The Northlands Saga

Session 4 ; Vol's Tale

After the narrow escape in the library we decided it best to rest and heal our many wounds. The hardy Cleric once again put his strange spell to use and had his many imps build us a camp in a dark corner amongst the musty, decaying tomes. Whilst this was afoot I decided to search the corridor ahead for the last thing we needed at this moment was another attack upon our beings. Dara the Ranger and I inched forwards into the gloom and soon a sturdy door hove into view. A quick check revealed some very strange markings – claws if I wasn’t mistaken. Tordeck our Cleric joined us and so did the strange malevolent being called Makros the Black. Dara checked the door for traps, found none and grasped the handle only to find the door well and truly locked. Makros spotted something beneath the door that shone oddly and soon in his hand he held a thin wafer-like leaf. ‘Leaf !’ snorted the Cleric ‘Tis no leaf but the scale of a brass dragon’. What was a dragon doing in a library ? We were certainly not ready to find out so retired for the night to the magical camp our friend had conjured.
A hearty sleep saw us rise fresh and healed of injuries at a very early time of the morning. We decided to try the mysterious door again. Could it be behind here that the stone we sought lay ? Gods be true and we could be rid of this foul place and its filthy vermin. It took some hammering from us all to weaken the door’s resistance and the hapless Dara, in his haste for adventure, smashed his way through only to find no floor lay waiting on the other side, only a ten foot drop to the rubbish strewn ground outside. After the laughter from the rest of the party subsided we made our way back out the library and picked our colleague up from the dusty ground. Thankfully only his pride was injured.
To make ammends he began to track us a safe passage through the town for it was decided that we head for the slum area in our quest. As we passed hovel after hovel a door suddenly opened and one of those disgusting wretches of a creature, a Kobold, appeared. Makros immediately began to itimidate it and such was his prowess at this art the creature quickly became a gibbering wreck. Slick, for that was the name it went by revealed that two more of its race lay behind the door. Makros had an unusual penchant to take the thing as a pet, no doubt some mischief was forming in his mind, and he quickly leashed the poor wretch which began to bark and whine like a common dog. We decided to investigate Slick’s friends. When I say ‘investigate’ I really mean slaughter. They heeded not a word of caution from us so I quickly disintegrated one with an Eldritch Blast, a handy spell my adoptive father had taught me to use when I was a boy. Our fighter Tagar the dwarf cleaved the other’s skull in just as quick a time. Whilst we had been engaged in this unseemly fracas we had not heard the door being locked and bolted nor had we heard the scrambling of feet outside. We were trapped !
We soon smashed our way out thanks to the iron axe of the sturdy dwarf. Taking battle-formations our two melee experts rushed out to meet the expected attack. A kobold ambush had been set. The gall of those dogs ! Missiles of excrement and rusted nails were launched and both our comrades were hurt. Dara and I rushed out into the fray and soon the four of us were hacking and slashing and throwing bolts of energy here and there. I recount here that four of us despatched the Kobolds for Makros the Black stayed in the hovel and strangled his new pet. They say pets are for life but Makros’ plaything lasted not an hour.
Moving on we now reached a network of warrens and broken streets, remnants from the human occupation of the town some years previously. We spotted a ward above the road so Dara took us on a different route just to be sure. Alas that route led us to another encounter but bouyed by our recent success we were spoiling for a fight. Two iron-clad dog creatures were waiting accompanied by a small kobold waving a wand. Another sorceror ? The dogs proved fearsome opponents and soon we were engaged in a fight that was difficult to read as to which way it would swing. Tagar took many hits and was soon swaying on his feet, the blood pouring down from beneath his helm. Dara had been tainted with a liquid thrown by the kobold and it was not clear what its use was for until much later in the fight. I managed to slay a dog whilst the Cleric battled vainly to heal Tagar. The lunatic Makros, for that is surely the best description I can label him, decided to throw a ranged spell at the remaining dog which would have been fine if Tagar was not in his field of fire. The dog perished and Tagar hit the cobbles like a puch-drunk orc in a bar-room brawl.It was then that the source of the Ranger’s liquid discomfort was revealed. An ankheg, a giant beetle dug itself out of the earth behind us and began to chase Dara around the streets. Tordeck managed to stabalise Tagar so that he would live to fight another day and the rest of us finished off the beetle. Sadly Makros survived with barely a scratch but methinks the dwarf will have something else to say on that matter. Our opponents dead we searched for the spoils of war; gold pieces, a nice gem and most interestingly a wand of Frost. As I studied this last item an idea formed in my mind to study this area of the magical arts…


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