Stradia: The Fourth War - Chapter 1 Cont "The North Falls"

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

Xivven looked up from what she had in her hands. It was a neat little ball of hard-packed dirt that melted into her hands like clean putty. Her concentration broken, the dirt cracked and dissolved into tiny grains and poured through her fingers onto the ground.

"Hmmm? I'm sure you would enjoy a little fun after being withdrawn from the last battle. Make it a quick and clean matter. We do not want to draw too much attention, or waste too much time. What say you, Lieutenant Alexander? This detour will help relax the team."

[Aieris]

After the conclusion of the meeting, and with no choice but to follow Gorn's instructions, Aieris busied herself with preparations for the journey they would take. She would have to pick up the arrows she had ordered, secure herself a horse, and then sleep.

As she walked through the heavily trodden streets towards the blacksmith she had visited earlier, she wondered why her plans kept being distracted. First the war, then the ceremony for the dead at the church, then this meeting, and now having to leave to fetch some batch of priests away from their sanctuary of prayer, fastidiousness, and who knows what else.

At the blacksmith, she had to argue over the cost of her new arrows. Seven silver and three copper pieces for twenty shoddily made arrows. And the bloody fat aproned fool wouldn't accept that she was on a mission directly from the elder or whatnot of the village.

As she left the blacksmiths with her quiver full and her money pouch running surprisingly low, she gave up on the horse. If these military fools wanted her to help then, then they had better provide her with something to ride. And she would be asking for pay now too, retroactive to the previous battle. If she had to play in silly wars to find her parents, then she would at least do so in some sort of affluence.

Returning to her room in the inn, she collapsed grumpily on the lumpy bed. As she closed her eyes and rolled around trying to sleep, she figured she would nap, then see the innkeeper about food. And a bath. Definitely a bath, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. Definitely a bath.

[TheBlindMime]

Mid-morning, Day 53

Loki managed to hold the bright smile on his face but inwardly his heart sank and as the others dispersed to their business his shoulders fell as well. It was as the nothingness said, Loki had no one.

He arrived at his home and workplace just as the real bustle had begun, his men were hard at work, many of whom were confused by the claims of their free workmanship. Loki promptly threatened to seriously maim any man who asked for more then a smile from the customers from that point forward. "Any man who lays his life on the line cannot be expected to pay for the scratches in his armour!" Loki bellowed to the blacksmithy's.

They promptly agreed, until a bit later when there was some confusion. Bruno stepped into the entryway of the forge to find Loki polishing his armor, Loki had been somewhat enjoying the silence of the normally boisterous forge. The men were more focused and determined today, Loki wasn't sure what but he had no mind to point it out lest he ruin the mood. "Sir, where do we keep the arrows?"

"Arrows?! We are not fletchers Bruno!" Bruno was a bit on the slow side.

"But sir, a woman outside demands them and refused to listen when I said just that."

Loki scratched his chin at that. "Alright, run to the fletchers and return with some arrows."

"Yes si-"

"And lad, make sure to git enough cash from the lassie to buy the gents a meal!" After the procurement of the arrows, then the trade to seven silver and three coppers Bruno purchased boar meat for the Blacksmith's. The men stopped work long enough to enjoy the meal properly. Oddly enough for the heavy eating group there were extra hocks of meat, Loki looked around to find a few of his tradesman were missing, he was about to ask about it when he realized the missing men were all part of the militia as well.

No one spoke of the missing men and continued to work in silence. As a tribute to the men Loki finished the remaining boar meat himself despite how stuffed he was, since he wasn't used to seconds. It was delicious.

Evening, Day 53

Loki stepped out of the forge covered in sweat and soot, yet he felt remarkably refreshed, much more so then after his sleepless night. He heard a ponies neigh in the distance followed with some gentle cooing. He moved to the nearby stable to find Terrance with Vulni, "What are you doing there laddie?"

"Feeding Vulni." Terrence replied as if speaking was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Y'know I do that." Loki smiled.

"Then why haven't you?" Terrence replied again from his far away place.

"..." Loki stood in silence, he had forgotten all about Vulni ever since the mention of the Venurian raiding party the day before. They stood in silence for more then a few minutes before Terrence turned around and finally acknowledged Loki with a look.

"She needs to be let out of the stable, you can't hide her here forever you know."

"I know lad.... I know." Loki had felt guilty about a lot of things in his life, this feeling seemed to top them all.

Dawn, Day 54

Loki sat atop his proud mare pony Vulni clad in leather pants and a linen shirt, his hammers dangled brightly at his belt loops, though he was too busy admiring his new cloak to notice them. "By gods Penn, never have I had a cloak so finely cut to my size. You shoulna gone to the trouble."

[Azisien]

Alexander gazed in the direction of the farm. It was still out of sight, but the anticipation of fresh Kenshurian blood spilled enticed him. "If we are out of range of Gole's defenses, there is no reason not to begin our pillaging here. Leave no prisoners, and only set fire to the buildings when we are leaving. Smoke could attract attention, but we will be long gone by then, if we time it right."

The two lieutenants gave their authorization, much to the delight of the huge predators before them. The two hunters dispersed and relayed the new orders to the other gargoyles in the raiding party. Several minutes passed, and already the group was hugging the forest edge once more, but this time in preparation for attack.

Eventually, the farm came into view. It wasn't particularly large. A central homestead, large enough for a family of ten or more, expanded outwards via dirt paths into the fields. Very near the house was a barn. The fields to the south, east, and west were blanketed by a sea of wheat, while the northern field was a grazing area for livestock. Even from a good distance, it was clear the farmers owned several cattle and horses. All in all, it was a fairly well-to-do home for anyone.

Cautiously, the Venurian hunters moved closer and closer. The lead hunter, again with the permission of his two lieutenants, dispatched two of his stealthiest to scout out the land ahead.

******

Outside the Northern Gate of Gole

Oyo made sure to dabble some extra blood on his clothes, and helped carry Ariosto towards the gate. It didn't take long before the spotters saw the pair and alerted the archers along the wall. "These defenses are a good stretch better than Socre, and even Ateria. Looks like wood, though. Kenshuria seems to be afraid of metal." Oyo glanced around, and added to his own comments. "Well, not that this area looks ripe for a quarry, I guess all will be forgiven when we burn it to the ground."

"Halt!" A human or elven guard atop the gate archway yelled at them from about one hundred and fifty feet away. Several archers had their bows trained on them.

Oyo yelled back. "Please! My friend here needs healing, his leg has been battered!" To Ariosto he said quietly. "Put on a good act now."

A few cries of pain later, and the two were allowed to move closer to the gate, though it wasn't opened immediately.

"Where have you come from? Who are you and why have you come to Gole?" The head gate guard interrogated from atop the wall.

"As I watched my village get destroyed by the Venurians I figured fleeing to Gole was the best idea at the time...I got lost. My name is Robert and this is Abe. Sorry, Abraham. I found him alive at a battlefield not far from here. His leg is smashed, he needs a doctor!" All the while Oyo spoke, Ariosto moaned, cried, and even weeped from the pain. The lieutenant was pretty sure it wasn't an act.

"You don't sound like a local, where did you say you fled from?" The guard replied.

Oyo suppressed the urge to curse. Of course, both of them had Venurian accents. He was about to open his mouth again when the archers along the wall tightened the strings on their bows. They didn't fire immediately, so he further suppressed the urge to reach for his concealed weapons and take out a few of them before fleeing. With his leg so damaged, Oyo wondered if Ariosto could escape this situation if it turned violent, even with his magic.

One of the spotters ran up beside the head guard and they exchanged words. The spotter pointed, and Oyo couldn't suppress his third urge: he turned around to look at what they were pointing at. A woman was running at a fast pace down the hill. After only a matter of seconds she reached the two Venurian spies and stopped, a little winded. She was an elf, with short fiery red hair and matching, peculiar red eyes. From her lean, youthful appearance, she looked to be in her forties or fifties. The elf smiled at the two spies before her, but then frowned when she saw Ariosto's leg.

"Is she with you as well...Robert?" The guard yelled down.

Oyo couldn't come up with a reply before, surprisingly, the elf did. Her voice was pleasant. "Excuse me sirs! I am not with Robert, he is with me! I fled the Socre siege as well and I found him wandering the countryside aimlessly. We got a little separated this morning when we found the battlefield..." There was a long pause, the elf squinted and perked up a little. "Yourk, is that you?"

One of the archers lowered his bow and seemed to look hard back. He didn't call back, though. Instead, the archer moved to his commanding officer and they exchanged words. After a few more moments, the head guard shouted to the trio. "It seems one of my men knows you, Miss Aven. I apologise for our suspicions, but there's a war on, and the Venurians are near. Open the gate!"

As the heavy wooden gate creaked open, the elf motioned to the Venurian pair. "Come on, maybe we can still catch breakfast!"

******

Outside the Western Gate of Gole

One by one, all of the men and women assigned to travel to the Temple of Avelia arrived. When they didn't have mounts, stablehands waited with a horse and provided it to them, complete with simple travel packs, a waterskin, and trail rations. When everyone in the group had arrived and retrieved a horse, they made off at a casual trot in silence.

******

Two hours later, the farm near Gole

The gargoyle spear skewered one of the horses in the pasture, pinning it to the ground and killing it instantly. With all of the horses slain, the humans, elves, or dwarves would have no means of escape against the deadly and speedy hunters. Xivven and Alexander stood back and watched from part way up the western dirt path as their hunters stalked through the wheat fields, doing what they had been raised to do. The only difference now was that they hunted Kenshurian livestock and men alike. Already several farmhands had been slain, and there had been no obvious sign of alarm.

Alarm finally came, however, when a man limped out of the homestead and spotted one of his dead companions. Although the man hadn't been injured by any weapon, he appeared to be recovering from a broken leg. He screamed and ran into the house. Alexander made a disappointed snorting noise, as if he had never expected them to get spotted at all.

******

The farm outskirts

The fellowship had made good progress so far. Gole Forest was close, and the temple would not be very far afterwards. At that rate, and assuming the priests showed no hesitation, they could be back in Gole by late evening.

But fate would not have the Kenshurian heroes hold their rate so steady. Abruptly, thick black smoke erupted from one of the buildings by the farm, about one mile away.

******

The militia barracks in Gole

Sergeant Ereagus took a bite out of the piece of bread he was holding as he shouted commands sporadically to his men. He looked back at Oyo. "So, Robert, you're from Socre? You look healthy though, can you work?"

Oyo, finding no excuse to consider himself unhealthy, nodded.

"Good. Get to the western wall and grab yourself a shovel. This trench isn't going to dig itself! Get a move on, whelp!"

Oyo really didn't like being called a whelp, but he disliked even more the prospect of digging a trench he would at some point have to cross. Still, he saluted his "commanding officer" and proceeded out of the barracks and in the western direction. He had very little intention of actually carrying out his orders, however.

--------------------------------------------

OOC: Combat is highly probable for some of you. The fellowship is of course all the good guys, I didn't use any of you by name is all. If you get closer to the farm you will notice the Venurians and the remaining farmers fighting/fleeing/getting slaughtered. The barn is the building on fire, which you would also notice if you get closer.

Gargoyle Archers: Ranged II
Gargoyle Hunters: Melee II/Ranged II

Of course, you could all just ignore the smoke plume and get to the temple faster.

[TheBlindMime]

Vulni trotted forward happily under her dwarven companion, it had been nearly sixty days since their last true ride, Loki opting only to walk the horse or run her free in one of the larger pens. Vulni loved the feel of the wind over her back as she ran, but this would do.

Loki had been admiring the mighty forest as it grew larger and larger on the horizon until it had almost filled the view from earth to the heavens. It had always been a sight he marveled at, he turned to remark about his fascination with the forest to Penn. To speak about the peace and tranquility of the forest that was so large, to speak truly Loki was a little jealous of Penn's time spent within the forest but Loki had not the skills necessary to be a Border Ranger.

It was however a conversation not meant to be, Loki's emerald eyes shook at the grim visage of smoke pluming up from the farm in the distance. "RAIDERS!" Loki cried as he kicked Vulni into motion and began his charge towards the farm.

Vulni loved it, despite the urgency in the call she was riding free now. Far beyond the mild trot she had been keeping, now she could really stretch out her powerful legs. Her sprint carried them to the farms fence within moments, though she stood no chance of leaping over them.

The time to run up the true farm path was too long, Loki could not afford to waste that much time. Drawing Abel into his hand he turned Vulni from the fence and charged alongside it. "RARGH!", with a single mighty swing downward Loki had shattered the fence apart. Pivoting Vulni into a tight circle he pointed her towards the now open path and the two charged in. Cutting a path through the tall wheat Loki could now hear the tortured screams of farmers in the distance, he kicked Vulni once more to push her harder now, meanwhile Loki began whispering an ancient spell to himself.

Vulni couldn't see anything, by the time the wheat parted before her all she could see was more wheat. Loki beckoned for more speed and the mare dug deep and gave the speed to her master.

As Loki finished the incantation but before the power of the Bear he had called upon could well within him, Vulni reached a small clearing in the field. A single Gargoyle stood there, he had heard them coming and struck Loki with the side of his lance. Loki was a much heavier target then the gargoyle had expected however and the two fell over in a heap. The two fighters punched each other frantically in the tight quarters, but soon one of the fighters had a clear advantage, his strength far outweighing his opponents. With a savage snap of his opponents neck Loki let out a frenzied bellow, his eyes now a dark brown, his hair a dark black, he had grown at least a foot in height and his hands were now clawed and covered in black fur as was the rest of his body.

He put Abel back in its holder, grabbed up the dead gargoyles spear and charged towards the closest scream. A mother desperately clung to her child not more then 20 feet from Loki's current position, Loki could hear the Gargoyle's cold snicker as he raised his bow to the prone victims. Loki's spear tip caught the beast at his hip, and raised him into the air, in his panic the gargoyle let the arrow fly. It buried itself just above the woman who screamed in surprise as much as terror.

Drawing the spear back he let the gargoyle fall to the ground, who in turn lied prone upon the floor clutching his wound. He began to say something but Loki never heard him, he just drove the spear into his chest through the armor, once, twice and then a third time until all the came out of the gargoyles mouth was blood. Loki only glanced over at the woman and babe to see if they still drew breath before charging through the path cut by the gargoyle, it led straight to another.

This one cackled as well, having not heard his companions stifled screams. His face contorted from joy to agony as Loki swung the spear into his knee like he was using a club. The spear's shaft shattered as did the gargoyle's knee, the gargoyle fell to his other knee and screamed in agony. Not being one to miss an opportunity Loki spun the spear in his hand to get it tip forward then drove it into the gargoyles mouth and out the back of his skull.

As the third gargoyle Loki faced fell limply to the earth Loki stepped out of the wheat field with an appearance of a regal and powerful beast dressed in the clothes of a man. He let out a mighty roar which sounded more akin to a bear then a dwarf, nearby archers who had been picking off easy targets now had to make a choice between the easy targets they had been sniping or saving their own lives. Loki helped inspire their prompt decision to face him by charging forward with his hammers in hand.

****

Vulni sprinted back and forth in spirals within the wheat field, where was Loki, where was anything? She was lost, alone and very frightened.

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

"Hmm... Is there really a choice?" Xivven murmured to herself as she watched three of her hunters go down in less than a moment's breath. Anger flashed in her fierce eyes, and the tattoos spiralling down her arms glowered in similar fashion. Somewhere deep in her mind, she knew this would've happened sooner or later. She didn't realise however the quickness in the response of help arriving. Cursing the bad luck silently, Xivven caught eye contact with the nearest gargoyle hunter and indicated they should withdraw. Now.

Playtime was over.

Reluctantly, the gargoyle nodded and let out a guttural shout, a signal that was used many times in hunting times to instantly disperse. Xivven could see a flurry of movements as gargoyles slithered through the wheat field with ease. Out in the distance, a horse ran nervously around in circles, causing Xivven's lips to curl.

So the rescue party had a horse? Not anymore.

Xivven - from her vantage point and concealed by nearby forestry - stepped out briefly, raising her right arm in the process. She gestured in a circular motion, the celtic markings on her fingers glowing a deep, angry red for a moment before suddenly...

Fire instantly ignited upon the wheat field. Needing only the slightest coaxing, the hungry flames spread like a rapid wall of death. Xivven swept her arms outwards, and the fire responded, leaping into a wide line that swept towards the farmhouse and towards Loki and his lone horse.

Xivven fed power into the hungry fire, drawing it out, making the fire burn hotter and higher. With a shoving motion that brought a slight bead of sweat onto her forehead, the fire accelerated, consuming everything in its path.

This should give enough time for the hunters to get the hell out of there and rendezvous at their last safe point. Xivven stepped back through the forest edge, letting the now-wild and raging wheat fire take its toll.

[Lumenskir]

Normally, Ariosto would have questioned the motives of a mysterious elf with sympathetic tendencies, but his leg had been reduced to piecemeal and he was no longer immune to the toll. As she allowed the Venurian pair to enter, Ari made a mental note to keep an eye out, after the pain subsided.

No sooner had they entered did Ari and Oyo find themselves seperated. Ariosto was descended upon by worried soldiers, done trying to weed out potential threats, now worried about one of their own in trouble.

Amidst flashes of clear sight in a haze of overpowering pain, Ari noticed he was being carried into a place he would normally look upon with a layer of disgust, but this dwelling of Avelia could be spared his scorn, at least for the time being. Once inside the church, the priests slowly shook off their early morning sloth and set themselves upon Ari and his condition.

"Prepare a fresh bed, this soldier needs us!" The current leader of the abode set the priests of the light goddess to work, and soon the Venurian found himself the target of Kenshurian hospitality at its most gracious. As he was prayed over, his weakended frame was propped into a cot in the healing hall, and his clouded mindset began to be cleared. As light poured into his ruined leg, erasing the self-imposed damage, Ariosto began to take stock of the situation. The leader would be too hard a target, too entrenched in the teachings of his deity to be overcome by anything less than a dedicated session, a luxury Ari didn't have in this foreign location. Even the middlemen of the church would be too risky, the slightest changes noticed by both spectrums.

And then Ari picked out his newest charge. Hanging in the back of the concerned crowd, holding a damp towel. Ari thought himself a good judge of character, and the boy had all the signs of the easily led; forced into asceticism by overly pushy parents or lack of worldly options, twisting his mind would simply be a matter of changing a few key word for the enchanter. And who would stoop down to notice the recent eccentricities of an unsure young priest-to-be? Ari merely had to await the time to take action...preferably after he could form coherent thoughts without the crutch of Avelia's embrace.

[Mintaro]

The ride had been wonderfully relaxing. The powerful warhorse beneath him wasn't the kind meant for this type of leisurely jaunt, and he made it known constantly with his attempts to gain speed. But Penn was an experienced rider and gave no slack to the impatient mount. The conversation was quiet and pleasant. People talking of home and what family they had. Penn's many stories of his days as a Border Ranger held as much attention as Graeme's stories about the Long patrol.

Loki seemed particularly interested in the intricacies of the forest so Penn named out tree's they passed and pointed to animal tracks when they were present.

Then the smell of smoke filled the air. Loki spotted the plumes first

Originally Posted by Loki

"RAIDERS!" Loki cried as he kicked Vulni into motion and began his charge towards the farm.

Penn was not far behind. Kicking his heels to his warhorse it leaped forward its powerful legs tearing up the earth beneath it. He quickly out distanced Loki and was over the fence without the knowledge of his allies temporary stop. Heeling his horse to the left he charged along the border of the crops. Wanting to come at the house from straight on, to give his allies a chance to make a more stealthy approach. He heard the surprised gutteral shouts of Gargoyles as they saw the massive beast with its nimble rider coming up the path towards the farm house. In the distance the tortured screams of burning animals came from the farm.

Gargoyles quickly took up bows and began to fire at the advancing enemy. Penn pulled out his sword and stood up in the stirrups holding tight to the reins with one hand he wielded his sword deftly. Knocking away arrows as they came. He quickly cut down the distance enough that the enemies switched over to spears. The creatures jumped mightily into the air, descending quickly upon Penn. "FOR KENSHURIA!" The battle cry ripped from Penn's throat before he knew it was coming. The two Gargoyles made to descend directly onto his mount, and skewer him. They were however not to be so lucky. Penn pulled the reins up sharply making his mount slow down. Penn shifted his weight backwards so as not to be thrown off. His mount reared up, lashing out with its front hooves. It caught one Gargoyle in the chest sending him hurtling backwards. In great pain but still alive. The second was caught in the shoulder, a loud snap indicating its breaking.

These beasts were not weak warriors however. They were quickly on their feet and after their quarry. The one with the broken shoulder was still close and attacked first. Attacking with its off hand expertly. It clearly knew how to use its weapon. Penn was faster however. His blade singing through the air and knocking the spear tip away again and again. Finding openings to slice the beastial warrior.

To his right he saw the field light up. The fire spreading at an unnatural rate. Making a vicious parry he knocked the Gargoyles good arm out wide. Then drove his blade home, deep into the chest of his enemy. The creature fell immediately no sound emanating from its gaping mouth. Then came the second one. Penn ducked just in time for one of the spears to graze his shoulder. The throw would have caught him in the chest had he not moved at just the right moment. The Leather was split and his skin burned. Likely it was cut as well. The spears had wicked blades on them.

The gargoyle took up another spear and advanced. He eyed the horse more warily now. Not wanting to take a second kick. In fact he eyed it much to heavily for Penns taste. He was able to block the spear thrust just in time to save his mount. The soul less Venurian was attacking his mount. They clearly lacked any sense of morals. The gargoyle grabbed a spear in both hands. Laughing uproariously as he began to attack with both of them. Penn was hard pressed to protect both himself and his mount. His sword danced quickly but the gargoyle was a skilled warrior as well.

He got small cuts into the horse flesh twice. Nothing deep enough to cause permanent damage but infuriating none the lest. Another jab came into Penns left arm. He was considering buying himself a shield. Finally though the wooden haft of a spear shattered under Penns parries. Leaving only one weapon to deal with. Not wasting any time Penn leaped from his mount onto the massive gargoyle. Knocking it to the ground with a knee to the beasts chest. Hitting the sore spot that he had been kicked in earlier. They both hit the ground in a tumble. The Gargoyle writing in pain and Penn moving in for the kill. The sword finally met flesh and dug in deep into Penns enemy. They gargoyle thrashed for a moment and then lay still. Pulling free his blade he looked about.

The remaining gargoyles were beginning to retreat towards the woods. Penn wanted to let them go, Hopefully he would be able to save some of the Farmers left here. The fire had now spread over the field. Where he could hear the tortured screams of an animal within. Turning around he case a healing spell onto his horse to mend its wounds. Penns could heal naturally but his mount needed to be at full strength to carry him.

[TheBlindMime]

Loki charged into the sprinting gargoyles which easily outmaneuvered his angry and vengeful strikes. It wasn't until he felt the sudden change in the winds that he saw the fires. From only a glance Loki could tell the fires burned unnaturally, they were burning hotter and faster then any normal fire, had he invested his sweat and tears into this field he would have wept.

Then he heard the scream, the panicked scream of a woman he'd left lying prone in a field with her babe in hand. Sprinting back to the field and letting loose of his Bearform he charged headlong into the small passage of stomped wheat. The heat was nigh unbearable, in a way it was fortunate the womans leg had been broken by a gargoyle as she hadn't moved far from where Loki had left her. Hefting her upon his shoulder he sprinted out just as the fire took to the path.

As he stepped out of the inferno that had been a harvest ready field but a moment ago. Then he heard the call that had haunted his dreams since the first day tidings of war reached his ears. Vulni screamed in agony and horror, as her confusion spun her into deeper circles of the fire.

"No...." Loki charged to the edge of the fire, the heat it was as mighty as any forge fire he had stoked maybe more so. Then the call from within grew weaker, "VULNI!" The sound of her scream was gone now, silenced by the roar of the flames. There was nothing Loki could do.

"AAAUUURRGGGHGGHGGGH!" He cursed the heavens themselves, drawing out his two hammers he struck them above his head, again and again. The shrill metal din rang out even into the forest as Loki screamed, "My hammers will seek you out Virnuran! Seek you out! I will crush you! Damn you, damn all of you!" All of his enemies were long gone now, leaving Loki with little more then anger and a few stray corpses.

Loki looked at the body at his feet, a gargoyle archer who drew breath till the moment they crossed paths. In a feat of strength fitting any dwarf, Loki grabbed the limp corpse, lifted above his head and cast it into the flames. As he watched the corpse burn he muttered a promise to himself under his breath. "I will kill him. I will kill the man who took your life Vulni, I swear it."

[Barahad]

Following the end of the meeting, Graeme went to the Temple of Avelia: partly to pray, and partly to get someone to look at the burns on his arm. The prayer helped anchor him in his duty for the next day, and the priest attending to him slathered a heavy ointment on the burns. He warned Graeme that the healing would likely cause the skin to become itchy and tingly, and that he was to refrain from scratching: it would only exacerbate the problem.

So it was with some discomfort that Graeme donned his armour the next day. He set aside his stained tabard, for he felt that it would make him rather conspicuous in Gole's forest, and concentrated on keeping his right arm away from the wounds on his left. They itched like a thousand midge bites, but this was better than the alternative. Strapping his sword about his waist, he seized his battle-scarred shield and made for the staging ground from which the company would be making for the temple.

His own horse dead, it would be necessary to use one of Gole's mounts. He frowned: he would have to learn the peculiarities of his new steed as they rode. There was too little time for rider and mount to become properly acquainted. He could only hope that his mount had been well-trained.

Upon arriving at the staging area, he was greeted by two militiamen. One of them passed him the reins of a proud horse with a deep, strong chest, straight legs, and well-shod feet. There was fire in this one: Graeme could appreciate that. The second militiaman passed him basic supplies: while he had recovered much from his slain steed, he had been forced to abandon much of his food.

The ranger, Penn, then approached and handed him a mottled cloak with a few words on its proper use: the broken patterns were a mixture of greens, greys, browns and blacks. It was heavy material, and strongly made. Clasping the cloak around his throat, Graeme moved gingerly in the cloak, experimenting with his range of motion and the cloak's direction of travel. He found it a strange sensation, and decided that in heavy combat he would be forced to remove it in order to better fight.

As the company assembled, Graeme made a silent assessment of his companions as they arrived: each had proved their courage in yesterday's battle, but he knew little else about their characters. The ranger seemed to carry himself with a certain eagerness; the dwarf seemed...sad and determined; the lady elf, Aieris, perpetually annoyed; the priest somewhat uncertain; the young militiaman, Bentis, surprisingly calm; and the other lady elf, Ishva, serene but alert. Graeme briefly wondered how he struck his companions, but put that thought aside as the others began mounting their steeds. He placed his left leg firmly in the stirrup and swung himself up and over, coming to rest comfortably on his horse's back. Without further ado, and with very little spoken amongst themselves, they moved off out the gate, heading for the dark smudge of the Gole forest, and the temple hidden amongst its tangled branches.

As the miles rolled away, the tongues of the company loosened, and Graeme soon found himself under polite interrogation about his life in the Long Patrol. Even as he kept a sharp eye on the horizon, he dredged up tales from his long apprenticeship and some of the more ancient (and spectacular) tales of the Long Patrol's exploits, including a fifteen year adventure involving ship-wrecked knights and the island kingdom they helped found defend before finally returning to Kenshuria to take instructions for their next patrol.

It was about the point where Graeme was describing the beginning of the homeward journey that circumstance interfered: an explosion of fire and black smoke rose on the plains, about a mile from where they rode. The dwarf was the first to make any movements: with an angry roar he threw himself into a head-long charge. As he raced off over the plains, the ranger followed, bellowing loudly. Graeme swore as his horse sought to leap into the chase with them.

Reining it sharply, he turned in nearly a full circle before calling to his remaining companions: "We cannot all race to the rescue of the farmstead! Father Vincent, Ishva, I think it would be wise if you followed our two excitable companions. Healing and martial prowess will be in demand at that homestead. Bentis, lady mage, I believe it would be wise if we continued to the temple to begin the evacuation as quickly as possible. The Venurians are obviously nearer than we might like." Ahead of them, the tilled fields of wheat suddenly erupted into flames which grew quickly into a wall of fire. As they were downwind of the fire, the flames quickly roared and roiled to an inferno sweeping down on the remaining company. Carried on the hot winds of the fire of the fire came the screams of the dead and dying, and Loki's anguished cry.

Wheeling his horse around, Graeme dug his heels into its flanks. The company's first priority was getting upwind of the flames. "Follow me!" The horses, smoke filling their nostrils, and eyes rolling, leapt away: away from the flames, away from the smoke, away from the cause of their fear. The company made a wide arc, taking them well out of their way before halting. Their horses were sweating and terrified, but they were all safe. Now out of immediate danger, Graeme turned back to his companions: "We will meet at the temple. Come as soon as you are able." he turned then to Aieris and Bentis. "We should hurry our pace. The sooner we arrive the better, I think."