Finally we have reached the monastery, that I’ve heard the others talk so much about. Not sure why we are here, but the two knights following us, suggest it to be important. The wind was howling here, we could see the peak reach up just behind the buildings, i’m just glad that this place isn’t frozen over or covered in snow, that would make all of this a whole lot more difficult. We stopped to assess the situation some thirty feet from the large wooden double doors, that appeared to be closed at the first glance. Apart from the wind, there was… nothing. No sounds of animals, no sounds of people, nothing. There was only an eerie silence and the wind. I glanced up, the monastery wasn’t an enormous building, but the walls seemed solid, almost fortress like in their construct. Given it’s remote location, the monastery would be easy to defend from even larger forces, as the road, or rather path, up here was narrow and long. Ten people, if given enough ammunition, could probably fend this place off for quite some time. Food and water would likely become a problem over time, but the fighting itself should not.

With a closer look, we saw that one side of the door, was ajar. The opening was large enough for a person of regular size to get through. Before I could suggest that we should head inside, I noticed that Liri was missing from the group. How she moves that deftly, is beyond me. I looked around, she hadn’t climbed the walls, she hadn’t been falling, I’d probably have heard that. Suddenly she appeared from the door, I shot a look at Mariah, but it did not seem like magic was involved. Liri waved us over; the coast was clear.

The inside of the gatehouse was dark, the air seemed stagnant, a slight breeze came through the opened door, but it felt as if no-one had been here in a while. Liri was already at work opening the next door, I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but it seemed to work. A click, and the door could be opened with ease. The light that met us as the door opened up, was almost blinding. The sun gleaming high from above, several of us had our hands on the hilts of our respective weapons, but there wasn’t anyone, or anything for that matter, in the courtyard. Tension seemed to vanish almost entirely, but still there was this awkward sense of something being wrong. The courtyard had signs of trouble, blood splatter here and there, carvings into the walls as if something hit them with great force. There was no direct signs, other than the blood, no abandoned weapons, no pieces of armor, but most importantly; no corpses. I looked over at the blood, perhaps I could discover something, but alas, there didn’t seem to be anything odd about it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Half-Orc striding across the courtyard with haste, a door in the far end of the courtyard had her attention. She tried to open the door, but finding it locked, she called out for the Halfling to help. I was pretty sure that, had she wanted to, she could have broken the door down with some ease. I could see Liri fiddle with the lock, she had a knack for locks it seemed. As soon as the door was opened, the Half-Orc nearly pushed Liri aside and headed inside. I couldn’t hear the clashing of steel, no cries of combat. Very shortly after entering, both the Halfling and the Half-Orc came out, heaving for air. Both of them were trying to hold their noses, whilst trying not to hurl, guessing something repulsive must have been in the room they opened. Looking around in the monastery, there weren’t a whole lot of windows around, not even crenellations or shooting galleries. In that sense, the construct was very Dwarven, though we Dwarves mostly build like that, because it would be underground. And shooting galleries for crossbowmen and siege equipment were pretty much a must. From my angle, I could see some tables, what looked to be for dining. While I was curious as to why my two companions acted like they did, I also had no intention of heading in there. We had agreed upon clearing out the top levels first, so that, if we were heading deeper inside, we wouldn’t get surprised by someone (or something) laying in ambush.

While this was going on, Mariah and That Tiefling were trying to discover anything new from the gatehouse. To no avail, it seemed, at least I heard no triumphant mutter. The Half-Orc walked, well, rushed, across the courtyard, to a small tower-like struture that was built on it’s own, not visibly connected to the rest of the monastery. This door had no lock, and was opened without issues. I could hear a splash coming from inside, distant and small. Then the squeaking of a poorly oiled hinge. Then another splash, and the Half-Orc coming out with a look of focus on her face. I’m not sure why, but Mariah thought to explore the exact room, that the Half-Orc had just left. Given it’s size, I wouldn’t count on much being in there actually. Another splash. Again the sound of the hinge. Mariah came out, with an old beat-up bucket in her hands, without further warning, she splashed the contents out in the courtyard. Well, she tried to splash it out, it was more of a sticky glide. I have seen some murky, dirty water before, like a stream that came from near where two Trolls had holed up. But even then, the water was still fluent. This water had a greyish, almost black colour to it, and it’s texture was more something gooey than liquid. Mariah looked to ponder the liquid’s nature, as if something about it was familiar to her. After a few moments of her being lost in thought, she attempted to throw something into the liquid. But nothing happened, the thing didn’t being to melt or being consumed.

An increasingly more agitated Paladin stomped towards the next door, only to find it locked. And barked an order to Liri for her to do her craft. The Halfling shrugged her shoulders, and went over, tinkering with the lock shortly, before once again nearly being pushed over as the Half-Orc flung the door open, calling out “Door’s open!”. She didn’t even have her weapon at the ready, as she barged into another room. I was halfway prepared, as I moved over to the side of the opened door, to hear the sound of the Half-Orc hurling up her rations, but aside from the staleness in the air, there was nothing foul here. A thin layer of dust had settled on the tables and benches. Looked like a barracks, but I saw no weapons, armour or training dummies. No forges, grindstones or workbenches. Perhaps I should have been a little more vigilant in paying attention to the knights, I found myself doubting the purpose of coming here at all. Sure, the fellowship and companions were a nice change of pace, but the meager loot, the lacking amount of heroic action and now this, seemingly completely empty monastery. I had made my mind up; if nothing came of this venture, if nothing really was found in this desolate place, I’d head down the mountain again, heading east, if nothing else, I could at least find a suitable plot of land. After that, it was only the matter of gathering building materials, and finding somewhere to buy crops and pigs. There was a sinking feeling in my gut though; something here was not right, and it wasn’t just the lack of loot.

While my mind was set on potentially leaving, the Door-duo was at it again. I was the only one trying to reason that, we had planned to take the upper levels first. It was only when the next door open up to a steep staircase leading down and into the mountain, with only very little light at all, that my words seemed to reach into the Half-Orc’s thick skull. She stopped to think, looking down into the darkness. Thankfully, Mariah the Blue came to my aid, proclaiming that we’d likely have to head down here eventually. I am not sure exactly why, as we could hear nothing and see nothing from the staircase; no signs of life, but Liri decided to lock the door up once more, in hindsight, a wise decision. Instead the Half-Orc headed towards yet another door, opened it and went in. Another dining room, this one clean though. Without checking anything more in the room, the Paladin strode across the room, towards yet another door in the far end. With a firm grip, she opened the door. And as if hit by an invisible fist to the gut, she keeled forward, hurling the breakfast and possibly more, up on the stone-floor. As i was standing in a straight line, I could see straight into a larder, and I swear, I could almost see the fungi and mold from here. Luckily, I could not smell it. I called out to her, high spirited, “Oi, Half-Orc, do you like the tiling of the floor, ya seem very intent on the details of it!” as I was reminded of an old Dwarvish saying; “Only fools rush in, the patient one will make it through more likely.” Sure, there was some honor in getting into a fight first, part of what I admired in the Halfling, but if you aren’t exactly acting brightly or prepared for combat, you’re likely to get into a heap of trouble. And unless you go out in a blaze of glory, the dead are only rarely considered as heroic.

Leaving the contents of her stomach behind, the Paladin seemed overjoyed by getting out in the fresh air of the courtyard. Taking a moment to regain, most of, her composure, she quickly rushed up the stairs, with the Halfling in tow. I think the Half-Orc went for the sake of action, Liri, on the other hand, was likely after loot. Two doors and another staircase was our options here. As expected, the Half-Orc was first to a door, this one unlocked, leading in to a library. Books and knowledge isn’t really my call of port, but I was hoping to find some information on the monastery itself, if I could discover clues leading to treasure or glory, then that would be grand. Plus, even though it was a library, you’d never what could be left of other things of value. A tale from the caravan told of a vain and greedy Human noble, who, in the attempt to reclaim an enchanted sword, literally dug through a pile of Ogre shit. As the tale went, the man DID find the sword, and it did indeed bring him fortune in the rest of his life, though the tale of him waist deep in Ogre shit stuck to him. The point is, I think, that you can find treasure in the strangest places sometimes. There sure was a lot of books, floor to ceiling bookcases, and unfortunately not much else. A couple of sturdy looking furniture, for reading and writing, no doubt, but nothing that looked like it could have secret rooms with gems or other valuables. Right behind me, I was joined by Mariah, I reckon this could be a potential heaven for one like her. I had begun to feel more friendly with her, even despite her being a user of magic and all. Perhaps it was the Athlin guard tabbard? No Athlin guard had ever done wrong by me, and heck knows, I sure wasn’t an easy customer in my early days in Athlin, drinking my last wages away, trying to forget. What I had seen and heard, Athlin guards had a high standard of protectiveness, honesty and a keen sense of justice. Values that I myself found to cling to.

A large book on a pedestal caught our interest, Mariah began thumping through the pages, I glanced in from the side. It was a journal of sorts, seemingly written by someone important within the monastery. But alas, nothing that spoke of valor, loot or unique objects. I turned around, walking out of the library, leaving Mariah with the book, she seemed deeply concentrated in going back through the pages. In the meantime, the others had opened the other door. I wandered in, and found that Tiefling halfway inside a simple chest. He had found some white, simple robes, probably belonging to the monks of this place. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever did see him wear anything on his torso. No wonder he found the climb up the mountain to be cold. It would not give him protection, but it would like make him look at least a little more decent. I could see the other chests, and an even more aggravated Half-Orc looking like she did not know what to do with herself. If it wasn’t a foolish venture, I’d have offered to wrestle with her, just to let her let some steam off. But before I could even think the thought through, she had already gone and left the room, heading for the stairs to a higher level. I fear what she may do, if an enemy shows up. She is strong, headstrong as well, but her fierce attitude and her current mood is not a good combo. Plus, if we were to engage with another weak enemy, she’d likely yet again take all the kills.

These stairs led up to what looked like the top level. This was good, it meant that we’d be done with this forsaken place, and could head inside. A decrepit silvery tree stood in a plaza. It resembled the crest on our knightly companion’s clothing, and seeing how they seemed extra sullen at the sight of the tree, there probably was a connection. As if working on a clock, the Half-Orc went over to the first door in sight, finding it locked and turned to shout for Liri, only to find the Halfling already at work with the lock. As the door opened, the Half-Orc took only one glance in, then decided that this room wasn’t interesting at all, and scurried over to a sturdy looking door, calling for the Halfling to help. The inside of the room they left, appeared to be an office of some sort, and Mariah went in to seek further knowledge. As the final and last door as opened, things seemed to finally turn out right. An armory of sorts, but alas, only containing staves and the like. No axes, no shields, no crossbows, no armor, not even a sword to boot. The others didn’t seem to mind, as they came out, each carrying a blunt-ended staff each. Didn’t look much like magical staves to me, but I can’t really say that I know much about magic.

We reconvened in the barracks-like room once more. Had the door not been locked, I’m fairly certain that our dear Paladin would have rushed forward without thinking, or waiting for the rest of the party. In the case nothing truly was below the monastery, of course then it wouldn’t be a problem. Mariah had discovered, from the journal in the office and the book in the library, that something, apparently from within the mountain, might be the cause of the undead walking about in hordes. Liri started opening the door, I thought for a second I saw worry in her face, but in the same instance the lock clicked open, a rushed push from the Half-Orc shoved her aside. The stairs seemed steep, and the steps narrow, and judging by our Paladin’s speed and step-length, I was willing to bet we’d see her stumble and tumble down, we could just barely make out the bottom of the stairs in the dark. To our surprise, the Half-Orc maintained to stay upright all the way down, as she reached the bottom she sort of stumbled forward, out of our sight. That’s when we heard a pained, low, and unsettling groan. I had heard a couple of Orcs try to make a coherent conversation, which was not unlike this sound. But where Orcish speech seems to be a series of grunts and aggressive noises, this was more slow and monotone. As we all got down, I believe a few of our hearts may have skipped a beat; our Paladin had stumbled, to her luck, shield first into a grey-ish looking zombie. The skintone wasn’t exactly the same hue as the water from the well, but there were similar points. The remains of the same white robe, we discovered in the bedroom, clutched to the undead monk. Further down the corridor, that seemed to descend slightly, more shapes were shambling around. The one zombie that the Half-Orc had pushed, started slowly, very slowly to turn towards her. It seemed she finally stopped to think, as she signalled to us to follow her. We all moved past this zombie, who didn’t seem to notice us. All of the zombies appeared to be this slow, while we might have stood a chance, fighting an enemy this slow, we instead found it wiser to just move past them, hoping our speed would suffice. I had bad gut feelings about this plan, mostly because we Dwarves aren’t exactly known for feats into sprinting, but fortunately, I was pretty much in the middle of the group, and as we walked in a single line, I would at least have someone at my side to assist me.

The zombies were aware of our presence, but only as we got close and started to move between them. That Tiefling and Liri used their nimbleness to kite between the staggering undead, while the Half-Orc and myself were using our shields to keep the dead at a distance. They were even slower than the time my old caravan fell into a Hobgoblin ambush, the cretins had somehow secured the aid of an Ogre, but the fiend was so slow, that we managed to slay or drive the Hobgoblins off, and still have plenty of time to riddle him with arrows. Mariah and our knightly followers, all without sight attuned to the dark, must have had it rough, it’s hard to say if the undead may have reacted faster, when affected by a torch or another light-source, but none dared to try, it would potentially be suicide. Up ahead the carving of the tunnel seemed to end, bit of a shoddy work, the support pillars did not look well-placed, and the different sized stones didn’t seem to make the tunnel stronger. It would stand, of course, but this certainly wasn’t done by skilled masons or diggers. Stone walls and floor, turned natural, we were no longer in the monastery, we had entered the mountain itself.

Up ahead, through even more zombies, I think I counted a total of nearly sixty of them in total, we scouted a double door, set in a dark metal. It spanned across the entire tunnel, there was no inscriptions on it, no ornate designs. Just plain, dark metal. Four heavy-looking bars spanned in front of the door, two from each side of the tunnel. As we pushed through the final zombies, we must have had about forty feet between the horde and the door. Upon closer inspection, the door and the bars were all set in iron, coarse and rough metal work, but efficient in creating a strong door. As Liri pointed out, looking the doors over for locks, it was a bit strange that the bars where on this side, indicating that this door was meant to keep something in. This was concerning indeed. What ever the creature or force was, the monks had either failed to fight it fully, and just contained it. Or the monks had kept it locked off as a security measure. Finding no locks on the flat iron surface, Liri pointed out that the bars would need to be moved, for the doors to open. She didn’t even try to move them herself, though I can’t say I blame her, the bars did look heavy. Someone, I’m not sure who, suggested that we attempted to find another way through. But none of us had seen any doorways, nothing that looked like it could conceal a hidden passage. The stonework was too obvious. So I called out, perhaps a tad harsh that “We can open the door, and go forward, or we can go backwards, through the zombies once more, and gain nothing. That’s it, we do not have other choices here!”. As if reacting to the claim, the Paladin swiped her shield against one of the bars, but with no other purpose than to let out aggression, it just dinged off. Judging by her feats of strength earlier, I would guess that our Paladin was on par with myself in strength. I glanced, shortly at the others, and thought to myself: “Well, yea, no… That’s not going to happen.” Out of the corner of my eye, the zombies were shambling closer, still not very fast, but now they seemed aware of our presence. We had to move. Now. Without further delay, I went for the lowest bar, and started pulling it out from the door. I felt every bit of my shoulders and upper chest strain, but gritting my teeth, I put my back into it. The iron cried out as the bar began to bend. Feeling that neither my arms nor the bar could move much more, I let go of my grip. I had bent it about a foot or two out from the door, it would suffice. The Half-Orc followed my example, I could see her large muscled biceps swell, and just as the first bar, this one also bent about a foot out. This seemed to drain the Paladin’s strength, so while she regained her composure, I went to bend the third bar. This one was just above my head, I would have trouble reaching the fourth and last one. I felt blood rushing through my veins, the feeling of success, and it was as if this iron bar bent even easier than the first. The Paladin started pulling in the lat bar, but it seemed she had been overexerting herself, the bar barely moved at all. In a moment, as she tried applying more strength that wasn’t there into the pull, she kneeled down on her one knee. It was an opportune moment, using her thigh as a stepping-board, I lept up, pulling my entire weight outwards. The bar shrieked and bent outwards. As soon as there was room, that Tiefling and Liri each pulled their side of the door open, the iron doors pressing against the bend bars, creating an opening deeper into the mountain. As everyone had entered, we pulled the doors to a close behind us again. i doubt the zombies had enough consciousness to be able to pull the door open, had it been a push, we might have been worse off.

The new tunnel was even darker than before, and deep into the mountain, we heard something scuttle about; we were not alone in here…

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.

With the farmstead secure, the odd group that came to aid against the dog-men, have accepted me to join them on their journey. A rowdy and unruly lot, at least that’s my first impression of them. Oh well, as long as their antics are kept without a Dwarf as the victim, this should be, in the lack of a better word, acceptable. Their objective isn’t quite clear to me yet, I heard some talk of a monastery, must be the Silver Oak one near Athlin. I’ve heard it mentioned a couple of times, but nothing more specific as to where or what. The group seems, mostly, honourable enough, the Half-orc Paladin appears to be of high spirits at all times, and to my surprise, the voice of reason in a lot of situations. I was not impressed with the amount of air, to the amount of dog-men, her axe managed to strike though. Must be the Orcish side in her. There’s a glimmer of toughness to her, even out of battle, and she seems bent on acting in fairness, or at least what she deems as “fairness”.

I was happy to see a Halfing amongst the group, someone else to take the top off the “you’re the short one here” jokes, she’s a wee lass. Nimble, fast and seems devious. The kind of person you’d have to watch out for, when guarding a caravan. I don’t know if she enjoys the center of the action, or if she’s just that much faster than anyone else, but her armour and twin daggers are obviously not meant for locked down combat, granted the dog-men weren’t exactly equipped for it either, but any longer battle isn’t her deal. Or maybe it is; a suicidal Halfling, or maybe a Halfling seeking glory in combat? Who knows other than herself? My first impression is, that she makes some hasty choices, without always thinking them through first. Reasonable and friendly, as any Halfling I’d ever met. She seems to partake little in the antics and theatrics, though I think she enjoys being entertained, as long as it is not her on the receiving end.

The two Tieflings, as if one wasn’t enough, appear as agents of chaos. Admitted, their abilities are useful in combat, and they don’t seem to let their antics endanger a friend in combat. I didn’t even catch the one’s name, the group seems to mostly refer to him as just “That Tiefling”. I think it’s wiser, for my own safety and sanity, to keep a distance to them. At least for now.

The bard acts as the instigator, though his bardic talents seems… Well, hard to describe, I haven’t really experienced them yet. He seems keen on joking about the Halfling’s height, possibly something I’ll have to endure as well, though I’m sure a well-placed gauntlet or boot can make him regret that. He also seems to enjoy putting That Tiefling in distress out of battle. The very idea of potentially endangering someone without a purpose; I can only shake my head at the thought.

I find the mage Mariah to be a little distant towards the rest of the group, mayhaps that her wisdom makes her able to not join in on the antics. Reasonable and level-headed, she seems just and, unlike most of the others, actually skilled at her craft. I don’t particular enjoy the use of magic, but even I’d admit that the ability to hurl something, seemingly out of nowhere, with great force at enemies is quite handy.

Along with the group are also two Knights, I haven’t been able to converse with them, they appear to keep to themselves. The task must be one of importance, as the knights seems to dislike the group taking detours, but perhaps a chance to strike up a conversation shall rise soon enough.

---

We’d been trudging along the grassy hills for quite a while, when someone suddenly realised that we had not checked the dog-men bodies for loot. I would have dismissed the chance of finding anything, the dog-men weren’t really wearing anything that could conceal any loot, and their equipment was… crude, almost insulting to any person with just the slightest idea of working a forge and anvil. But a majority found it a good idea, though the knights DID try to keep the focus on the task. Apparently, I’m not alone in seeking fortune here.

Returning to the farmstead, we found that a large number of the very dead dog-men, wasn’t laying as corpses where we left them. And there didn’t appear to be any signs of something burrying or devouring the corpses, the idea of undead dog-men struck my mind slightly, but I shook it out again, as I began to loot one of the deceased creatures. The smell, a mixture of fried, wet and slightly rotting dog, was almost as bad as when I had cleared out a Goblin nest along with some of the other caravan guards. The others also seemed to be less than pleased with the stench. Maybe it kept them from concentrating, but none of them appeared to actually find anything of importance. I found a small pouch, worn leather and a simple string with a couple of coins in it. Well, all fortunes start small.

Turning a bit more south, we had the distant mountains on our left, a feeling of loneliness struck me, but there was no certainty of Dwarves residing in these mountains. Over the next hill, the grass had turned a darker green, the grass was taller, thicker, as if untouched by cattle or wanderers. Several white areas seemed to dot the grass, it seemed very strange. It seemed the wisest to be cautious, but where there is caution, there is also curiosity. And where there’s curiosity, there is also stupidity. That Tiefling went over and literally poked his bare hand into the white mass of… whatever it was. In the blink of an eye, a large shadow rushed out of the whiteness, and lashed it’s fangs into the skin of that Tiefling’s hand. A massive, black spider. And it did not seem pleased. As that Tiefling withdrew in surprise and pain, the spider lashed out again, seemingly doing a lot of damage. The Paladin rushed over, battle-axe in hand, and Mariah was preparing some kind of spell.

Meanwhile, Liri, the Halfling, had chosen a wiser, though still risky way of investigating the webs; poking it with daggers. As on a rail, another large spider came forth, finding itself facing Liri and myself, I had been staying a few feet from the web, I was not going to touch those things. At least not with something that could get stuck or get bitten. The spider started attacking Liri before I could react, but it never seemed to be any real danger. I wouldn’t want to miss out on the action, one can never be too sure. In a fluent move, I stepped forward in the tall grass, cautious not to step into the web, and swung my hammer at the spider’s face. It gave a nice loud crack as metal struck and broke the carapace plate, but the spider wasn’t defeated yet. I had my shield up, ready for the spider to come at me, in the moment before it was about to lunge, I heard a faint, but powerful whisper in the air. An insult of some kind, directed at the spider? Peaking over my shoulder, the bard stood, pointing fingers at the spider. What, are you going to sing it to death? Apparently, the whispers worked, and the spider encased itself in web and stopped moving.

Meanwhile, the other spider had been dealt with, the Paladin had taken a few hits, though nothing serious. There was an anxious feel in the air, as we all could see more of the webbed areas. But despite the commotion of the battle, no-more spiders appeared. After a short debate, we agreed upon leaving the rest of the webs and potential spiders be; the spiders seemed only to come forth when their nests were disturbed. Not making the same mistake twice, we decided to loot the destroyed nests, but sadly not much of value was found. Other than remains of humanoid origin and tufts of fur, similar to that of the dog-men. It seemed like the plains where bristling with life… And not-life.

Keeping a close eye on that Tiefling, just in case of him wanting to poke another nest, we moved back to the trail once more, heading south-east again. We came across yet another farmstead. Here the farmers seemed calm, and reacted defensively towards requests of being evacuated to Athlin and the Silver Oak Monastery. They explained that the spiders acted as natural defense, eating marauders, bandits and other no-gooders. With silent and unseen nods, we agreed amongst the group to not mention to the farmers, that we killed a couple of their defense. I wasn’t exactly sure if this was the right thing to do, but the farmers seemed sure that they were safe. I hope they are right. They offered us shelter and food for the night, but it was only afternoon. And, after one of the knights pointed out, that we’d gone only about some 15 miles, due to the detour with the spiders, and going back to loot the dog-men, so she suggested that we instead made way further south.

Walking along the foot of the mountains, we discovered a path in the stone of some sort, and after a short walk, we came upon a sealed Dwarven door. I had no idea that there would be, excuse me, have been other Mountain Dwarves here. Then again, most of the remaining Mountain Dwarf strongholds, are pretty secluded, and not really in contact with other settlements. The runes on the frame of the door seemed to spell something out, I was hoping to discover why this hold, or outpost, was abandoned. Alas, all I found was the name of this stronghold, “Herndarum”. I fear I may have led my fellow travel mates down, I’m a Dwarf, and could tell them nothing except for the name of this place. The barren stones here seemed completely devoid of life, no animals and no plants. We decided to not investigate further, and with a heavy heart, I returned along the others back to the foot of the mountains. My thoughts go out to the Dwarves who lived here, may they have found greener pastures and not an untimely demise.

Around evening-time, the landscape finally changed from the grassy plains. The ground became less and less solid; dirt turned to mud, and mud turned to murky, stagnant water. We had entered the northern part of The Moonlit Mire. To survey our plans forward, the knights pointed out how dangerous and deceiving the swamp could be. One of the two remaining knights had knowledge of this swamp, or at least experience with moving through swamps in general, took point as we huddled together what ropes we had, tying all group members by the waist (and the Halfing under her armpits) in a long chain. What with the size of the others in the group, apart from Liri, I would not be able to see much, so before anyone else, I called it and said that I would take point after the knight. Would also give me a fair chance of finishing a fight on my own. The group seemed to almost all want to be in the rear part of the chain, though I’m uncertain why. It ended up with that Tiefling right behind me, and the Halfling next in line after that. The second knight took the rear, and the others were in between that.

Our progress was slow, but, I must admit, with the knight’s guidance, the trudge was uneventful. Perhaps for this reason, my mind began to wander, I thought I saw something appearing in the surface of a mud bank, then disappearing short after. The distance was too great for me to make out, what it actually was, but, as if guided by my curiosity (and the fact that I was distracted from the knight’s guidance), I continued forward where the knight had made a turn. before I could react, the solid ground seemed to vanish beneath me, and the icky water reached up to my arm-pits. I tried wiggling back, flailing my arms in a hopeless attempt to pull myself up, but just then, something seemed to grab tightly around my right boot. I was about to pull on both parts of the rope that I was tied with, but then thinking about it, neither that Tiefling nor the knight seemed granduos in strength, and likely, it would more be me pulling them in, than them pulling me out. And the Tiefling would probably make a big fuss about it. Instead, I just turned my head over my shoulder, and called out, without distress in my voice, “Uh… I may be a wee bit stuck here, some help please?” I could hear the knight groan audibly. To my surprise, that Tiefling actually listened, and didn’t try any of those magic tricks of his. Though the pull was light, it was enough resistance for me to haul myself up.

It didn’t feel like whatever was clamped around my boot, had any force of it’s own, and as I got out of the muk, I lifted my foot and discovered why; a skeletal hand, with no arm or person attached. The hand seemed to wiggle, and I swear, that Tiefling almost fainted at the sight. We moved towards an area that appeared to have larger mounds of solid ground, above water-level as well. There was just enough room to camp down for the night, and needing some shut-eye, I took first guard. Joining me was that Tiefling, who claimed something along the lines of the “early night time being less dangerous”, I don’t think there’s any proof to that claim. The knight, who took the rear guard, also joined the first shift. Nothing happened during the watch, except we saw some odd blue lights circling something quite far out in the swamp. We decided not to act upon it, the danger of the mire’s murky water, plus that Tiefling being squeamish. We woke up the next guard shift.

Almost as soon as I sat down, as there wasn’t room to lie down, even for a Dwarf, my eyelids grew heavy. Though I didn’t get much sleep that night. The sound of combat, got me up and ready. The first thing I noticed, was that the rope was cut, and that Tiefling was no longer bound to me. Next, as I looked out over the mire, I noticed the Halfling getting pummeled by the blue lights from before, in the glints of lightning, I saw what looked like a crate of some kind. Liri’s cries for help were pitiful to say the least, as she really didn’t seem to do well against the blue lights. The distance was pretty far, and it’s not like I’m exactly trained in using my light crossbow, but lodging a bolt and pulling the weapon to my chin. The dry thunk of the bolt shooting off into the night, seemed louder than the other times I had fired it. I saw one of the blue lights flicker a tiny bit, my shot must have hit somehow, though if the Halfling did little damage, my bolt had done even less. Eventually, we managed to defeat the lights, and Liri returned to looting the crate. Sadly, it’s contains were meager and of little interest. Going back to a sitting sleep, the rest of the night went on without further disturbances.

The next morning we managed to trudge further north, the mounds of solid ground became bigger and with less distance between them, some thoughtful souls had even taken the time to place down rounded logs, serving as small bridges. On one particular large mound, we saw something really strange: A growth of some sort, with a pair of legs wiggling halfway into it. Surely, if you got stuck in a bush like that, all you had to do was push yourself back out. Well, unless you were piss-drunk out of your senses, of course. Feeling curious, we managed to pull the individual out. To my, and I think others’, surprise, the person was covered in some sort of sludge. And it seemed we managed to disturb… something. The bush game to life, and suddenly a huge mass of vines and plant-matter rose and started attacking us. The Bard told it something that, apparently made it flee to another mound, I’m not entirely sure how that works. Either way, the Halfling and the Half-orc decided to follow the thing, to fight it. Both of them managed to make jump across. Despite of there being an absolutely perfect dry, and safe, route to get there, crossing the wooden logs. Drawing my warhammer, I went the long way around. Which apparently didn’t exactly fall well with the Bard, who, just as I was reaching the plant-thing, inspired me to leap at the creature. Ten feet, which I would easily have covered normally, but noooo, someone had to be picky about it. Didn’t see himself in the fray, but not minding sending others into danger? Seems like something a ruthless commander would do. I’ll keep in mind to whack him a bit around later.

Both the paladin and the Halfling had their troubles with the large thing, it’s large vine-arms seemed like living clubs. Meanwhile, the rest of our band tried to deal damage from afar. I say tried, because it wasn’t really effective. With a shrug, I swung my hammer against the mass, it did hit, but as I halfway expected, it didn’t do much. You don’t cut trees down with a hammer, you use an axe. Sadly, I didn’t bring one. The thing lifted both “arms” at me, I readied myself for the attack. Stung like crazy, and suddenly I found myself being lifted upwards, and before I could react, I was the one being digested inside the plant monster. There was no air, and i could feel the sludge sting and burn, trying to dissolve me. I kept my breath, when you’ve been in the depths of a mine, you know that the air is bad. It was a while since I had last been in a mine, good times though, but some things never truly leave you. I could hear the sounds of struggle, my travel mates were trying to slay the thing. They weren’t exactly being quick about it. I would have to endure a little longer. I tried to push myself out, but to no avail at first, my strength was failing me. My fate… was it to end by a bush? No glory in that, this was no Necromancer in black armour on a horse, no fire-breathing Dragon… this… a PLANT, should be the end of me? It’d be a lie, that much I’d tell you.

With a forceful push, I managed to get myself out, with no help from anyone at all. Still holding both shield and warhammer, I was back, and it was time to whack this overgrown piece of weed into submission. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Tiefling somehow turn into a plant in a ceramic pot. Which pretty much sums up how useful everyone except the Halfling and the Half-orc was being. I gave a couple of swings to the swamp-creature, the first one struck clean, but I must have gotten some sludge in my eye, as the other one missed completely. Eventually we managed to bring the plant-monster into a state of “no longer alive”. Meanwhile, the knights had tended to the person, and brought him back to life. An Elf. No wonder he’d have trouble getting himself out of the plant, Elves are all smooth legs and skin, not much in terms of strength. I began wiping myself off, the strings holding my beard in braids and my hair in a knot, had been dissolved. Didn’t feel like my beard had taken damage though. I began sieving through the plant remains, I found an odd leather pouch. I opened it and saw some documents of some kind, without taking them out for further inspection. Something inside me, told me it belonged to the Elf, and as he was alive, that would be considered as stealing. Had he died, it’s contents would have been mine, a little something for my troubles. Instead, I handed the pouch to the Half-orc, who seemed having little trouble digging through the pouch, though she didn’t actually take anything. The Elf, apparently from a place somewhere southwest of the mire, claimed to be a courier.

With that over with and done, we ventured further east and north, still only clinging to the foot of the mountains. I couldn’t wait to be out of the mire, to feel safe amongst dry rocks. We followed the stream of the river, and eventually the water turned from green and brown to a more clear blue. We halted by a lake, a much needed bath as opportune here. And I wasn’t alone in that thought… Even though I was the only one who had actually experienced something that needed a washing. One of the myths about Dwarves, that I’ve heard, is that Dwarves despise water. As a drink, it’s true. But Dwarves take showers too, some are actually pretty decent swimmers, not me though, and freshly caught fish, simmering in a mead-sauce, is quite the treat indeed. I turned my back to the group as I got out of my chain-mail and dark-green garments, placing them in a neat bundle near the shore, along with the rest of my gear; my backpack, crossbow, warhammer and shield. The water was cold, but refreshing, it was quite pleasant.

But not all pleasantries last, with this group I find that they rarely do. Suddenly that Tiefling rushed, bare-naked as the day he was born, out of the water, faster than Goblin realising all his mates are dead, and he’s going to be next. The others also got out of the water, though I’m not sure if they were chasing by, or spooked by the Tiefling screaming. What an obnoxious person indeed.

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…