After the ordeal at the lake, which, according to the others, were a horde of undead walking along the bottom of the lake, we began heading up the mountains, finally. Ah, what a wonderful place. if only my companions could see the beauty in the rocks the way I do. I felt invigorated by the fresh mountain air, and the narrow path felt like stepping on known land to me. To the east we could see another murky, dark-green area, another mire, no doubt.
For once the weather seemed to favor our group, clear skies with almost no wind. There was an aura of hope and relief on many of my travel mates, the knowledge of us getting closer to the monastery, appeared to be enough to lift our spirits up. That Tiefling seemed jumpy, but from the days I’ve spent in his company, that felt like par for the course, and no-one really seemed to care much about it. When the opportunity arises, I shall thank him for pulling me out of the mud, back in the mire, not a huge favor perhaps, but where a “thank you” is in order, it is only right that it gets to the appropriate target. Especially if said target is a flimsy, and not on side with luck, as coming events would soon tell.
The path started to become more winding, the next part of the path always on our left and always several feet above our heads. I saw several of the others looking down the way we came up, on multiple occasions. If you’re not used to faring through rocky and mountainous areas, that is how you get yourself a fear of heights and of falling. Of course, a fall would certainly be lethal, but if you know what you’re doing, and keep your wits about, you should be just fine. Granted, I hadn’t been in mountains myself for some twenty years or so, back when the caravan visited an isolated human village, but certain things just sticks with you. Mountain Dwarves are at home both in and on mountains, as the name suggests.
Suddenly a rumbling boom, echoed from above us, that’s a sound you do not want to hear, while heading up a mountain. I reckon it was the fear of falling that kept some of the others gazed on the path below, rather than on what was above them, but they didn’t seem to notice. The very next second, a large mass of rocks and boulders fell on our party, I looked to see if the others were alright, most of them dodged in against the mountain side. Large rocks hit Liri and Mariah, though the damage didn’t seem too bad. As I looked away, trying to get my shield up in time, I realised my mistake, but it was too late: A rock about half my own size, smacked me right in the middle of my face. Stung like hell it did. We looked up, but saw no trace of what could have caused the rockfall, it didn’t seem natural, but with no evidence otherwise, we pressed on, now wary of both sky and ground. A small alcove provided a much needed rest for some of us.
After the rest we moved further, everyone a bit more on edge. That Tiefling took front, which I deemed weird, considering his less-than damage resistant frame, but I shrugged it off; perhaps nothing weird would appear on the narrow path, that could damage him. My thoughts may have been provoking some hidden Tiefling God or Goddess of Luck, as something seemed to be dealing damage to the Tiefling. I could see him trying to fend himself against something coming from above, but the distance was too great for me to see what attacked him. It wouldn’t be unlike him to step in a beehive, but I’d never heard of bees this high up in the mountains. As all of this was happening, a rock about half the size of a Human’s fist, struck him, right in his horned head, he began running back towards the rest of us. And then we saw it; from behind a rock-face on the path above us, several green and yellow scaled creatures with long pointy ears could be seen. One of them stood up, swirling a leather strap with a loaded rock, and hurled it towards us. We had halted our climb on an overhang, above us rose the path, ever winding upwards. Far below, we saw the river as a narrow, dark-blue line, cutting through the mountains, with the path only barely visible. To our right was nothing… well a very deep fall towards the side of the mountain, I couldn’t exactly tell the distance, but unless you could sprout wings, that fall spelled death for anyone unlucky enough to test their fate. In the blink of an eye, more scaled creatures appeared; Kobolds. I could count nearly twenty of them. Some were climbing from rock-caves below, some readied their slings from above, and a good handful was blocking the path by the next bend. I pondered for a bit, Kobold’s normally prefer darkness, a nuisance down in the deeper mines, but not per say a danger. Twenty of them though, that’s concerning, or rather, when faced with twenty of them on a narrow mountain path, with lethal heights in place, that’s a problem.
Well, problems are there to be solved, and if these Kobolds wanted a piece of Dwarf, they’d had to come and get it. I readied my shield and warhammer, as the Half-Orc rushed forward, battle-axe swinging towards the first target on the path. As she reached the front Kobold, who was about to brandish what looked like a crude, make-shift knife, a single swing from her battle-axe left the Kobold no longer hungry, as it’s hard to eat without a head. The Half-Orc’s speed was concerning; I could not catch her, and if the Kobold’s all went down that easily, there’d be none for me to deal with. I was about to call out to the Paladin, to leave some for me, when I heard Mariah the Blue utter some strange words behind me. In a moment a neatly-sized rock flew up in a pretty arch hitting the mountain way above. For a second nothing happened, but then, another rumble shook the path, and a massive rockfall took several Kobold’s with it, only one of those in it’s way, managed to dodge. The rocks also hit the Paladin, but she didn’t seem to take notice.
Having lost the moment of surprise, a few of the Kobolds started moving towards the advancing Half-Orc. Shaking my head, I knew that unless the Kobolds somehow managed to over-power the Paladin, I wouldn’t even manage to get close to whack one. Reluctantly, I put my shield on my back and my warhammer back in it’s holster on my belt. One of these days, I’ll get a bigger crossbow, one that can pack a real punch. Probably also should get some target practice in with it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Paladin’s battle-axe chop through yet another Kobold. There were a lot of targets that way, but the Kobolds there appeared to fall as soon as the Half-Orc’s brutal swings brought them to peace. Turning around, looking for targets, I saw two Kobolds readying their slings on the path below Liri and the Tiefling, as so many times before, I saw the Halfling ready to lunge herself into combat, though this time, she’d probably do just fine. Just to be sure, I called out to her, “Oi, Halfling, think ya can handle those two?” I didn’t get other answer than a leather-clad Halfling with brandished daggers, darting towards the first Kobold. A gurgled screech was heard from below, as I kept seeking a target. The Tiefling looked bruised, but was concentrating himself for action, in the next second a green splash of some ichor covered one of the Kobolds up high, melting the creature. His attack made me focus on the area above. As I readied my crossbow, Mariah had once again cast her magic; a powerful and very bright beam smack right in the middle of the narrow path, disintegrating three Kobolds in one fell swoop.
The mountain side appeared as a grey mass of rocks, rocks and more rocks. And the Kobold’s had now caught on that this prey was dangerous, also at range. I could see two figures, far up on the mountain side, from time to time, they’d peak their ugly heads out, taking view of the situation. It was a matter of timing here… There was a rhythm to the bopping. I counted inside of myself and pulled the release on my crossbow. I looked for the bolt’s flight, but it was too fast. I heard the impact; a dry and satisfying thump. I could barely make out the shape of one of the creatures, slumped to the ground beside the rock cropping it had used for cover. I knew by myself that it not only was a hit, but also a kill, as I began reloading the crossbow anew. There was still one more Kobold above us, another one had taken flight, surprisingly nimble, across the mountain side. The Paladin saw no reason to pursue, and it was well out of range of anyone else. I am not sure exactly how Kobold tribes work, if that escapee would tell others to warn them, or to gather more of his mates for backup. I partly wanted the latter to be true, wouldn’t want my hammer-arm getting flabby. I was about to take aim at the last Kobold, when the Tiefling acted. I can’t really describe it to it’s full, and I do not claim to completely understand it, even now. But, I suppose, he cast some kind of magic at the Kobold, causing it to, quite literally, pop. Instead of celebrating, he just went stiff as a rock wall, staring out into… nothing. Suddenly he began to turn around on himself, eventually stopping, and started to walk, with a blank expression. His direction was straight towards Liri, who had dealt with the Kobolds below. With the Tiefling being almost double the Halfling’s height, I’m not certain Liri could have held the Tiefling up. Instead, she stepped to the side, letting the Tiefling continue out over the edge. A god of luck must have smiled on him, as he only fell some fifteen feet or so, down on the path we had just climbed up. After regaining his awareness, he tried to insist that Liri had tried to trip him. Liri, obviously, denied this, and from what I could see, it did not seem like it was the case.
As the battle cleared over, the two knights, badly bruised, rejoined us. The elven messenger was no longer with them. As they explained it, a rockfall had started shortly after the first sounds of combat, and the elf was carried of the side of the mountain. Along with his backpack. Mariah mourned the loss of the documents (not so much the loss of the carrier). From what the knights told, the messenger was dead before being tossed off the mountain; the rocks had cracked his skull. At least it was a quick death.
No-one, including myself, cared to loot the Kobold remains, so instead we just climbed further up. As the mountain began to flatten itself out, we could see that we still weren’t anywhere near the peak. The fresh mountain air did me good, and my spirits was higher than normal, only thing lacking was maybe a cup of ale or mead, and perhaps a roast piglet. Perhaps it was due to the air that I was the only one who discovered a man, Human, sitting in a greyish cape around him. His cape almost blended with mountain side. I could see no weapons on the man, whom I’d presume to be around his late forties, but when getting a closer look, I saw his muscled frame beneath the cape. This man was a warrior or a soldier, one who had seen his share of war and combat. I called out to him, and he looked up at us. At first he seemed, almost, reluctant to get to know us, but eventually we ensured him that we meant him no harm. He then presented himself as “Rowan”, a man who had been living in these mountains for the past four to five years, according to himself. He invited us to join him in his cave for the night, and after a short walk, we came upon an barely visible wooden door in the rockside. Inside was not exactly spacious, but Rowan had a decent setup. A working table of some sort, a fireplace with a cooking spit, and plenty of room further in. He’d been making a stew, and was not overjoyed, but not negative either about sharing. The stew was good, though none of us seemed able to decipher what meat he’d used. After dining, Rowan asked about our business. The ordeal with the mystery meat seemed to make some of us suspicious, but feeling coming off of him, seemed to suggest that he was just curious for his own reasons, and not one of spying for some master or group.
Just before we tucked in for the night, he asked if he could improve on some our gear, I could see a crude set of tools on the side of a forge. A good part of the group handed both armour and weaponry to him. I refused in a friendly matter, saying that as a Dwarf, and as a smith myself, I’d rather keep my gear up to scale myself. I had dealt with swindlers claiming to be blacksmiths, only to actually make the equipment worse, in order for them, with friends or not, to ambush the person later on. I watched the man as he began working, I didn’t try to hide that I was looking, and it didn’t seem to bother Rowan. Considering the crude level of equipment and tools, he was actually a pretty good smith. Making sure the others were asleep, I nodded in respect to him, and went to sleep myself. I could most likely have done better, even with this gear, but it’s a Dwarven thing to not praise the craft of others (especially not within fields of work, where many Dwarves lay their hides, so stonework, smithing and engineering). The next morning I pretended to inspect the weapons and armour, which was improved from it’s original form. “Aye, that’s not bad… for a human.” I had eye contact with Rowan as I said this, I think he understood that I didn’t mean it to mock his work. We greeted him farewell, and headed towards this monastery. After a day or two of event-less trudging, we finally saw the monastery, resting atop a smaller plateau. The high walls and red roofs standing solemn in the grey mass of mountains. The stairs up towards the main door seemed in disrepair, from what I could tell, we didn’t really have time to stop. When we finally reached the large wooden doors, we saw that both were ajar; something or someone had broken into the monastery.
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