The Menace Revealed
With their cover blown the ambushers rushed out, five or six of them, Drovus couldn't count from his akward position. They were armored men, city guards wearing the colors of Neverwinter on their tunics! Merely a few seconds earlier, both Kellandura and Alora dove off into the thicket on either side of the meadow clearing. Took Boringer chose an entirely different tactic, charging at the men and engaging two. The other guards avoided the mighty dwarf and took off looking for easier prey, leaving their two parrying companions with full hands.
Another arrow whistled nearby, shot from the back of the group and Drovus pushed himself into a roll barely avoiding a swift end. He could see an armored man out of the corner of his eye advancing towards him spear held out in front. Stretching out with his forearms, Drovus scampered off into the bush and flung himself down behind a large oak trunk. "Thunk!" an arrow whistled overhead slamming into the sturdy tree that the scared mage hid behind. Drovus could hear a few of the soldiers yelling in out of place gruff voices accomponied by the clanging of melee battle nearby. Hearing thrashing and cursing in the bushes a few feet off to his left where he had entered the thicket, Drovus could make out a spear raised, slashing back and forth, the long weapon was obviously entangled in the low hanging branches of the overgrown vegetation . Drovus stood and began muttering words to a powerful spell he had memorized, right as the disgruntled man broke through the brambles and charged at him. Drovus deftly stepped to the left, fully expecting to be skewered like a wild boar. Surprisingly, the veteran guard missed by a large bracket and stuck his spear into Drovus's oak friend instead. Thinking quickly, Drovus turned and finished casting his spell. Drovus's outstretched hands sent forth a powerful burst of lightning surprising the guard, who had given up on the spear and was having serious trouble pulling out a wicked knife. The defeated guard spasmed and squirmed in agony as the high voltage spell coursed through him and quickly ended his life. Thoroughly shaken, Drovus looked down at the dead guard and was still half-expecting him to stand up and apologize for the terrible accident when a second guard rushed through the bush wielding a bastard sword. Drovus, acting on instinct, crouched and quickly grabbed the first guards sword ignoring the pain as a shock blasted through the metal into his hand. Turning to face his new foe, the mage lifted his steel weapon in an inexperienced battle stance.
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"Argh," Took Boringer bellowed as a second arrow bounced off his well crafted armor, "keep coming I can handle twenty of you at a time!"
Surprisingly the message wasn't that far off and Took was surprised at how weak these supposedly well-trained guards were. One of Took's original attackers lay on the ground moaning and clutching his split belly as life blood seeped through his fingers, the second opponent was fighting furiously, now even more frightened having lost the man advantage. Up came the mithril axe and so up went the sword, the guard wasn't too keen on leaving an opening for the angry dwarf. The sword, however, wasn't quick enough to follow the axe back down as it was thrust towards the mans torso. The head of the axe smashed the mans mailed stomache, making him gasp in pain and drop his sword - the deadly axe was already moving again! This time a sideways swing chopped into the mans exposed neck, between armor and helmet, leaving a gaping wound. The guard appeared stunned for a second, staring into Took's grim face, then fell over dead. Took Boringer growled a warcray, spitting at the ground as he stomped off towards the reloading archer, who in turn fired off another poorly aimed missile, then ran off dropping his bow. No human, however fast, could escape the powerful flight of Alora's arrow, this fleeing guard was no exception and was blasted squarely in the back. The unfortunate man stumbled forward with the leftover momentum, continuing a few more steps before collapsing forever.
Alora grinned at Took from her woodland position, but hearing his warning cry, spun around. A man stood right behind her axe raised, frozen in time. With an aweful, confused expression and a loud crack, the man tumbled earthbound his broken neck flopping uselessly. Behind the man crouched Kellandura in a stealthy stance; the dark elf spat at the dead man's feet and retreated back into the bush without so much as a swishing branch to reveal her - the stealthy killer, the stealthy drow!
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Drovus was amazed that even his rudimentary teachings of warfare and swordplay at the academy were keeping his armored opponent at bay. The guard swung his sword akwardly, and once again missed the half-naked mage. Another swing of the angry man's sword, this time horizontally, knocked Drovus's weapon out of his hand and out of reach, off to the left. The man grinned wickedly, laughing as he advanced on the mage. A tough lesson to learn is that a mage is never unarmed and the man learned that lesson tenfold as a violet orb flew from Drovus's outstretched hand blasting the unfortunate man in the middle. The airborne man soared like a bird and landed like a rhino as his frail body crashed against a large tree, the crack of his back could be heard even from Drovus's twenty foot away position.
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"You all right 'Lor?" Took cried out to the bushes where he had last seen his human companion in apparent danger.
"Yeah, thanks for the heads up!" Yelled back Alora, "Kellandura had my back. Drovus was right about her martial training, that man never had a chance!" Alora moved back out into the clearing. "Have you seen Drovus, Took?"
"Nah, he ran off into the bushes somewhere to the left." Right as Took finished speaking, Drovus stumbled out through the bushes. The stricken expression on the crazed mage's face frightened Alora.
"Who are you and why are the Neverwinter soldiers after you?" Drovus stuttered obviously shaken from his ordeal in the woods. Despite all of his training and the the recent raid on Turnsdell, Drovus was still a novice in the ways of death , especially death caused by his own hands.
"I could ask the same question to you Drovus." Alora replied, "as for us, we have done no crime, and last time I checked the soldiers of Neverwinter ask before they shoot." Changing her tone, Alora looked at Drovus her eyes full of concern, "Drovus they would have killed you if you hadn't fought back."
"Killed you? Bah, what sort of guards fight like drunken kobolds? For all of its boasting I think Neverwinter's military should step up a notch." huffed the dwarf as Kellandura rejoined the group from her location in the trees.
Drovus didn't look convinced just how much could he trust this ragtag duo? Drovus looked at Took and then Alora, "I think it would be best to find out why those guards attacked us, maybe there is a town nearby where we can get some information." Alora nodded in agreement, Took grunted, and Kellandura simply stared off into space. Drovus secretly thought to pay more attention to his new companions and to further interrogate them about why the guards attacked.
"Before we head out, maybe I have some clothes that can fit Kellandura and then you can get back into that robe of yours." Alora said to Drovus who gratefully nodded his head. Alora continued, seeing Drovus's suspicious look, "My guess is that the guards were on patrol and saw the drow; that or you have some serious explaining to do Drovus. Either way I suggest we head out, we can talk along the road."
Several minutes later the adventurers departed, intent on finding the nearest town. Alora and Took muttered quietly amongst themselves as they stared back at the other two straggling companions. The newly robed Drovus has similar thoughts in his head. After all, why else would the guards have attacked, had they even seen the stealthy drow? A dangerous puzzle, Drovus knew he would have to get to the bottom of it. Beside the lost-in-thought mage, stalked Kellandura, a deadly glint had returned to her cruel, black eyes. The drow did well in hiding it though and walked steadily onwards. Who knows what dreadful thoughts breached that dark beings mind?
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Far down the coast in the Sword Mountains, South of Neverwinter and North of Waterdeep, sat Nethrenspire, the dark Fortress. It stood five hundred feet high, black as night and thicker than a dragon's scales. A single tower that magically shifted planes, appearing fully on the material plane only at night, when the moons power was full -- and the suns diminished!
Your feeble attempts at creating war strike out as being oh so mortal! spoke Najienkalaz the Cursed Crown of Etheindal. Its wearer, the former battle mage Esteren, groaned and shifted under the burden of the powerful sentient object. Maybe I should have chosen a more suitable bearer? spat the Cursed Crown, the strong telpathic message forcing Esteren to shudder.
"Najienkalaz you have laid the impossible out before me, I simply need more time." Esteren spoke out loud knowing that it did not matter, he knew very well that the mighty Najienkalaz could intrude on his every thought telepathically.
Najienkalaz didn't bother replying it knew that its ally... that its host, was powerful; it could not help tormenting the pitiful Mage however. Esteren shuddered again, he sat glumly on the throne, how ironic the throne he thought he would claim after carefully learning the ways of the Cursed Crown. The mighty mage however made a major mistake. Very few can resist the tempting call of Najienkalaz and the crown had whispered to Esteren from the beginning. Esteren had lost the battle of wills that soon followed, and had placed the Cursed Crown on his head. The mage barely realized that he was now little more than a vessel for the ever-hungering crown.
Together my wizard we shall swell with power, and even the mighty Lords of Waterdeep will offer fealty to Esteren and his crown. That thought alone cheered the over-ambitious mage. Although Esteren was quite content with being a renown battle mage for hire, the crown had carefully persuaded him that more power equalled more respect. Respect was a thing that Esteren could not refuse. He was one of the best and with this objects help he would become the best of the Sword Coast maybe even of Faerun. Maybe even Toril the manipulative crown implanted into Esteren's head.
"Maybe even Toril," the battle mage grinned to himself. A smile spreading across his wearied face, something that hadn't occured since his discovery of Najienkalaz.
The Cursed Crown had reinforced Esteren's magical abilities and had shown him the key to entering and controlling Nethrenspire's formidable power. How could the mage not return a simple favour? The crown cackled with joy masking its feelings from the powerful mage; manipulation was the crowns most favourite game, one that it excelled at. This was all too easy for Najienkalaz, the wizard had already began gathering a vile army to start the spreading of the chaotic plague, that is the Cursed Crown!
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Hey, sorry that it took me a while to post this chapter its been done for a while. I would like to thank Icy Mike Molson for the review, now I have some tangible stuff to work on, also I would like to thank everyone else who has read the Strange Party so far. I mean to go backand fix some errors (busy with school currently). As for character realism I'm working on it still, the story is developing and I know everything was too quick, I had realized that even as I posted it. I hope this new chapter is a little more polished and I look forward to more reviews.
Trailwanderer