt good; it felt safer. Not that there was much to feel unsafe about. I had not seen any signs of danger, barely any life at all, since leaving Athlin. I did spot a couple of rabbits early on in the meadows, but before I could ready and aim my crossbow for a shot, the little buggers were already long gone. I could have set up the trap, that was tucked in somewhere in the backpack, but in the end, I decided it to be more of a distraction. And I wasn’t short on food at all, several lumps of bread, each one wrapped neatly at the top of pack, that would last me at least ten days, maybe even more.
As I descended the hill, careful not to fall forwards and tumble down, a gentle breeze from the east reached my nostrils. There where two smells; the fresh, sharp scent of frost, likely from the mountains, a scent I hadn’t smelled in years, along with something more familiar; the smell of wood burning at a fireplace. As I had seen no trees, thankfully, that led me to thinking “There’s someone nearby, someone civlized enough to make a fire, perhaps I could make halt for the night in company of people.” This was, of course, a rather risky decision, it could very easily turn out to be a band of bandits, marauders or another dastardly, non-friendly group. To my luck, a few hills nearby were a relatively amount higher, excellent vantage points to scout from. And in case things should go awry, easy to defend. This hill semed steeper than the last, but the view made the climb a trip worth it’s while; a small farmstead with surrounding fields, a calm, grey pillar of smoke rose from the cobblestone chimney, right in the middle of a thatched roof. My spirits rose, perhaps I could even stay the night indoors. Last time I slept outdoors, I woke up with a thistle stuck in my beard, took some precarious grooming to get it out, without damaging too many hairs.
I started walking towards the building, I couldn’t see any windows, but in case someone should see me, they probably would not consider a lone Dwarf as a threat. Reaching the house from the back side, I let the fingers on my right hand slide across the cobblestones, making up the walls. Of course, it wasn’t Dwarven mason work, but it felt pretty sturdy, despite the fact that moss had clutched onto the lower stones. The door frame was a little crooked, the stones on the left side seemed to bend the wood ever so slightly. Breathing in, slow and deep into my lungs, I lifted my right hand, and knocked a couple of times on the wood. The door was only a couple of planks, fitted together with a board and some nails, it worked, but anyone who wished to enter, wouldn’t have to use much force to break it down. I stepped back a few steps, it could seem rather intimidating, opening a door, having a warrior fully clad in chain mail as the first sight. Opening up outwards slightly, with a creak as planks grinded against the crooked frame, a human woman looked out. She seemed to study me thoroughly, before asking “Can I help you, master Dwarf?”. Bowing my head in a friendly greeting, I looked back up at the woman, her plain, rough clothing, not exactly ugly-looking appearance, solidified my thought that she was a farmer. The bags under her eyes indicated that she had much to worry about, or that her days were long and hard. There wasn’t much trace of joy in her face, even so, her aura seemed warm and friendly. I spoke up “Well, I’d hate to be bother, I’ve travelled from Athlin up north, heading south and east, I was wondering if I could stay the night here.” While speaking I had unhooked my relatively small coin-purse, holding it in my right hand. “I can pay for my stay if needed. I can also help out, if you need any tools repaired, or any other help.” She looked at the purse in my hand, then directly down at my face. Shaking her head, she opened the door, signalling for me to enter.
Inside was a cozy heat, a large iron pot stood over the fireplace, a stew of some kind, it smelled quite delicious. The woman presented herself as Sylvia, and as she spoke, three children of various age appeared from the back of the house. They all looked in awe at me, the oldest one almost as tall as me. I wasn’t used to children, so I just tried a friendly nod, as I took off my backpack, placing it with a rather loud thump on the beaten clay floor. I pulled the shield off of my arm once more, placed it leaning up against the backpack. As I looked over into the pot, the scent became clear; a classic vegetable soup, easy to make, nutritious and nourishing. Not a glorious meal though, but I was used to meager meals, that had the standard since I left the stronghold, those fifty years ago. Ah, the thought of mead-roasted pig, slices of shepherd’s pie and sweet honey-dipped apples. i could feel a drop of drool form on the edge of my mouth, and wiped it off with the back of my gauntlet, before it got into my beard. Just then a loud clatter made me jump, a hand automatically reaching for the hilt of my warhammer. As I turned around, I saw one of the children having knocked my shield down. Good thing it didn’t hit the child, the iron-fitted edge could probably cause quite a bruise. Sylvia quickly rushed over, she was setting the table up for dinner, to check if the child was hurt. The shock from the shield moving, and the following loudness of metal and wood against hard clay, had turned the child stiff, but aside that, the child was not harmed, at least not from what I could see. Sylvia gave me a look, that I could not quite analyze, “Oh I’m so terribly sorry, please, don’t be angry with him, he’s just a child… You know how they can be.” I was not entirely sure what she meant, but instead, I just shook my head, trying to smile back to her; “No harm done, while it isn’t of Dwarven construct, it’s pretty sturdy, it should be able to survive a small drop like that. Besides,” I said, shrugging my broad shoulders, “If it couldn’t withstand that, it would serve almost no use in combat, now would it?” I’m not sure it helped Sylvia to be calmer, but it seemed to affect the boy in a positive way.
We had just sat down by the table, when an odd sound was heard. Odd, but familiar. The sound, slightly muffled by the thatch, of an arrow sinking into wood. Leaping from my seat, I grabbed and readied my warhammer. I turned to the startled Sylvia; “Do not leave the house! If I don’t return or call for you, you’d better start praying to whatever god you favor!” Hastily I checked the crossbow, ready and sitting well on my back. I hurried through the house, grabbing my shield as I headed for the door. I couldn’t let harm come to my friendly host, but if I were to fall… I shook the thought out of my mind, and opened the door inwards. Perhaps I was too eager or riled up, as I pulled the door, the rusty hinges gave in, and the door almost fell on me. I had barely regained my composure, as a crude arrow whizzed by me. Damn it, this fight could be tougher than I first thought. In the afternoon light, I saw several tall figures, most of them carrying spears, but some in the back stood and took aim at the house. The stench of wet dog hang heavy in the air, along with the smell of arrogance. These attackers did not expect resistance, one of them barked some commands, I could not make out the words, but now one of the figures started lighting a torch. I could attempt a shot with the crossbow, but it would be a very far shot, and I am not exactly a marksman. I had no time to think it through further, as a volley of arrows were fired towards me. One smacked into the door frame, a little above and to the right of my head, another one pinged off of the stonework, a third one into the ground. A fourth arrow was going the right way, but instead of me, the arrow hit one of the metal fittings on my shield, and caused no harm. “Blast! There’s no way I can reach out and stop them, they’re too many… I’ll have to take them one by one,“ Steeling myself behind my shield, I prepared for the next volley as the figures began to close in on the house, bolstering my courage, I yelled out, “WELL, COME ON THEN, YA COWARDLY FURBALLS! I’LL MOP THE FLOOR WITH YE HIDES BEFORE YE GET PAST ME!!!”
I am not sure if it worked, taunting them, or if they actually adapted a strategy, but they seemed unsure how to act. Only for a short moment though, as they now began advancing on my position in the door frame. If I went further out, they would surely surround me; they were already spreading out to flank me. And to clear the line for their archers, I presume. Now that they got close enough, I could see them; horrible, savage dog-men, their teeth looking more nasty than their crude weaponry. None of them seemed to be carrying any armor, not that it mattered much, my hammer would make quick work of any and all types of armor. “Just need to ya get close enough, ye mangy mongrels.” I gritted my teeth as a big brute came charging towards me with his spear. He stopped up shortly, only about ten feet from me, his sand-coloured fur had no markings, other than some old scars. It seemed the other creatures also stopped up, their ears or heads all turned towards a point somewhat behind the house. Did I hear the faint climpering of a lute? “Hmm… This might be good for me, I highly doubt these… things to have much skill into instruments… Well, other than simple battle drums or maybe a war horn.” I couldn’t take advantage of of the creature being distracted, that would only create and opening. Meanwhile, the creature with the torch had managed to get close enough, and hurled the burning torch onto the roof of the house, which caught on fire the instant the torch made impact. As the sound and smell of thatch burning, Sylvia panicked inside the house. The creature in front of me had stopped, he must have realised I couldn’t be surrounded, and there was something about the lute in the distance. Several of the other creatures seemed unsure of what to do as well. A stalemate. Though a damned one at that, the fire was consuming more and more of the roof, slower than expected. I could do nothing to prevent it, and if I did, the creatures would overwhelm me and then the house.
Suddenly a sharp crack was heard and, from behind the house, a clear blue light appeared. There were only a few clouds out, and it had been mostly clear all day, it couldn’t be thunder. As if a natural reaction, I heard the yelp of one of the creatures. Something had attacked and hit one of the creatures, my hopes and courage rose; now things weren’t looking so grim. Which couldn’t be said about the creature in front of me, looming over me, he stabbed his spear at my head, but completely missed, thrusting too high up. As it prepared for another strike, I had started winding my right hand and warhammer back, and flung it forwards in a big swing, whacking the creature in it’s side. The whimpering was almost pitiful, “Yeah, hurts, doesn’t it? Bet ya didn’t expect to face a Dwarf this day, eh?!” I could hear another sound, but couldn’t identify it, shrugging inside of myself; it wasn’t a bother right now, if it became a bother, I could care about it when that time came. What seemed to be bothering the creatures though, was the blue light and the sound of thunder, once again it was followed by the yelp of one of the creatures, and there was a slight scent of burned fur in the air. Right before me, and encasing several of the creatures, the ground turned slimy… Webs? Like some giant spider in the sky had just taken a silky dump on the ground. The creatures all struggled in the sticky mess, unfortunately my attacker was not hit by it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving in fast, as the creatures nearby where halted by the web, it seemed a lot like the person was dancing in between them. The glint of her daggers told that it was no dance at all, but eventually she also got stuck in the web, and as some of the attackers broke free, they started to swarm her. I wanted to help her, but I still had my own foe to care about, and I couldn’t leave the house unguarded. Thankfully the archers seemed to had found different targets. Further away, a tall warrior moved in, swinging a battle-axe in her hands, the distance was too great for me to see if it landed, but hearing no yelp or whimpering, I reckon that it didn’t. In my moment of distraction, I was a little slow to react as my attacker thrusted his spear again, the spear tip punched through my chain mail and into my side. It wasn’t a deep wound, but it still hurt. What hurt more, was the victorious grin on the dog-man’s face, “Think that’s gonna be enough? Clearly, ye haven’t fought my kind before.” I gritted my teeth, it hurt quite a lot in fact, “Allow me to show ya how it’s done, HAAARH!” I swung the warhammer with might and anger, and heard the cracking of bones as the heavy hammer-head struck the dog-man’s chest. The blow shook the creature, but it was still alive. Which was more than what could be said about a lot of the creatures, four had already been slain, and the battle was not turning to their favor. I lifted my warhammer once more, aiming for the wounded creature’s head, and finally the creature had barked up it’s last tree. In the distance I saw the warrior-woman with the battle-axe missing yet another swing, and now another of the dog-men was coming to aid his mate. In an instant, I dropped my shield and warhammer, as none of the creatures seemed to focus on me at the moment, reaching behind my back, i grabbed and readied my crossbow. The steel-tipped bolt was released with a thwak, flying through the air, I held my breath, as if that would affect the shot at all. The bolt started dropping, but managed to strike the one dog-man in his leg, though it didn’t look to stop or halt him.
I was about to ready another bolt, but with no easy targets, and at the risk of hitting a friendly person, I merely kept it at the ready, observing the rest of the battle, as the creatures one by one was deleted from this existence. I now noticed a figure flying high above the confict, several arrows had struck her, and she seemed to be having a rough time. With the last creature slain, I holstered the bolt and placed the crossbow back on my back once more, and picking up my shield and warhammer. There was still a tuft of fur, clotted with dark-red blood stuck to the head of it, but a swift wipe with my gauntlet got most of it off. The aftermath quickly turned from the victorious into the obnoxious, and I’m still not quite sure how to explain it, honestly. From what I could understand this was “normal” behaviour for the group, I decided to not be too friendly at first, especially the Tieflings, as if one wasn’t enough trouble, this group had TWO. Besides, who have ever heard of a flying Dwarf? We can see the blue glow of the moon just fine from the ground, and if height is needed, we’ll climb mountain, that’s just logical, right?
Apparently, Sylvia was the wife, or widow as it would turn out, of a man whom the group met, but who didn’t make it with them. Already shaken up from the attack, she just sobbed and broke down from hearing the news. The group eventually persuaded her, with obnoxious theatrics to distract the children (so the Tiefling claimed) in the background, to pack up and leave for Athlin. The solitude of the farm would make it difficult, well, almost impossible, for help to arrive in time. We were all invited to stay the night, though the one Tiefling, whose name I didn’t catch, and the bard Panrry, who caused the flying, were locked out (after repairing the door) and were to keep watch for the night. I wonder where this group is headed, perhaps I could tag along, if they’re going southward tomorrow…
Qa'Rajh Creations 