The Lost Vale
By Drammen Grunalf


The Seventh Installment: From Nomads to the Valley of the Five Mountains
 

The thin stand of trees was nominal cover as the fifteen looked about the cardinal points from their small high ground.

"We are being watched." Gipfel said with no prompting.

"How do you know?" Dinnel asked.

"Have you ever had that feeling you were being watched, but could not substantiate it?"

"I have had rare intuitions, but nothing like what you are trying to explain." The warrior priest said in return.

The party's attention focused on the plain that was strewn with large herds of deer and antelope, which were interspersed with wild and feral hogs.

"Those who watch us will attack before we enter the pass that we will take into the valley of the Five Mountains." The tribal warrior said.

Sartorius walked to where Gipfel and Dinnel were standing. He had over heard a portion of their conversation. Standing on a large glacial scraped rock, the warrior musician used a hand to shade his eyes from the morning sun as he looked about the horizon of the cool plain they were crossing.

"Put your hand down little brother." Gipfel said. "We do not want them to know someone is watching us."

Sartorius let his hands drop to his side. "When do you think they will attack us?" He asked.

"At their convenience. Most likely after nightfall."

"How long have the human tribes lived out here on the plain?" Dinnel asked.

"I know nothing of any human tribes?" Gipfel replied.

"Are you not human?" Sartorius asked.

"Part of us is human. The other parts are of those like Boldar or like those who have hunted us for generations."

Kjellinger could tell a story was on the wind, and stepped to where Sartorius was standing.

"Kjell! You arrived just in time. Our warrior friend was going to give us a history lesson about his people. Where is Boldar?" Sartorius asked.

"I thought I heard a story in the offing. As far as Boldar is concerned I believe he plots with Garntay and Xarno." Kjellinger said.

"Those three are inseparable." Dinnel added.

The four party members standing near the large glacially carved rock looked at one another with smiles on their faces.

"Such friendship is a good thing. I can tell that the three friends have been through much in their lives together." The tribal warrior said.

His companions nodded facing the tribal warrior as they sat with their backs to the rising morning sun.

"You were about to talk about your people, my friend." Kjellinger prodded.

"My people came here from the north before the Anauroch existed as a desert. Our ancestors were said to have sailed its salty seas while others have said that we came by foot around its sandy shores."

The tribal warrior squatted, pulled a green sprout of grass from the sandy soil of the plain as he looked thoughtfully at those who stood and sat near him.

"Goblinoids were displaced by our coming. We were forced to leave the north because our lands had frozen, and the game had left the now cold lands our ancestors had fled. Our ancestors had traded with the goblinoids until we forced them off from their traditional hunting lands. When we did trade our peoples intermingled and joined as clans in times of hardship and scarcity."

Gipfel looked about the plain as he pondered his next thought.

"When our people migrated to these mountains we had become enemies with the goblinoids as a result of the pressure both peoples put on these hunting grounds. As a result we aligned with the dwarves who live in these mountains. Our alliance with the dwarves has been strong, but they are a secretive and even xenophobic group of people who were slow to react to our need. Instead our people were tracked and hunted down by the goblinoids who in turn decimated our ranks."

"I was under the impression you were a large tribe." Sartorius said.

"The farthest thing from the truth my warrior friend." Gipfel said.

"How many of you are there?"

"We have been one less than three moons for almost four summers. The goblinoids hunt us down, and we fight for the right to exist. The warrior priest assures me that my people will be allowed to live peacefully in the valley of the five mountains. After this group arrives Kehle, her sister Tropfelina, and myself will venture forth to find Kehle's father, my clan chieftain. He will then lead the remainder of our people to the valley of the five mountains. There we will flourish. As a bounty to the warrior priests' family we will protect the borders of the valley, and ensure the safety of both his family and our people. We will grow strong again in the eyes of our gods."

"You have my word that you and your people will be treated with the utmost respect." Dinnel said.

Boldar, Garntay, and Xarno appeared from the periphery of the lightly forested knoll. Xarno stopped in front of the group of relaxing adventurers and lent most of his weight on the staff he used as a walking stick.

"We need to make preparations to finish our trip." The elderly mage said.

"Gipfel says we are being watched." Kjellinger quipped.

"The man has a good eye. I would take his words into strong consideration. Those who watch us will not wait beyond sundown before they attack. We have much land to cross, and with the Lady of Mysteries help we shall make our crossing without much in the way of harassment from those who are watching us."

"How did you know we were being watched?" The bard asked Gipfel.

"There are many subtle signs that can foretell many events. I suggest you take the time to learn these signs so you can read the story of the land before you walk into a surprise my friend from the city." The tribal warrior said.

Quietly the large party began to break camp, and make preparations for the rest of the trip into the large valley to the west. The five mountains covered with snow surrounded the valley looked tall and ominous. A cool breeze blew from the east, and wispy clouds scudded off the mountaintops.

Thirty goblinoid warriors led by six bugbears, all sub chieftains moved cautiously through the tall green grasses of the plain. They disguised their movements with the various herds that moved along the grassy plain. Three sub chieftains would help pick the large groups' path while the remaining three used clubs and sticks to push the thirty warriors before them.

Each bugbear sub chieftain was in charge of five goblinoids. From small goblins and moderate sized orcs, to large hobgoblins. The true volunteers of the large group were the bugbears who in reality were a race of large furry goblins. They had volunteered because of tales other volunteers had received special privileges within the tribe.

Promises of excellent meals and access to slave women had been made as an enticement. Each warrior had embellished what was told to him, and the numbers of goblinoids they had brought with him or her had swollen. The head chief, a large goblinoid was pleased with the numbers initially reported to him. He prepared his plan and brought forward his four ogre mercenaries.

At first the trip was easy as they made their way across the steppes to where the five mountains could be seen. Once the word had leaked out that the party was going to be used to determine the strength of the party of interlopers. The goblinoids began to start running off in ones and twos. To keep the losses to a manageable level, the bugbears began using force to hold the party of would be goblinoid warriors together.

By now the bugbears had divided themselves into two groups. The first group would lead the force while the second group would walk the rear ranks and maintain discipline among the goblinoid ranks. Fear and force were used to hold the ranks together as the goblinoid incursion force crossed the wide grassy valley.

The tracks and spoor of the enemy were easy to follow. The mixed group of demi-humans and humans moved as though they were out for an excursion and not crossing dangerous territory. Lone bugbear scouts would intercept the goblinoid war party and inform them of the trespassers' progress. Night was their element, and they traveled quickly to a pass on the western side of the valley that lay in front of the humanoid party's path.

After the bugbear scouts gave their known information to the goblinoid warriors they quickly returned to the main camp. Ogres had been armed and given slaves for payment of their services as hired mercenaries. Bodies slain in ritualistic fashion lay strewn about the camp. Most of the dead had been human slaves who had been captured in the ongoing war with the human nomads.

Children, women, and young men had been impaled on poles painted red with their victim's blood. Those bodies rent from the physical damage were flensed and thrown to the wayside while camp dogs and other animals that sickened the imagination feasted on the bodies of the dead.

The camp had reached a fever pitch, and the call for more captive blood went out among the followers inside the camp. Women and children not yet killed cried for their gods to preserve them, but none came. Men unable to deal with the mental anguish of watching loved ones raped, savaged, and murdered stared hopelessly into the depths of nothingness.

When the time was right, the giant bugbear chieftain asked his people what he should do about the lack of human slaves. A cry came out as hundreds of goblinoid voices yelled.

"Bring us more!"

"You want more?" The chieftain asked as he stood on a dais of wood and bone.

Heads nodded, and shields rang as weapons were used to clash against them.

"I cannot get you more, but our scouts know where you can find them. A double ration of grog for every member of the tribe who finds a suitable slave. The scouts will help you find the way!"

Skin flasks of the home brewed goblinoid grog were brought forth, and many hands reached out for weapons and the home brew. The bugbear chieftain smiled as he looked on to the arming of his camp.

Lindisfjarn had finished a wide orbit around the party as they made their way westward to the ever growing mountains that formed the border of Dinnel's valley. The sky had clouded up, and a cold wind that brought snow flurries and cold that sought the joints of their bones plagued them. As the elven ranger joined the party he found Xarno in deep contemplation as the half-elven mage walked westward.

"My friend, I have news of importance that your ears need hear alone." Lindisfjarn said.

Xarno came out of his semi lucid state, and looked sternly at his friend of many summers. He nodded, and allowed the ranger to pull him out of line.

"What is it, Lindisfjarn?" Xarno asked.

"Goblinoids, their tracks are everywhere." Lindisfjarn said.

"How many have you seen?"

"I count about three or four, but their tracks are paralleling ours."

"Is that a significant finding?"

"From what I have gathered from Gipfel and Kehle, the goblinoids should only be moving in a line from the south to the north. Instead, the tracks lead from positions of cover to additional positions of cover. We are being tracked."

"So Gipfel was right?" Xarno asked.

"Aye, he speaks wisely, and I hear tell from the others of his people that he is regarded with much respect among his people, as though he were a chieftain among his tribe." Lindisfjarn said.

"Yes, yes. These tribal people are quite different from you or I. They have a limited social structure, unlike that of the elves or humans of the city."

"Do not discount what you do not know my friend. We must drop our civilized city ways and adopt a new method of moving through the valley. Our enemies have grown more in number as well as savage in the heart."

"Double your guard and enlist Kehle, and Gipfel's help. Our friends must not be kept in the dark for long. When do you think they will attack?" Xarno asked.

"They can attack us at will. We are in the open and few in number. The only thing that prevents them from attacking at this moment is the lack of knowledge they have about us."  The elven ranger replied.

"Your recommendation?"

"We do not stop for a moment, and continue into the hours of darkness."

"The humans will be a liability in the dark."

"I believe that is a choice we have to take. If we hold still as we do when we camp, we will present ourselves as a weak target. If we continue to move the raiding party that is possibly being directed against us will be strung out and not at full strength."

"Spoken with true insight, my friend."

Xarno patted his friend reassuringly on the shoulder and turned on his heal. Both friends ran to catch up with the group of moving adventurers.

"Dinnel!" The mage said as he reached the rear of the marching group.

The warrior priest stopped the march of the group, and everyone closed ranks as they caught their breath while sharing a sip from water skins. All eyes were on the mage as he began speaking to the group.

"We are very close to our goal, yet danger lurks around every turn. Nomadic goblinoids hunt us as we march westward to the safety of a new home. Lindisfjarn has seen the tracks of at least three scouts." The mage said.

Lindisfjarn nodded as he looked into the eyes of the group.

"We cannot stop our march. The threat is too near, and everyone will feel the potential loss if we decide to stop and rest. Our perimeter needs to be doubled as we continue our march. I ask that Gipfel and Kehle join in assisting our flankers. Boldar, as usual I ask that you take the place of honor and protect our queen and our king. Sartorius, you shall remain as rearguard with Smythe. Kjellinger, you march with Dinnel, while Garntay and I assist Gipfel and Kehle as flankers. The rest of you will walk tightly in the middle. Lindisfjarn, I ask you to expose yourself to danger, and help us find a safe path out of danger."

Eyes darted from face to face while bows were drawn. Tropfelina and Kaninchen pulled out their bows, and took a position near the flanks of the party's' main body. A concerned looked covered Xarno's face as he realized the sun was going down below the mountains to the west, and the terrain was beginning to rise in the same direction.

Lindisfjarn had chosen a direct path that led to a narrow pass in the distance. He had run for the space of what he thought to be about a thousand paces, and then had taken a position where he could monitor the trail. Above him he could hear talking, and realized it was bugbear scouts he could hear as they watched over the game trails from as rise above him to the north.

With cautious intention he began crawling through the cold wet grass in the low early evening light to a place where he could see the warm breath from the creatures as they chatted unaware of his presence. Slowly and stealthily he slipped in closer, and began to listen to their conversation.

The elven ranger had understood what they had said as the follow on body would mop up this group while the initial force only slowed them down. What Lindisfjarn had heard was a scout watching a scene from a battle in the hopes of getting a good seat. Finally in a superior position, the elven ranger stood in the increasing darkness, and focused on the center mass of the heat shapes before him.

With one arrow he cut down the scout on the right as the scout on the left went to relieve his bladder on some rocks a few paces away. When the returning guard returned he looked carefully at what lay before him, and then he too fell victim to the elf's arrow. Determined to see that his friends and allies had no harm come to them, the elven ranger hurriedly searched the bugbear scouts for any wealth and potential information. With none found during the search, Lindisfjarn hurriedly returned to the trail and waited for the party to link up with him.

Xarno made out the ranger as the elf stepped into his range of thermal vision. "What have you found my elven friend?" The mage asked.

"I just rid this world of two bugbear scouts that were perched on some high ground awaiting the battle to come. Two forces, one a small initial force and a large main body are on the way. We had better hope the Gods are on our side with this battle. I would guess that the initial force, although smaller than the main body is significantly larger than our force. We will be hard pressed to keep them away from us once they engage at close quarters." Lindisfjarn said.

"Where do you think?"

"Just entering the pass. As you can see the trail is substantially rising in grade. We must be ready for everything. I would expect a single frontal attack, or if they are smart a two pronged attack."

Xarno nodded as he tried to catch his breath. The party had closed in around the two friends.

"We will need as many protective spells as possible before we reach the approach to the pass above us my friends. Spell casters be ready for an attack from any direction. We must impress them to stay away from us, or we may end up fighting for our very lives by those who are enemies of happenstance."

"We can sweep around to another of the passes." Dinnel offered.

"No, in our state we would only spread our lines out as the least tired would easily out distance those who have exhausted themselves to ensure a strong roving perimeter." The mage replied.

"We could blaze through, and force ourselves through their lines." Boldar said.

"What we need is a ruse." Xarno said.

"A feint." Smythe said.

"Exactly. Something that will force them to look in a different direction other than the direction we are traveling."

"You can count me in." Smythe said.

"And I as well." Sartorius chimed in.

"You will need someone who can fight well." Gipfel said as he strode forward.

"A set of capable eyes, and good magic." Kjellinger said as he too stepped forward.

"My friends, you are all so willing to sacrifice yourselves in the name of others. How could I be considered by you as a friend?" Xarno asked.

"That is the easy part, friend." The bard said as he placed a warm hand on the elder half-elf's' shoulder. "We will do this, and accept the outcome. You help the others and my queen to safety with Dinnel and Lindisfjarn in the lead. We shall see you when we meet again. If not later on tomorrow it will be on the other side."

"You will need a signal to see that we have made the mouth of the pass that way you can disengage, if you can, and rally on me."

"Throw a rock." Sartorius said.

"A rock it shall be my brave friend." Xarno said as he reached into his pouch and retrieved a glowing stone.

The mage quickly dumped the continual light stone into the pouch from which it came.

The party began to look about each other in desperation, and realized it was a plan created by desperate people to help others. Quick good byes were said by all, and the four volunteers worked themselves into a steeper portion of the opening area near the mouth of the pass.

Xarno wasted no time ushering his remaining charges to a lane of safety. When their footsteps were out of hearing range, Kjellinger began to sing loudly a song of the beginning. His song brought strength to the limbs of his friends as he continued his verse. The grass around their feet was slick from the recent snow flurries, and had begun to freeze.

When the bard's song began, every eye in the upper part of the pass was diverted from protecting the pass' main access. Goblinoids stood and looked in the direction of the sound. The bugbear leaders conferred among themselves trying to decide how to deal with the new development.

"I say we split our force, and go looking for the singers of this terrible song of lies. How I hate elves." One chieftain said.

"If we split our force, those that remain are not as strong. How will we deal with a force that comes through the mouth of the pass?" Another chieftain asked.

"I say we do not split our force. We know where our quarry is. We should attack them now while they give away their position." A third chieftain added.

"What if it is a trick?" The second chieftain asked.

"A trick? Elves and humans are not as smart as bugbears. Besides, we are bigger, and might makes right." The first chieftain said in response to the second.

"We should attack. Even if they are maneuvering for a better position we should attack to improve our position." The third bugbear chieftain included.

The bugbear chieftains were in agreement, and decided to attack what they knew was out there. They rallied their warriors and set out in search of the singer. When they caught him the singer would pay with his life.

Lindisfjarn watched a large group of goblinoids leave their well-defended position in the direction of the song Kjellinger was singing. Even though the goblinoids were out of his range of thermal vision he could see them silhouetted against the gray snow laden clouds above.

He turned and went back to the party that awaited his signal to advance on the pass.

Xarno began to ask about the pass, but Lindisfjarn clamped a hand over the mages' mouth, and pushed him and others up the hill as he tried to quietly maintain silence.

When they reached the mouth of the pass, they found it to be unoccupied.

Xarno signaled for Boldar to come to his position, and the dwarf excused himself from the presence of Lady Erewan. When the burly dwarf arrived at the side of his lifelong friend Xarno spoke.

"Hold out your hand." The mage ordered.

As instructed the Torkrest warrior did as he was asked, and extended his hand palm upward.

"Throw the glowing stone as high and as far as you can toward the sound of Kjellinger's singing."

With all his strength he could muster, which for a dwarven warrior was a significant amount of force, he threw the stone skyward, and watched as the stone left a glowing trail of greenish white light in its wake.

All present on the field of battle saw the sign. Some took it as a sign from their gods, and took it as a portent of doom. Sartorius, ever watchful of the cloud covered night sky saw signal as it lit up the sky in a bright display of clever magic.

"I have to learn how to do that someday." He said.

"Learn what?" Kjellinger asked.

"How to make that." The warrior poet said as he pointed to the bouncing speck of light in the distance. "Wait, it was the signal. Our ruse worked they are through the pass!"

For Sartorius the bright light turned into stars as they were jumped upon from all sides by goblinoids. The three remaining members of the small party began fighting for their very lives. Swords sparked against blade and axe. The sound of running feet signaled the coming of a larger portion of the enemy.

Kjellinger released a fireball into the midst of the sound, and lit up the night sky.

"They said nothing about mages!" Many of the goblinoids cried as they sought a retreat from the burning magical fire.

Gipfel and Smythe were backed up against the edge of a precipice, and were giving a good account of their predicament. Bodies of slain goblinoids lay scattered about the two men' feet. The smell and sound of death had begun to fill the air.

Kjellinger used bugbears' body to hold his sword as he prepared another spell to ward off those who might carry off the body of his fallen comrade and friend. A bolt of lightning ripped through the remaining ranks of goblinoid warriors. Without time to grasp his weapon, the bard immediately engaged a large bugbear hand to hand.

Kjellinger' attack broke the giant goblinoids' nose, and forced the monstrous warrior back. Quickly, the warrior bard grasped two daggers from his bandoleer, and threw them deeply into the creature' chest. As the bugbear fell he tried to grasp the two protruding weapons from his chest, but his attempts were fruitless.

Smythe was concentrating on his right flank in hopes of escaping a deadly fall to the rocks below him. Looking to his left, the reluctant warrior could see that his attackers overwhelmed Gipfel. The giant tribal warrior was struggling for a foothold against a growing weight of attackers.

Violently Gipfel shook at those who would try to push him off the cliff. Enraged by the man' willingness to fight at all costs, the remaining goblinoids attacked the giant of a man, and with one last grasp the giant man held those who stabbed and slashed at him in his arms. He pivoted toward Smythe who was trying to peel goblins and hobgoblins off the man.

Gipfel' right leg failed under the weight and onslaught of his attackers. The mass of fighting strength carried his would be attackers into the air below him. The last words heard from the warrior were thought to be "Kehle! Bear my son!"

Smythe was too busy fighting to gain ground away from the ledge to see how the fall had ended. He did hear the sickening sound of flesh meeting rock after high velocity flight. The reluctant warrior then dodged attack after attack as the goblinoids fought desperately to stop the warriors and bard from passing their lines. Smythe sent several goblins and hobgoblins to their deaths in the same way the tribal warrior had killed ten.

Sartorius awoke in a daze with a splitting headache. Kjellinger was standing over the warrior poet, and cast a magic missile spell at a large bugbear that still remained. Around him there lay dead and dying goblinoids. Smythe could be seen pulling his blade from the midsection of a standing bugbear. As the sword was retrieved, the bugbear' entrails spilled onto the cold wet grass and dirt with a sickening splash. The bugbear tried to replace what was removed, but Smythe quickly lopped the creature's head off.

The warrior poet stood on shaky legs, and picked up his sword. He watched with disgust as Smythe walked across the field of battle and impaled goblinoid warriors who were still moving and moaning.

"We need to leave." Kjellinger said.

Smythe nodded as he killed the last hobgoblin, and walked up to Sartorius. "Can you walk?" The reluctant warrior asked Sartorius.

Sartorius nodded as he stood with his hands on his knees and his torso bent over. Blood had begun trickling into his right eye.

"We had better get you patched up when we link up with the others. Anyone see Gipfel?" Kjellinger asked.

"He did not make it. About ten goblins mobbed him and pushed him over the side of the cliff. Should we find his body?" Smythe said.

"We do not have the time, hopefully we can gather his remains later when things cool down."

"We had better get moving up the hill, and meet with the others."

Both the bard and the reluctant warrior helped Sartorius gather his wits, and assisted him up the hill. Several times he had to rest. Kjellinger and Smythe denied him the luxury of closing his eyes. Every time he tried, his two friends would roust him and they would again mount a climb against the steep grassy slope at the mouth of the pass face.

Xarno cast furtive glances back at the now quiet and serene mouth of the pass. Earlier they had scene the orange yellow of a fireball followed by the bluish-white flash of a lightning bolt, which in turn was followed, by another fireball. The sounds of steel clashing on steel followed as the sounds of battle rose up the slope into the pass itself.

"We need to go back!" Lindisfjarn yelled.

"We could, but we would not arrive in time to avail our friends. The gods and our friend's wits are all that can help them stay alive. If we turn back now we may put ourselves in danger, and that is what they stayed behind to prevent." Xarno said without reservation.

Garntay grasped at his friend' arm and stared at him with a pleading look to stay with the party. "We have invested so much effort now. Do not let it go to waste." The high priest said.

The elven ranger heard the wisdom of his friend' words then returned to the party. The silence coming from the party was deafening. Quillan was the only member of the party who was making noises. Erewan had her son to her breast as she walked quietly. She hummed one of the songs Kjellinger was known to sing while on the road. Gingerly she wiped one of her tears from her sons' cheek.

The party of adventurers, now short four members, made their way through the pass, and began descending into the valley of the five mountains. The terrain of the valley was different than the valley beyond the five mountains. Trees were everywhere. The first tree was found as Kaninchen stumbled into it in the middle of the night.

Xarno smiled, if anyone could actually see him smile in the dark, and ordered a halt for the night. Everyone was silent, even Quillan who was fast asleep in his mothers' arms. No one spoke, and few of them slept. The camp was kept cold while Garntay passed out jerked venison and hard tack to the members of the party.

When the following morning arrived, Dinnel was the first in line to lead the main party into the valley. He looked at the tree, and saw a large mask suspended from a low-lying branch. The others, not wanting to be left behind dutifully allowed the warrior priest to lead the way toward the home of his parents.

By late in the afternoon the three adventuring companions were following a lane that was lined by tall fences. Odd-looking animals of a type none of the three friends had seen in their lives were held in herds behind the tall fences. Each animal had a body resembling that of a camel, and had tall necks with plenty of thick richly colored fur. The colors were that of earth tones. Tufts of the fur were like sheep' wool, but was thicker and much coarser than that of a sheep or a goat. Few of the animals were afraid to approach the fences. Each had a call that was high pitched and stuttering.

By morning, the three adventurers had ventured to the top of what they thought was the face. When light grew bright enough they realized they climbed almost half the mountain. The view was spectacular, and below them they could make out large tracts of timber as well as cleared fields. A single house sat off to one corner of the pleasant valley. Kjellinger surmised it to be the house of Dinnel's relatives. The bard selected an animal path that led in the direction of the single house.

By now the two sturdy friends were almost dragging Sartorius. The wound above his right eye had stopped bleeding earlier in the night, but his urge to sleep had not diminished. Kjellinger worried that his friend might go to sleep and not wake up from a severe concussion caused by the sneak attack from the goblinoid warriors. Sartorius was as helpful as he could be considering his condition at the moment. Fearfully, the three men proceeded in the direction they thought was best. Kjellinger and Smythe would cast occasional glances backward over their shoulders to the pass as they looked for any sign of the goblinoid horde entering the valley.

The sun was beginning its descent in the mountain sky when the three friends had reached the valley floor. More signs of habitation were evident by a series of uniquely constructed irrigation canals and ponds. As arid as the air was the surrounding vegetation was green and rich with life. Birds whistled and called about while squirrels chittered as they went about their daily routine of gathering food and nest building materials for their pending young.

Dinnel was tired, and knew if he were tired the rest of the party had to be exhausted, especially both children. The older Tropfelina had put her bow to the carry while Kaninchen still carried his, but the weapon was not held closely. In fact the lad held only the bow while the string hung below his wrist, and a portion of one of the bows ends trailed on the ground.

He was home, and knew he was safe from those who would attempt to penetrate the ring of five mountains that made up the valley. The warrior priest had lived in the valley for almost two decades before he left the fortified valley. After seeing the hanging mask, he knew that certain things had not changed. Goblinoids and orcs from outside the valley were still trying to get in. His father and mother hung masks from low-lying branches of large trees to scare away the creatures. In most cases the masks worked, but the more curious or belligerent creatures were undaunted in their attempts to raid the farm.

When they came upon the first domestic animals on the farm, most of the party members stood in amazement.

"It is an alpaca. My parents raise them for their wool and their meat. Fasja always keeps a number of them so he can transport materials on their backs. Each animal can carry up to seventeen stone on its back in a saddle bag type arrangement." Dinnel explained.

"They are so strange looking." Kehle said.

"They will look even stranger after the shearing festival. Ever seen a bald camel?"

The nomadic woman shook her head.

"My father says they are related to camels. How I will never know."

"What other types of animals do you raise on this farm?" Erewan asked

"Well my father has tried his hand at about everything. See the canals with water in them? Before I left, I helped him dig most of the canals to transport irrigation water from a small lake that he has dammed up. We use the water to irrigate crops of alfalfa, barley, flax, wheat, as well as other staple crops that my parents use as food throughout the year. The alfalfa is used to feed the stock they keep on hand including this alpaca right here." The warrior priest said as he rubbed the alpaca's neck that had come close to the high wooden fence.

"Your parents sound as though they are very industrious." Xarno said.

"Which is why I left the farm. I was too caught up in myself, and not the needs of my family."

"So you decided to return?"

"Exactly, and yours was as good an excuse as any."

"Your parents have carved out a good life for themselves. We would be happy to help if they will have us." Garntay interjected.

"Speak for yerself'." Boldar interrupted. "A dwarfs' place is in the ground."

"There are mines here, but nothing to marvel Tethyamere." The warrior priest said.

"Well that makes things a tad different laddie. Why did nay ya' say that before?"

Dinnel winked at Xarno who smiled back at the warrior priest.

"Take us to your parents, Dinnel." The mage asked.

They walked through a plowed field, and bizarre animals Kjellinger had never seen before stared back at him. Sartorius was exhausted and craving water, but none that was potable was available for the warrior poet to drink. Kjellinger hoped that he had not become side tracked, and taken a wrong turn. Twice he had to climb tall trees so he could get his bearings on the single large house in the distance.

Each time he had climbed he was able to see the long stone house and out buildings, each with a thatched roof. The long house as Kjellinger began to think of it had wispy trails of white smoke coming from a large black hole in the yellow thatched roof. From other houses he had seen the style was not similar to anyone configuration he had seen before, but if Dinnel's parents called it home it must be cozy on the inside.

With his bearings reset, he guided both Smythe and Sartorius while he and the reluctant warrior carried the injured Sartorius as they progressed albeit slowly toward their destination. More and more of the farm Dinnel had described in the past was beginning to take shape before their eyes.

As exhaustion set in with both men who helped carry the injured Sartorius toward the long house the frequency with which they had to rest was beginning to increase. Kjellinger's mouth was parched, and the pit of his stomach ached from lack of food. The hunger pangs were something the bard could live with, but the lack of water was something he had to just put out of his mind. He knew that when they reached the farmhouse all their troubles would go away.

Smythe too had thoughts of potential relief as they hopefully neared the farmhouse Dinnel had often described in his tales of home. The reluctant warrior put as much of the pain and grief as possible out of his mind, but the one fragment was that of Gipfel falling off the cliff with about ten goblinoids on and over him. Fear of having to explain the facts to both Kehle and Tropfelina was always in the back of his mind.

Finally he put the thought to rest with the belief that he must be as direct as possible to both the woman and the young girl. Truth was the quotient that mattered. The large group of goblinoids who had lay in wait for just such an occasion had jumped them. How the creatures had known they were coming was beyond Smythe. Surprisingly three of the four warriors had survived. Had it not been for the capabilities of Kjel, or the strength of Gipfel more would have been killed.

Sartorius was lucky; he had just been hit on the head. When the fight was taken to the goblinoids Smythe and Gipfel were the ones who had absorbed the bulk of the fighting. Fortunately for his new friend, Sartorius was a long way from death, and the bard was as good a warrior as he was a magician and soothsayer.

The group of friends who protected Erewan, and her son Quillan were as much a band of brothers as any the reluctant warrior had ever known. For their understanding, he would always be grateful, and for their patience he was thankful. Two women in the present party intrigued him. The elven princess Dahljanna was a charming girl who had instantly won Smythe' admiration. He would have liked to know her brother even better. Potentially there would be more time for that as the days passed.

Kehle was an enigma. Had she been having an affair under the nose of her sister Tropfelina? Smythe did not know the answer, but to pursue such a woman as Kehle, in this land would be a valiant quest. His heart smiled as he thought of how she carried herself, and her ability to fend for herself was almost unmatched with the exception of Lindisfjarn, the devoted elven ranger.

Smythe thought more and more on the idea that he had feelings for Kehle. He had known many women, and had been spurned by many of those women he had known. None had presented a love interest to him like Kehle. With glad thoughts he continued to support his friend, and the three warriors trudged along the path as the sun fell lower in the western horizon.

The large house almost appeared from nowhere as the large party emerged from a tightly knit group of trees. Geese hissed, and honked as the strangers appeared in the yard of the main house. A woman of tall height and dark hair looked up from where she was working to notice the new comers.

"Fasja! Fasja! Come quickly! We have visitors!" The dark haired woman yelled.

Dinnel walked directly to the woman he knew as his mother. Her elven features were sharp, and her gaze picked out her son immediately. A man ran from a side entrance of one of the smaller out buildings. A bow in hand, and a sword at his belt he ran toward the woman's voice.

"What is it?" He yelled as he rounded the corner of his home.

"Dinnel has returned." She said as she rushed into her son's arms.

Dinnel was smothered in the grasp of his mother, and whom the others presumed to be his father. Moments later several men and women appeared with weapons in their hands as they had thought it was an emergency of the gravest kind.

Smiles replaced looks of concern, and hands followed guiding chins as they waved to the son of those who had started the farm.

"Where did you come from?" The woman asked.

"We have been traveling since High Moon." Dinnel said.

"Who are these people?" The two parents asked.

"I am dreadfully sorry, but we did not know who would be about when we arrived in the valley. I have much to tell you, both good and bad. I want you to meet my friends from High Moon."

"Please come in, you must stay and rest. You are welcome in our house for as long as you desire." Dinnel's father said.

"Thank you for your hospitality, but there is much to say before we continue with any cordiality." Xarno said as he stepped forward. "I am Xarno, and your son has said we could seek refuge here."

"Refuge? What are you running from?"

"May we come inside and explain what and who has come to your door?"

"Certainly. I apologize for my lack of respect. Please come inside."

The party with Dinnel as his parents swarmed him went into the house, and was followed by those who had come to the rescue.

Dinnel proceeded to introduce Erewan and her infant son explaining who they were and why they were here.

"I fear I bring great evil upon this house, but I had nowhere to turn. Zhentarim spies would have reached us from the Dark Hold." Erewan said as she looked into the eyes of both Dinnel's parents.

"We have met once before, high priestess of the faith." Garntay said.

Dinnel's mother placed a hand before her mouth in sincere surprise at the sight of Garntay and Lindisfjarn.

"I am Tante, Dinnel's mother. This is Fasja, Dinnel's father. Yes I was a high priestess until the elven retreat." Tante said.

"I have numbered you in my prayers to He who guides the faithful. I know your heart has not been removed from his lists of followers." Garntay said.

"A pleasure it is to have one of the high priests of the elven lands in my modest home. My husband and I have worked the land to get it to the state where it is in now."

"Dinnel has brought forth many pleasurable experiences from his youth."

"Who are the others in your group, son?" Fasja asked.

"My dwarven friend, Boldar. You have met Garntay and Lindisfjarn as well as Lady Erewan. Please meet Lady Erewan's sister, Dahljanna, and my friend Xarno. Also I would like you to meet my newest friends Kehle and her little sister and brother Tropfelina and Kaninchen. Our number has been recently reduced by four with the advent of the rising of the goblinoids to the east. Some of our closest friends stayed behind to ensure that we could safely make it through the pass. I, as are we all, am afraid that we will not be seeing them.

Kjellinger pushed himself through the heavy brush. The house was not that far away, and he had heard the sounds of barnyard fowl in the distance through the trees. He had a promise to keep, and no one was going to deny him the opportunity to fulfill it. When he helped Smyth pull Sartorius through the heavy brush of the lush bottomland he had seen a group of people he thought included Xarno and Garntay go into a house with several strangers.

"Come friends, we have wounds to mend as well as people to see." The bard said as he pushed himself and pulled his two other friends in the direction he sought.

"Who were these other friends that allowed you to continue and remained behind to allow your safe passage?" Fasja asked.

"One of them was Kjellinger." Dinnel said.

"The bard?"

"The same. He gave his life along with three other great men."

After saying that the sound of geese hissing and ducks quacking could be heard from outside. One of the farm hands opened the door, and went outside.

"Fasja! We have more visitors!" The hand said.

Steel was drawn, and the party went outside as they went to confront those who would intervene on the peace of the farmland.

Most of the party's mouths dropped wide open as they saw three friends hobble toward the farm from out of the thick brush.

"Kjellinger!" Erewan said

"How about a little help. Sartorius is hurt badly." The bard said.

Many hands reached forth, and grabbed for the wounded warrior. The three friends were quickly ushered into the long house, and given seats or bid to lie on pallets. As Tante tended to them, Garntay, and Dinnel Xarno began to ask questions about the encounter.

"I noticed Gipfel was not with you when you returned." Xarno said observantly.

"He fell during the battle." Kjellinger said.

"Did you mark the location of his body?"

"We could not. Smythe was the one to see him fall."

"Could you tell me what happened?"

"We departed the company of our friends, and went in the direction we thought would bring us the largest contact which in turn would buy you the most time. Out of the blue we were attacked, and that was when Sartorius was knocked unconscious. I stood where he had fallen, and began to engage the goblinoids with combat spells. From there I was unaware of Smythe and Gipfel's predicament."

Xarno turned to Smythe. "What do you remember?"

The reluctant warrior sighed in disfavor to questions put before him by Xarno. "We were pressed up against the edge of a cliff face. Both Gipfel and I fought until we were mobbed by a group of goblinoids. Most of them had attacked Gipfel, but under the circumstances I was unable to provide him with any assistance. Because of my inability, due to the excessive number of attackers, Gipfel was pushed over the cliff with at least a third of the number that had originally attacked us. They were on us so fast; we did not have a chance. The two that won the fight were Gipfel and Kjellinger. The last thing I remember of Gipfel was him slowly turning to his right as he fell off the cliff, but I could not see him hit the bottom of the cliff."

"Was it too dark?" The mage asked.

"Too dark, and I was too involved with the fight at hand. There were six bugbears in the group, and at least half of us were not experienced enough to fight them in combat." 

"Most of us have been in the same situation at one time or another. You cannot blame yourself for events that are meant to happen."

Smythe looked away, and tried not to look at Tropfelina, who was shuddering in tears. The young teenage girl had gone out by herself just days before, and the camp champion had tried to rescue her. He in turn was captured by goblinoids further to the west. After all the promises and all the trekking along their route of adventure, Gipfel had paid the ultimate price after Kehle had found the strangers and ask them to help her recover her sister and older friend.

"Can we talk about this at a different time. I really do not feel comfortable answering such questions in the close quarters." Smyth said.

Respecting the man's space, Xarno nodded and left the reluctant warrior to his own devices. As the mage stood he looked at Tropfelina who stood shuddering in her older sister's arms. Kehle had a look of bewilderment on her face. Both the young teenage girl and Kehle's world had collapsed around their shoulders.

Tante was in her cooking space within the thatched long house. She returned with a platter carrying three ceramic mugs. Each of the three newly returned friends was given a mug to drink from. A few moments after the contents had been consumed the three friends were fast asleep.

"They will sleep for hours with that mixture in their bodies." Tante said.

"We all need rest, but first we need to talk about some arrangements." Xarno said as he looked at Fasja and Tante. "Erewan will need to stay here until her son is old enough to travel on his own. Dahljanna will be sent home with an elven contingent when they arrive. The three human nomads will need a place to stay, and Dinnel had promised their father, a clan chief that they would be welcome on or near these lands."

"I see no reason to send anyone out of the valley." Fasja said. "It is a large place, and has many places yet undisturbed. I welcome the nomads who will be an asset to the Lost Vale, what you commonly refer to as the valley of five mountains.  A friend of Dinnel's is more than welcome at our hearth."

"I will need to make preparations to send for the nomads, and inform them of your decision. Is there anything you would like to say that I can relay to Kehle's father?" Xarno asked.

"Make him aware of the farm and that the animals we raise are not for his people. If he is in need of certain items like food until his people are situated then he can come speak with me." Fasja said.

"I will inform him of such, and I will also tell him that the valley is as beautiful as Dinnel had described it. When I am rested I will prepare for my trip alone."

"Alone!" A cluster of voices exclaimed with sadness.

"Do not worry. I will use my magic and fly to find Kehle's father. On the return I will help guide his people to the valley." Xarno said matter of factly.

"What about the three of us?" Kaninchen asked.

"Well we shall see what sort of trouble my friends can keep you out of while I am away."

After eating and resting through the night, Smythe woke up while it was still dark. He worked his way over those who were sleeping on the floor. Quietly, the reluctant warrior opened the long house door, and stepped onto the open ground in front of the long house. Looking up at the stars was enjoyable as he peered at the moon lit snow covered mountaintops.

His sleep, even though drug induced had been fit full. After several hours of staring at a dark ceiling had he the wherewithal to step outside. The night was cold, and the cool grip of the early spring cold made him feel alive. Behind him the door could be heard opening, and the reluctant warrior turned to see who would be joining him on this cool dry night.

Kehle stepped out into the cool night air. She was not dressed for the high altitude and cool temperatures. Goose bumps prickled the surface of her skin, and she rubbed her upper arms as she held them close to her chest. She had heard someone leave the long house, and needed another to speak with. Not until she was fully outside and into the front yard of the long house did she realize the lone person standing by the corral was the warrior Smythe.

Smythe turned to walk away not wishing to speak with Kehle for fear of having to deal with the subject of Gipfel's untimely death.

"Wait." Kehle whispered loudly.

Smythe decided it was better to avoid any confrontation at the moment, and hurriedly began walking toward the larger out buildings. Kehle increased the stride of her long legs easily catching up to him. She gently placed a hand on his left shoulder.

"Please, wait. I would like to talk to you about some things. You do not have to answer, but please hear me out." She said.

Smythe stopped walking, and turned to face the woman.

"I do not blame you for Gipfel's death. Dying in battle was the way he wanted his life to end. We cannot choose the time, place, or method of our deaths. Do not hold yourself responsible. We all know the risks you four took, and we are lucky to have the three of you return. As it is Sartorius should have died in that fight. All three of you were very brave, at least as brave as Gipfel." Kehle said with sincerity.

"I blame myself for his death because I was there, and I was helpless to do anything. Maybe it was the fear that his death could have been mine, and maybe it should have been me instead of him." The reluctant warrior said.

Kehle embraced Smythe. "You did the best you could considering the circumstances, and I do not fault you for that." The tall woman said.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"If you are so inclined."

"Were you and Gipfel having a relationship out of sight of Tropfelina?"

"How did you know?"

"He told me as much before his death."

"How so?"

"As he fell, he yelled these words, 'Kehle, bare my son.' I saw him no more after that, he just looked at me as the goblinoids were tearing into him while he fell."

Kehle looked away, and then returned her gaze to the man's face. "I am carrying his child. Tropfelina does not know this."

"How far along are you?"

"I am about a month late if that is what you mean."

Smythe looked into the tall raven-haired woman's eyes as they glinted in the pale moonlight. "I am not one to do people favors, so if you decide against this I will understand. Gipfel and I were not even the closest of friends, but I feel as though I am tied to him in some way. Could you, or would you see it in your heart to be my wife? Maybe our union would mend the hurt that has happened to the both of us. We could live here, in this valley while we help Fasja and Tante."

His frosty gray eyes looked at Kehle as he fished for the answer he hoped she would reply with.

"I cannot give you my answer, although the solution is honorable in your case. There are some things I must consider before I give you my answer." She said.

"If you need anything I will be here." Smythe said.

Kehle looked at the frosty gray eyes, and then turned back toward the long house. Smythe watched her as she opened the door, and disappeared once the door was closed after her. He breathed a sigh of relief now that he had gotten what he wanted to say off his chest. The reluctant warrior again returned his gaze to the starlit sky that held a half moon. Moonlight illuminated everything out in the open, and the reluctant warrior could make out the various out buildings of the farm including the numerous corrals and paddocks used by Fasja and Tante to hold their stock. The animals were quiet, and only the occasional sound came from animals changing weight from foot to foot as they slept standing up.
 

So ends the seventh segment of The Lost Vale
 

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