Journey

The next day dawned cold and clear. It was that time of the year when summer was nearly over and fall was almost here. The adventurers gathered in the stables behind the inn, and prepared to set out northwards for the Keep. Melcise rechecked his pack, reassured that his traveling spell book was secure. His original spell book was safe in his master's tower, and a loss of his traveling one would not be the disaster that it could be. The rest of the companions filled up their waterskins and inventoried the iron rations for the trip ahead. Iron rations were anything but tasty, and were made up of dried biscuits, cheese, ripe sweet apples, and strips of beef, lamb, and fish jerky. Not very appetizing, but important for travelers on long journeys that relied on foods that would keep for a long period of time. The companions mounted their horses and rode out through the gate onto the hard-packed road, through the edge of town and turned north on the dusty road towards the wilderness and adventure.

The farms and homesteads became less abundant as they continued their ride, and eventually disappeared all together. The group had now entered the wilderness, and the sway of the Duke was nearly nonexistent in this part of his land. The air was crisp and the sun bright. Autumn leaves became more common as they rode further north. Shy rabbits and deer peaked out through the dense foliage as the party rode past, wary of humans. Sometime around midday the road turned towards a small river, and the party stopped near a rock outcropping that supported a small waterfall further out in the stream. They unpacked their rations and ate thoughtfully, considering the next stage of their journey. So far, the ride had been easy; the weather had been good; and the only life they had encountered were small animals and birds. It was hoped that their luck would continue to hold.

It did not. On the morning of the third day out of the village, the sky clouded up. A few drops of rain fell like hard acorns onto the ground. The sprinkles became a cold steady rain. The wind began to gust in the trees, and the temperature plummeted. They were further away from the coast now, and cold rains and even snow were more common in this region. They huddled in their cloaks and continued the journey. Bad luck continued as the road failed, to be replaced by a rutted trail. As evening came, the winds increased, nearly knocking the riders out of their saddles. They decided to camp for the night, but their tent was torn from their grasp, went spinning out into the river, and was lost to them. The adventures huddled under a tarp that was strung between two trees and backed up to a fallen tree. They were questioning their choice of adventure at this point. It continued raining.

The morning dawned with heavy rain mixing with snow and a biting north wind. The cold and damp collected in the party's bones like mildew. The companions then realized that their rations had been stolen during the night. They discovered some telltale signs of Jermalaines. These were chaotic creatures that were smaller than rabbits, of fairy origin but corrupted by evil, and were unpredictable, malicious, and cruel. They had taken the food and cut the bindings on the party's backpacks and saddles. Most of the morning was wasted repairing tack and straps. Hungry, the party continued their journey as the rain transitioned to snow, and the wind whipped it across the path, soon covering the trail in a blanket of drifted snow. The party went to bed that night, cold, hungry, and tired. When they woke in the morning the sky was still slate grey, and more snow was threatening, but at least none was falling. It was at precisely this point when they were attacked. Had the weather been better, or had the group been less miserable or hungry, they might have noticed broken arrow points and pock marked snow near the path, but the rain,cold, and hunger had taken their toll. They were completely unaware as bow strings twanged and arrows passed by them. One arrow thunked into Argononth's shoulder, spinning him out of his saddle and stunning him as he crashed into the ground. Grunion shouted something unintelligible and dug his heels into his pony, riding like mad right towards the ambush. He swept out his sword and charged the first attacker. Goblins had taken up residence in this part of the woods and had been ambushing and killing single individuals and raiding merchant trains. Now the fellowship was their next target. Argonath was still struggling to stand up when two goblins, garbed in leather armor and armed with short swords and shields attacked him. Even on his knees, the Paladin was a match for the beasts and parried both blades in quick succession. Melcise acted on instinct and drew a dagger from his belt and threw it at one of the goblins attacking his friend. The aim was true and the dagger buried itself in the goblin's back. The creature stumbled and fell to the ground, not moving. Meanwhile, Grunion's charge had caught the goblins by surprise and he swept his short sword down on the nearest monster, cleaving his shield in half and severing his arm at the elbow. The goblin howled and grabbed at his stump, trying to staunch the fountaining blood, but was unsuccessful and collapsed, still bleeding.

"Dat will take care of ye", yelled Grunion waving his bloody sword. "Come get sum more ye flea bitten varmits" (1).

Melcise then closed his eyes and brought to the front of his mind the spell he had prepared. It was called Magic Missile, and was one of the 4 spells he had in his spellbook. The spell created magic globs of force that resembled glowing daggers. He mouthed the words of the spell and twitched his fingers in strange patterns. Suddenly, 3 glowing rods of light appeared orbiting his head. He held out a hand with 5 rigid fingers splayed apart and the missiles shot off, unerringly towards their targets. This spell was such that this attack could not miss. Melcise directed the three missiles towards three goblins, and each hit its mark, making a popping sound as the missile hit the chest of the goblins. Each one collapsed instantly, smoke curling out of their chests where the magic had impacted.

Argonath stood up and brought his shield to bear, smashing it into the face of one of his attackers. He took a step forward and sliced downwards, separating the goblin's head completely from its shoulders. As he turned towards the next foe, the goblin threw down his sword and groveled on the ground squeaking for mercy. Argonath brought his sword down and touched the goblin's chest with the tip of the weapon, watching for any sign of treachery.

"Don't hurt me" squeaked the goblin in goblineese, "I will show you our treasure and help you any way I can if you don't kill me".

Grunion, who spoke goblin, let his companions know what the beast had said. Argonath removed the sword from the goblin's chest, stating "I am a lawful good man. If the goblin swears that he will help and not run away, I will honor his word and show him mercy". The goblin quickly agreed.

Melcise brought out of his pouch a small vial that he gingerly unstoppered. He passed it to Argonath saying, "drink a single draught of this healing potion and it should cure your wound".

Argonath grimaced as he pushed the arrow through his shoulder, breaking off the arrowhead and pulling back the feathered piece. He then took the offered potion and took one swallow. The bleeding stopped immediately and the torn skin knitted itself back together. A small scar was all that remained shortly thereafter.

The fawning goblin led the party into the trees a short way, where they encountered the goblin encampment. 8 goblins had originally been here, but 7 were lying dead along the path. The remaining goblin was all too happy to give up the spoils of the marauding group to the adventurers in exchange for his life. An old cart held heavy fur lined cloaks that fit the party well. In a couple of sacks near the campfire were more iron rations, more than making up for the food that was lost. Finally, the goblin whined that there was no more, but a prodding by Grunion's sword forced it to reveal the treasure. The cart had a false bottom and within this space were 150 gold pieces, 50 silver pieces, 20 copper pieces, and a rolled up scroll. The coins were gathered into a bag and Melcise gingerly took the scroll, unrolling it and puzzling out the arcane runes. He realized this was the same spell as in his spellbook. The scroll contained 7 magic missile spells. This was a treasure indeed. Instead of memorizing the magic missile spell each day, he could cast it off the scroll up to 7 times. Once that was done, the scroll was simply a piece of vellum, but this allowed him to memorize another spell that could help the party. The sad thing was that only one spell a day could be memorized at his levelMelcise thought that only spell a day would make him a burden to the party and he took to brooding over his supposed weakness..

Grunion squinted his eyes, thinking about exchange rates on the coins. While not the brightest halfing, he did have an excellent mind for money. "Let me see, 10 silver is one gold, 20 copper is one gold. Hmm, we have bout 154 gold pieces (gp) worth of coins here. Too bad we didn find any ale" he smirked. "I would give a few copper for dat".

"Let us take what the god Celowin has given us", said Argonath. "He has been generous and things might have gone much worse for us. We owe our good fortune to Melcise. He killed half of the goblins. Never again will I look at a wizard as a weakling just because he doesn't wear armor"

"Magic user", Melcise said absently. "I'm a magic user. I won't be a wizard until I'm name level which is a long way off. But you are welcome for the aid. I would not have had time to cast my spells if you had not kept the goblins from attacking me. I can't cast spells when I'm about to be hit by swords".

"Lets git to goin, i'm thirsty for something other dan water" said Grunion. "I hate da cold and wanna be somewhere warmer".

"By all means, our small companion speaks the truth", replied Argonath. "I too could use a warm fire and better food".

"Then let us be on our way", stated Melcise. " The Keep is only a couple days' ride ahead".

The companions mounted their horses and left the encampment, sparing the goblin as they had agreed to do. The clouds began to break up and rays of sun shone down as the late afternoon marched on to evening. The adventurers rode till it was dark and made a quick camp, drawing lots as to who would take first watch. The encounter had made them realize that there was no safety in this part of the wilderness, a lesson that they had painfully learned. The next day, a few farms appeared along the track, which turned into a road again. Far ahead in the distance a low set of hills rose up from the surrounding lands. The Keep was visible from where they sat on their horses. By midday, they had reached the Keep, and they rode through the gates, eager to find an inn, a fire, and a mug of ale. The adventure could wait till the morrow.

(1). I have always wanted to quote Yosemite Sam in a story, and I have finally had the chance to do so. I tried to portray Grunion as a little rough around the edges, although loveable in his own way. Argonath is more reserved, as would befit a good soldier dedicating his life to his god. Melcise is the middle ground that balances both of them out.

This chapter kind of got away from me. I initially wanted it to be short and have the party arrive at the keep and explore it before the next chapter, but I got so caught up in the scenery and the battle that I couldn't stop. I promise that the next chapter will get us back on track and reveal the reason why the group came to the Keep in the first place. As always, I appreciate your time and patience with the story. Comments are always welcome