10. Ambush
Siobhan flopped to the grass as the druid thanked Eltheria for his payment and settled down to meditate. She hated portals, much preferring the sturdy wooden planking of a well-built ship to all the magical teleportation in Norrath. Having her body dismantled and zipped off to another continent always made her feel queasy, much like Ganth on the boats she liked. Still, they had been given no choice. Since Logrus had told them of Vaeksil's plans, Gueri had contacted Rendil and spoken for a short while with him using the telepathic telling-magic common to all Norrathians.
"You KNOW he'll be waiting?" Gueri had said, out loud. Apparently, her husband had been aware of Tel'Drath's plans to attack him and his friends, but had been unable to discover the location of the intended ambush. They had discussed plans, Gueri relating the conversation to her friends, and the group had agreed to try to find a druid as soon as possible. They were to make for the Butcherblock pass, where the mountains joined the Faydark, and set up camp to await the arrival of Rendil and his companions. It had taken almost a day to find a druid willing to take them all over to the dwarven homelands, and had cost them most of Gueri's savings: she had insisted on paying for them all, explaining that Rendil would reimburse her at a later date if she needed him to.
Krael looked around him in wonder. He had heard tell of the Butcherblock Mountains, but had never been outside of dark elven lands before. The majestic, stony peaks rising around him dwarfed almost everything he had seen before, and were so much more beautiful than the devastated Lavastorm peaks he had seen from a distance while growing up. Lush, green grass grew all around, and a gentle breeze blew through the valley, carrying with it the sounds and smells of a thousand creatures he knew of only from books.
Hefting their packs onto their backs, the friends set off for the Faydark pass, munching some jerked bear meat as they marched. Ganth was in wonderful spirits and sang as they walked. Both he and Eltheria had been a joy to be with since their sunset walk, a weight lifted from their shoulders as they were able to express their feelings, and Ganth's song was the first the friends had heard that was not bawdy. Siobhan smirked quietly as she considered how soft Ganth was, deep down inside.
Avoiding the local merchants and guards for Krael's sake, the group finally arrived near the pass and set up camp in the lee of a huge, buttress-rooted tree. The enormous trunk sheltered them not only from the wind, but from the prying eyes of any passers-by, and provided them with a fairly good view of the road to the pass. Ganth and Krael broke out their cooking equipment and set to work fixing supper.
***
"Here," stated Jomen, dumping his kit-bag onto the ground near some brush. "We'll be well hidden from the road during the day, and I can fix a fire in a hole for the night."
Vaeksil nodded. He signalled to his other followers - a dark elf, a troll and an ogre - to settle down, and unpacked his own bedroll. The Butcherblock was one of the dark elf's least-loved areas of Norrath. Not only was this place horribly 'pretty', but it stank of life and good things. The foul, earthen odour of dwarves assaulted his nose, and the bright daylight offended his eyes. Even the grass seemed happy, somehow. He cursed the entire area, the dwarves, the elves and the vegetation, and longed for night to fall. By all accounts, the high elf Rendil and his group of do-gooders would be passing through within the next two days, and he had to be ready for them.
"Go and look for the others," he ordered Jomen. The wood elf nodded and headed off towards the pass, scanning the trees on either side and sniffing the air as he went. Within a few minutes, the skilful elf had found what he was searching for - a small encampment set back from the pass on the Faydark side. As he approached, several impressive dark elves rose and unsheathed weapons, but he raised his hands in a familiar welcome, and they settled back down.
"Milords, miladies, it is good to see you again." Jomen greeted each of them in turn.
"Milord Kalath," he said, bowing to a tall, scarred dark elf in heavy armour. "Milord Makil," to a thinner elf wearing robes. "Milady Porim," to a darkly beautiful elf clad in plate mail. "Milord Zailkre," he continued, to a shorter elf wearing dark, shadowy armour. "Miladies Duthstra, Illilikil." He bowed to each of the armour-clad religious women in turn, and they nodded at his greetings. The entire group emanated power.
"What news, underling?" asked Porim, scowling down at the wood elf.
"Milord Vaeksil awaits you on the other side of the pass, milady," replied Jomen, keeping his eyes lowered. "He begs your indulgence in joining him there, for he has found an excellent ambush site."
The group conversed for a few seconds in the dark speech of their kind, then hefted their weapons and packs. Not bothering to extinguish their fire, they nodded to Jomen, who led the way back through the pass to Vaeksil's camp. Introductions were made between the two groups and they settled into their hidden campsite, waiting for their prey to arrive.
***
"Ach, I'm sure they be over there," muttered Ganth to Siobhan, as they crouched behind the root of one of the Butcherblock's huge trees. "I see wisps of smoke a-risin'."
Siobhan nodded and signalled to the rest of the group to approach. The friends had been on the lookout for their enemies since their arrival in the dwarven homelands, and had finally spotted what seemed to be a hidden camp, near the pass to the Faydark. Ganth and the barbarian had remained in an observation spot for several hours and had seen no movement to report, but the little rogue was sure Vaeksil was there.
"I wonder if he's alone," pondered Gueri. Eltheria was about to reply, when Gueri's eyes went suddenly distant. Her lips moved slightly as she apparently received a magical communication. The others waited patiently until her concentration returned to the present.
"Rendil's here. He and his friends have just landed at the docks. It looks like we're in for an interesting afternoon."
The group returned quietly to their camp. They had waited for this moment for several days now, but they had never really considered that they would be fighting not only Vaeksil, but their long-time friend, Jomen. Silently, they prepared their weapons. Gueri and Eltheria began their incantations of protection, without looking at the others. It was Siobhan who broke the relative silence with her thundering voice:
"Look out, Jomen. I'm a-comin' fer ye, and ye'd best be ready to join that orc in hell. May me father's sword strike true!" she said, hatred in her eyes, her sword raised towards the enemy camp. The others lined up beside her, glanced at each other, then headed towards Vaeksil's hiding place.
They were almost within earshot of the camp when they stopped to consider their options. Smoke rose gently from the camp, and they could now see figures moving amongst the bushes - a lot of people were there, it seemed.
"Hell, looks like they have company," whispered Eltheria. "We won't be able to do much against them if they're here for Rendil and his friends."
The others agreed. Ganth sneaked a little further forward to have a closer look, while the others stayed where they were to work out what they should do. Within a few minutes, he came back, crouched low.
"There's two groups of 'em in there," he stated. "Vaeksil's got Jomen and three others with 'im, and there's a bunch o' nasty great big inkies there, too. They're the ones who'll be concerned with Rendil and his gang, if I'm not mistaken."
"We'll jest have tae sit and wait until that husband o' your'n turns up," suggested Siobhan, nodding at Gueri. "Then we ken jump in and gi'him a hand." The friends all agreed and settled quietly down to wait again.
They did not have to wait very long. A matter of minutes later, they heard voices coming from the road that led to Kaladim. Looking over, they could see a group of three people walking towards the Faydark pass, one of whom they recognised immediately as Rendil. With him was his friend Powder, the dwarven cleric Jomen had run into in the lesser Faydark what seemed such a long time ago. The other was unfamiliar, but appeared to be a barbarian fighter of some sort; a tall, broad man wearing a kilt and carrying a monstrous spear. The group walked seemingly unmindful of the ambush awaiting them.
The friends prepared themselves as they heard the dark elves gather their weapons and head towards the pass. Following silently and at a short distance, they remained out of sight as their enemies concentrated on the group of lightbringers on the road. As they arrived at the pass, the children of evil set up in two lines: the more powerful strike team in front, with Vaeksil's group a little behind and to one side. They began chanting their incantations of protection.
Rendil stopped as he saw the dark elves lined up across the entrance to the pass. Powder and the barbarian warrior stood to either side of the magician and, as the cleric began chating, Rendil stepped forward.
"Good day to you, Vaeksil. I see you have brought some more powerful scum with you this time," he shouted, with a mock-bow. "I know you not, elven lords and ladies," he continued, addressing the line of powerful individuals more respectfully. "Step out of my way and we will pass in peace."
"I am Kalath, Lord of Neriak, bearer of the sacred blade, warrior of darkness," the dark elf in heavy armour said, stepping forward and bowing before his opponent. "We are sent by powers that cannot be denied. We cannot let you pass." Rendil returned his bow.
"Then, if we must, we will fight," replied the magician.
Siobhan flopped to the grass as the druid thanked Eltheria for his payment and settled down to meditate. She hated portals, much preferring the sturdy wooden planking of a well-built ship to all the magical teleportation in Norrath. Having her body dismantled and zipped off to another continent always made her feel queasy, much like Ganth on the boats she liked. Still, they had been given no choice. Since Logrus had told them of Vaeksil's plans, Gueri had contacted Rendil and spoken for a short while with him using the telepathic telling-magic common to all Norrathians.
"You KNOW he'll be waiting?" Gueri had said, out loud. Apparently, her husband had been aware of Tel'Drath's plans to attack him and his friends, but had been unable to discover the location of the intended ambush. They had discussed plans, Gueri relating the conversation to her friends, and the group had agreed to try to find a druid as soon as possible. They were to make for the Butcherblock pass, where the mountains joined the Faydark, and set up camp to await the arrival of Rendil and his companions. It had taken almost a day to find a druid willing to take them all over to the dwarven homelands, and had cost them most of Gueri's savings: she had insisted on paying for them all, explaining that Rendil would reimburse her at a later date if she needed him to.
Krael looked around him in wonder. He had heard tell of the Butcherblock Mountains, but had never been outside of dark elven lands before. The majestic, stony peaks rising around him dwarfed almost everything he had seen before, and were so much more beautiful than the devastated Lavastorm peaks he had seen from a distance while growing up. Lush, green grass grew all around, and a gentle breeze blew through the valley, carrying with it the sounds and smells of a thousand creatures he knew of only from books.
Hefting their packs onto their backs, the friends set off for the Faydark pass, munching some jerked bear meat as they marched. Ganth was in wonderful spirits and sang as they walked. Both he and Eltheria had been a joy to be with since their sunset walk, a weight lifted from their shoulders as they were able to express their feelings, and Ganth's song was the first the friends had heard that was not bawdy. Siobhan smirked quietly as she considered how soft Ganth was, deep down inside.
Avoiding the local merchants and guards for Krael's sake, the group finally arrived near the pass and set up camp in the lee of a huge, buttress-rooted tree. The enormous trunk sheltered them not only from the wind, but from the prying eyes of any passers-by, and provided them with a fairly good view of the road to the pass. Ganth and Krael broke out their cooking equipment and set to work fixing supper.
***
"Here," stated Jomen, dumping his kit-bag onto the ground near some brush. "We'll be well hidden from the road during the day, and I can fix a fire in a hole for the night."
Vaeksil nodded. He signalled to his other followers - a dark elf, a troll and an ogre - to settle down, and unpacked his own bedroll. The Butcherblock was one of the dark elf's least-loved areas of Norrath. Not only was this place horribly 'pretty', but it stank of life and good things. The foul, earthen odour of dwarves assaulted his nose, and the bright daylight offended his eyes. Even the grass seemed happy, somehow. He cursed the entire area, the dwarves, the elves and the vegetation, and longed for night to fall. By all accounts, the high elf Rendil and his group of do-gooders would be passing through within the next two days, and he had to be ready for them.
"Go and look for the others," he ordered Jomen. The wood elf nodded and headed off towards the pass, scanning the trees on either side and sniffing the air as he went. Within a few minutes, the skilful elf had found what he was searching for - a small encampment set back from the pass on the Faydark side. As he approached, several impressive dark elves rose and unsheathed weapons, but he raised his hands in a familiar welcome, and they settled back down.
"Milords, miladies, it is good to see you again." Jomen greeted each of them in turn.
"Milord Kalath," he said, bowing to a tall, scarred dark elf in heavy armour. "Milord Makil," to a thinner elf wearing robes. "Milady Porim," to a darkly beautiful elf clad in plate mail. "Milord Zailkre," he continued, to a shorter elf wearing dark, shadowy armour. "Miladies Duthstra, Illilikil." He bowed to each of the armour-clad religious women in turn, and they nodded at his greetings. The entire group emanated power.
"What news, underling?" asked Porim, scowling down at the wood elf.
"Milord Vaeksil awaits you on the other side of the pass, milady," replied Jomen, keeping his eyes lowered. "He begs your indulgence in joining him there, for he has found an excellent ambush site."
The group conversed for a few seconds in the dark speech of their kind, then hefted their weapons and packs. Not bothering to extinguish their fire, they nodded to Jomen, who led the way back through the pass to Vaeksil's camp. Introductions were made between the two groups and they settled into their hidden campsite, waiting for their prey to arrive.
***
"Ach, I'm sure they be over there," muttered Ganth to Siobhan, as they crouched behind the root of one of the Butcherblock's huge trees. "I see wisps of smoke a-risin'."
Siobhan nodded and signalled to the rest of the group to approach. The friends had been on the lookout for their enemies since their arrival in the dwarven homelands, and had finally spotted what seemed to be a hidden camp, near the pass to the Faydark. Ganth and the barbarian had remained in an observation spot for several hours and had seen no movement to report, but the little rogue was sure Vaeksil was there.
"I wonder if he's alone," pondered Gueri. Eltheria was about to reply, when Gueri's eyes went suddenly distant. Her lips moved slightly as she apparently received a magical communication. The others waited patiently until her concentration returned to the present.
"Rendil's here. He and his friends have just landed at the docks. It looks like we're in for an interesting afternoon."
The group returned quietly to their camp. They had waited for this moment for several days now, but they had never really considered that they would be fighting not only Vaeksil, but their long-time friend, Jomen. Silently, they prepared their weapons. Gueri and Eltheria began their incantations of protection, without looking at the others. It was Siobhan who broke the relative silence with her thundering voice:
"Look out, Jomen. I'm a-comin' fer ye, and ye'd best be ready to join that orc in hell. May me father's sword strike true!" she said, hatred in her eyes, her sword raised towards the enemy camp. The others lined up beside her, glanced at each other, then headed towards Vaeksil's hiding place.
They were almost within earshot of the camp when they stopped to consider their options. Smoke rose gently from the camp, and they could now see figures moving amongst the bushes - a lot of people were there, it seemed.
"Hell, looks like they have company," whispered Eltheria. "We won't be able to do much against them if they're here for Rendil and his friends."
The others agreed. Ganth sneaked a little further forward to have a closer look, while the others stayed where they were to work out what they should do. Within a few minutes, he came back, crouched low.
"There's two groups of 'em in there," he stated. "Vaeksil's got Jomen and three others with 'im, and there's a bunch o' nasty great big inkies there, too. They're the ones who'll be concerned with Rendil and his gang, if I'm not mistaken."
"We'll jest have tae sit and wait until that husband o' your'n turns up," suggested Siobhan, nodding at Gueri. "Then we ken jump in and gi'him a hand." The friends all agreed and settled quietly down to wait again.
They did not have to wait very long. A matter of minutes later, they heard voices coming from the road that led to Kaladim. Looking over, they could see a group of three people walking towards the Faydark pass, one of whom they recognised immediately as Rendil. With him was his friend Powder, the dwarven cleric Jomen had run into in the lesser Faydark what seemed such a long time ago. The other was unfamiliar, but appeared to be a barbarian fighter of some sort; a tall, broad man wearing a kilt and carrying a monstrous spear. The group walked seemingly unmindful of the ambush awaiting them.
The friends prepared themselves as they heard the dark elves gather their weapons and head towards the pass. Following silently and at a short distance, they remained out of sight as their enemies concentrated on the group of lightbringers on the road. As they arrived at the pass, the children of evil set up in two lines: the more powerful strike team in front, with Vaeksil's group a little behind and to one side. They began chanting their incantations of protection.
Rendil stopped as he saw the dark elves lined up across the entrance to the pass. Powder and the barbarian warrior stood to either side of the magician and, as the cleric began chating, Rendil stepped forward.
"Good day to you, Vaeksil. I see you have brought some more powerful scum with you this time," he shouted, with a mock-bow. "I know you not, elven lords and ladies," he continued, addressing the line of powerful individuals more respectfully. "Step out of my way and we will pass in peace."
"I am Kalath, Lord of Neriak, bearer of the sacred blade, warrior of darkness," the dark elf in heavy armour said, stepping forward and bowing before his opponent. "We are sent by powers that cannot be denied. We cannot let you pass." Rendil returned his bow.
"Then, if we must, we will fight," replied the magician.