Night of Terror in the Gloom Woods

[SiliconMagician]

Bards travelling the roads in the area around Ft. Vehl have been telling tales of a party of brave adventurers besieged within the walls of camp in the Gloom Woods along with Riam and his men.

The tales speak that a great evil befell the Gloom, as an army of undead, led by a dark elf cleric, besieged the camp where brave Riam and his men held in check as best they could the undead scourge.

Meanwhile, in Vehl. A party had gathered by mere chance on the roads outside of Vehl and Moreg, brave gate guard of Vehl, informed them of mysterious rumors of unusual numbers and types of undead in the gloom seen recently.

Under the leadership of brave Roferien clergy, the party plunged into the Gloom to investigate the rumors and were supposedly beset by undead in numbers so great that they had to hack a path through the tides of undead to reach Riam and his men.

The tales then continue to say that on a small nearly barren hilltop the party found itself in a desperate last stand battle against hundreds of zombies and other foul undead.

The party, standing shoulder to shoulder and back to back, were surrounded on all sides.. the screams of the already dead, and those who wished not to join them, echoed throughout the forest.. bringing even more undead to the scene.

There was mention of a great warrior, with a great sword larger than a man, cleaving great gaps in the ranks of the undead. Completely surrounded on all sides.. wading through the throng dealing final rest to the dead. Body parts flew in all directions as his he desperately cleaved them from thier owners merely to stay alive.

Back and forth, the battle flowed across the lonely hill top.. often the party would split.. 2 men to battle dozens of the horrid beasts in a desperate struggle to prevent them from ambushing the party from behind while the rest held back the main body of the undead horde.

Some verses sing of a great guardian mummy being seen in the deepest parts of the woods, commanding powerful magics that ripped the soul from one brave adventurer and left the rest of the party to carry his soul-torn body back to camp to lick its wounds and come up with a new plan of attack.

Finally, the tales record that a dark elven priest was reportedly responsible for the uprising, and was put to the sword.

[Lance Stargazer]

*In the One eye-Harpy the conmotion can be heard *

- I am telling you , good patrons I was there, I saw it with this very eyes,

The forces of darkness amased to supress the light of hope, It was a sight that could have freeze to the boldest of the comon man, - The young red haired story tellers said ina  dramatic tone as he felt was the moment to catch the audience atention.

*Moving his sight to a young lady behind one of the tables he returned his sight to the crowd with a serious gesture, his voice sound deep to add drama to the story. *

Oh yes, Listen , listen to the story of heroes and the triumph of virtue, this humble story teller could not say to be more fortunate to had found such noble group on that time of dire need or else I could have not been able to be here to tell about their exploits. Noblest of heroes sarificing blood and limb for you to sleep tonight. We could do nothing else but to praise for their efforts.

How the forces of light fighths the abominations of the night ? what is the most powerful weapon heroes has at their disposals. What else but the determination, faith, bravery and a heart as pure as a morning spring.

And we could found all those in the group that defeated the evil that night.

Regnar, the self proclaimed wanderer of Mistone, strong as two bulls, and almost as stubborn when defending the right, he stood bravely, never ever a man could see the determination incarnated in the form of man and sword. Edron the sword and light of the Lord Protector, the forces of evil recoiled in his prescence, Milady Tara, nimble and fair and deadly as a shadow in the night. this Crowd would forgive me as this story teller can't do justice to all of the forces amased to figth this evil, An elf all clad in dark robes a master of the blades and nimble as a feline, Master Torroc, inspired singer and great warrior, his tunes sounded over the nigth, his deadly song rhymed with his sword fort the defeat of evil and finally but not at last ,   Rottie the Half ogre with the heart of gold. Protector of the very  people who turned their back to him.

The darkest night arosed over the gloom woods when this story teller was lucky enough to found this fine force, Into the fray they jumped and Then every single shadow came alive and arose towards the road, Our brave heroes stood against every odd, and In that field the blood of the returned dead was mixed with their own, When all hope seemed to be lost at times they never faltered knowing that failure was not an option, that the stake of lives was too much precious to allow them to lose that night.  With steel and spell they fought , for each abomination that fell two more came to the fight, but that never stoped them ,and in the field of honor shinning blades stroke down and brought back the calm .

Then The source of the evil appeared his robe as dark as the magic he used to bring this abominations over the already cursed lands. his magics was powerful,  Even this elocuent Story teller was unable to say a word upon the overwhelming presence that could otherwise have slain in terror to any or you *he makes a cantrip of a dark figure with red eyes and fangs exagerating elven features *

How the forces of light Defeated this overwhelming menace ? amoung all of them Rottie, The half ogre stood for the chalenge. His soul as pure could defeat the darkness and the evil this creature posed, With his migthy sword and no doubt he stood against the enemy inspiring to his allies, I am not sure of how. But my eyes could for a moment saw his migthy sword shinning with the purity of his soul, making the enemy to recoil, And to lay defeated when his allies come to his valiant help.

*he takes a moment closing his eyes giving a dramatic pause *

By then , when we tought the evil was vanquished. From the earth emerged a stench.. And another dark figure appeared with a demon dog, so frightfull was the sight that I could not dare to describe it with words

**he does as well another cantrip with the lights to depecit what he's describing*  

Again the forces of good stood against the devilish abomination, Being this time Torroc the one who deatl with the beast in the mantime the rest fougth bravely to their evil Minions. By song and blade he stood and fought his bleeding muscles not giving up, his inspiration on the faith his friends had put on him.  After an epic battle of hours Torroc slayed the beast .

The heroes were surrounded, The undead had amassed surely attracted by the goodness of their souls. Its well known that the evil forces are so called to try to defeat the goodness in the world, but that would not happen that night.  Armed with righteous cause or heroes made the run forward, charging at the beasts , As a deadly whirlwind they fought as one to put every single soul to rest, And to ensure the safety of the realms.

This my friends Is a real story, I saw and bleed every letter of it,  and I ensure you that even when hope seemed to be lost , They never lost the ligth, That is why they are heroes,

So if you see any of this brave souls, worry not, and feel sure on your surroundings.  

*with a Grin he looks at the crowd , waiting for some trues to get to his hands then give a long drink to his ale *

Now if your mercies allow this story teller to continue, If i haven't bored you too much. Or if the ale from Weezler had not let you too addled. The next story is about a Paladin who's said to have eaten th sun  once ...

**he keep on the story telling during the night *

// This was a small Impromptu ran by Osx, ( Thank you by the way )

I am sorry if i let someone out of it, was unintentional, just trying to add a bit spice to the story.

[SteveMaurer]

The sounds of bardic revelry in the One-eyed Harpy filter outside into Fort Vehl's dock district.   This is not a good place, especially at night.  The stench of rotgut wine, open sewers, and the sea, mix to make Vehl's unique miasma, a smell known to sailors worldwide.  Prostitutes even more desperate than those within the walls, leave little red candles to attract those sailors or any with sufficient coin to buy another meal.

An orphan child, lies sleeping alone in a small dark alley on an enormous black mound of indistinguishable black.  Like hundreds of other homeless children, she is just another whor's unwelcome get, barely more than a toddler, too young to be one herself, at least by a decade.   As she sleeps, the glint of a gold True flashes in her lax fingers whenever a torchbearer passes by, and this draws the attention of a thin sallow man not above stealing money from a baby.

But as he reaches in, the mound moves.   A hand more than a foot wide flashes out and closes completely, vice-like, around the man's neck, throttling him like a chicken.

"Ya jus' decided ya gonna go inta another line a work," an intensely deep voice growls in the moonless black.     "Ain' that right?"

Wordlessly, for lack of breath, the petty thief nods; his head  is being forced up and down by the hand.  Still, he agrees vehemently with the sentiment, truly wishing he'd never stepped into the alley to lift the coin from the child.

"Good, good," the enormous inhuman creature tells him with satisfaction, and the bandit almost cries in relief at the slight reduction in pressure on his windpipe.   It is the last thing he remembers for over a day, as he is suddenly launched headfirst towards a wooden door covering a dark sunken entryway.

After a minute, the door opens.

A trim figure, wrapped head to toe, appears in the pitch black.  Her red eyes look down at the crumpled body of the bandit on her doorstep. Seeing it, she speaks towards the mound.   Her words are cutting.

"If this is the way you prefer to knock on doors, Flambard, I can see why you were excommunicated."

"Good ta meecha too, Peacedancer," Rottie says, using the Common translation of the dark elf's name.    "Sorry 'bout the mess.   I'll dump him someplace more comf'table in a bit."

"Why are you here?" Her question is neither hostile nor welcoming.

"'S Children's Day," the ogre rumbles.  "Always was my favorite holiday.  Presents an' everythin'.    Only time I ever got 'em."

"Children's Day?"  The priestess stares at him in hostile confusion.  "No it's not."

"Yeah, it is," Rottie replies.  "Leas' fer this one."  He looks down at the sleeping girl.   "You can take her in.   She was too young ta be afraid a me, or too hungry ta care."

The priestess looks down, filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.  "We can't," she breathes.   "There are too many, and we have not the resources."

"Thought ya migh' say tha'."  Suddenly another sack appears in the ogre's enormous hand, and is tossed, considerably more gently than the bandit, into the sunken entryway.   It lands with a substantial metallic crunch.

"Figgure tha'll pay fer the kid, an' a few more if yer careful with it."  

The dark elf stands motionless for a few moments, then wordlessly collects the coin, and turns back inside, leaving the door open.

Rottie follows with the child, working hard to squeeze himself in the doorway without disturbing her.

"You can still return to the faith," the priestess tells him once he is inside.  "Put away that evil weapon.   The goddess will take you back."

The ogre smiles grimly.  "Tha' sack a True ya need so much came from my swor'.    Jus' cause I washed all the goun' up bones offa it don' mean it ain' the 'product a violence', leas' against the undead."

"Az'atta is not wrong," the priestess tells him intently.   But neither does she proudly hand the tainted coin back, as some other priestess might, in a less desperate place than the Fort Vehl ministry.

"Yaaaa.  I know," the ogre sighs, as he gently sets the baby down.  "Inna better place, a better time, prob'ly would be hard ta even get a job choppin' things up wid'da sword.    'S jus' I can't live in such a perfec' worl'.   I live in this one."   He stares down intently.  "I think she knows that.  Tha's why, though I tried ta be the bes' Az'attan I could, I don' think I ever felt her.    Not fer real."

"Try," the priestess urges, suppressing sudden inexplicable tears.

Obediently, Rottie sets himself down before the small shrine of the goddess, an elegant statue carved from obsidian.   He meditates for a while, breathing silently.   But nothing comes.

"Goddess, yer prob'ly not even listenin'," he finally says, closing his eyes.    "I'm not mad at ya like Argos, an' I don' feel betrayed like Ty."  He gathers himself.  "An' I even unnerstand ya, I think.   Ya was a Ca'Duzite.  Ya did.... terrible things.   Unspeakable.    An' ya enjoyed it."  He pauses to consider.     "Ya haveta live with those memories forever an' ever, cause yer immortal now.   An' ya prob'ly don' wan' nobody close ta ya who even remin's ya a those days, a what ya were, which is why ya don' wan' me."

"So 's okay."   He takes off his holy amulet, and looks at it.  "But I do gotta say this....  I woulld'da made a real good undead slayer in yer service.   Not hurtin' a livin' thing."

But when he gets up, stooping in the low basement shrine, he does not put the holy symbol back on, but instead hands it over to the priestess.

"Give this ta the baby on the real Children's Day," he says.   "She probl'ly won' get many presents, even if ya do take care a her."

The priestess nods, and the ogre carefully closes the door behind him as he leaves.

"Merry Children's Day," he says from outside, and disappears into the night.

[Dezza]

// Just to keep it all together
*Upon returning to the town and parting company at the docks, each member of the band bidding the other fair well Edron makes his way gingerly to the Temple of Rofirien. His recent actions against the undead having taken their toll on his body and rest would be required soon after more important duties were tended to.

Upon entering the Temple he makes his way through the throngs of worshippers and adherants, past the beggers and poor, dispersing a few of the meagre coins he carried and through to the offices of the lower clergy.  Seeking one particular office, that of Protector Odroin, he knocked softly on the door. Moments later a word from inside bid him to enter which he did so.

Once inside the sparsly furnished office of the head of the Initiates Edron crossed the room and bowed respectfully to a man who was until recently one of his former teachers at the Temple.

"Protector I have come to report a terrible even that has occured outside of Fort Vehl deep in the Gloom Woods. (He continued with an in depth report before the Protector who listened calmly until he had finished.)"

"And you are certain the threat has been dealt with Edron?"

Edron nodded but then added, "While I do believe the threat is ended at this time I am concerned at how easily they were able to do this. The Forest has long been a concern for the corruption there and no one I have asked has been able to adequately explain why we have not done something about it permanently."

Protector Orion sighed and leaned back into his chair causing it to creak under his sturdy frame. "Edron there are many things you will come to learn and know as you venture in the world. In this you must realise we can only do that which we are allowed or bidden to do. This very Temple exists in an oft times dangerous city, we do our best but our influence and numbers are not enough to make the difference, now don't get me wrong, we certainly make, a, difference but its not what we would certainly like to be doing. I suggest you do what you can and be thankful for that and Rofirein willing perhaps one day you can do more."

Witha slight frown Edron bowed politely. "Thank you for your time Protector, will you see to it that the relevant personal are notified of this event."

As the Protector nodded in the affirmative Edron left the room and the Temple. He considered for a moment heading to the One Eyed Harpy for a drink before he returned to his quarters but the sight of all the revelers hanging around the entrance listending to some Bards story inside he decided he just wanted some quiet time and headed back to his quarters to rest and deliberate on what had been a very busy few days.