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“The river is full of snow runoff, so she runs high and fast,” Dinnel said. The rowers had to work at keeping the boat from swirling with the eddies in the water. Many trees had been undermined from the river banks by fast-moving water. The remains were visible, as claw like limbs reached for the air above the water. Once inside the protected shelter of the pool, the party could see many barges and sailing ships. Vessels moored to the ten piers flew several flags that denoted which trading coster they belonged to. “Okay people. This is the deal,” Kjellinger said. “We need to find a coster traveling to Shadowdale. We do not care how far they are actually going, or what type of cargo they carry. “Our survival depends on numbers, with as many guards as possible,” The bard said. Heads nodded at the reality. “So spread out along the waterfront and start asking who is going where.” Xarno added, “After each ship or barge you consult with, come back to this boat to find out if we need to keep looking,” More nods as the faering closed in with the quay wall. An empty pontoon barge and an accompanying accommodation ladder were visible just straight ahead of them. The outrigger was tied up, and the adventurers stepped clear of the boat as they stretched legs bunched up for hours. “Boldar, Erewan, Garntay, and Lindisfjarn. The four of you stay with me. Make it look like we are reprovisioning, so go through your packs and take stock of what we need,” Xarno ordered. The warrior priest and Kjellinger split in opposite directions. They each had five of ten piers to look at. As they spoke with captains and guard captains, each of the two inquiring party members was either given the brush off, or asked if they would like to join a ship that was going into the wrong direction. With each inquiry, the two men returned with a negative report. Kjellinger neared a large barge with the banner of the Thousand Heads trading coster. The ship’s master was on the pier speaking with a heavily armored human. The bard approached them, and opted for the direct approach. “Excuse me good people, I am Kjellinger from High Moon. May I ask where you are making way for, and do you need additional help along the way?” A well-dressed human, obviously the ship’s master, turned toward the armored human and spoke. “You did say you were low on guards, didn’t you?” “Well sir, we know nothing of this man,” the armored human said. “I need competent people watching this cargo, and I do not wish to lose it,” the master said. “Yes, sir,” the armored human said as he turned toward Kjellinger. “Kjellinger is it? Well it seems today is your lucky day. How many are in your party?” Kjellinger counted on his fingers. “We are seven; six males and one female. All we ask is passage, and we will help as you see fit.” “Where are you bound wayfarer?” The armored human asked. “We are bound for Shadowdale, on business of our own, but for needs of security we would like to gain the company of more swords,” Kjellinger said. “You may sign on if you wish. I cannot secure any special billeting for the female, but she is welcome, if you keep her out of trouble and harm’s way. I am Bharavan, the guard captain for this cruise. You are not stout enough to be a pole man, but I can use sword arms and archers. You can heft a bow can’t you?” Bharavan asked. “Why yes I can. I will bring my comrades over, and we can sign on,” the bard said. “We depart early in the morning. I still am assigning my guards to their positions. So you may see the sights around the Pool of Yeven, or what there is to see,” the guard captain said. Kjellinger nodded and walked immediately to the quay wall, where the rest of the party was standing. Dinnel had a glum look on his face. “How did you fare, my friend?” The skald asked. “Terrible. You?” The warrior priest retorted. “A barge four piers down to the north belonging to the Thousand Heads trading coster, and they are willing to book us for passage, and guard duty to Shadowdale,” Kjellinger replied. The party’s faces lit up with smiles. “They depart in the morning, so we have time to relax and take in the sights,” the bard said. “The sights! You half-elven half wit!” Boldar said. “First you come up with this boat expedition, and now we need to team up with the Thousand Heads,” Boldar exclaimed angrily. “What is wrong with the Thousand Heads trading coster?” Dinnel asked in defense of his friend. “They are all rough necks. Where they go, trouble is soon to follow. They are picked for the roughest and toughest cargoes. All of them are adventurers with road experience. They must be hauling a tough cargo for Shadowdale, or they plan on going into rough areas beyond that,” Boldar said. “Look people, we cannot act as though we do not like each other. In fact we are comrades: All of us have trained under Thenedain, or the Cormanthyrian legions. Personal differences aside, we have to complete this mission. If the Thousand Heads is all that is available, then so be it. Dinnel could not find any passage, but Kjellinger could. Unless you, Boldar, have any further positive suggestions, I recommend you keep your little dwarven-trap shut, or I will turn your dwarven ale into buttermilk,” Xarno said. Boldar nodded and said, “I apologize, Kjell, for being so rash.” “No harm taken Boldar. Maybe you can tell me more about this Thousand Heads trading coster,” Kjellinger said. “Well if they are not leaving until tomorrow, then they have a camp nearby,” the dwarf said. “If they have a camp nearby, then they will have gaming,” yhe bard said. “And drinking!” Boldar added. “Now you two would not be planning on some trouble, would you?” Xarno asked. “No, I would not think of it,” the skald replied. “Good. I do not want you two, or anyone else to become a little dog-eared.,” the mage said. Kjellinger reached into his pack and removed a little bag he always carried. Then he and Boldar proceeded north along the perimeter of the pool, which was a large lake, and looked for the Thousand Heads banner. A massive banner was staked out beside a large tent. Men were lined up, and the smell of food wafted in the breeze from the tent. As the two adventurers came closer, they could smell fish, and steak cooking on a grill. Boldar and Kjellinger both peeled the door of the tent open. The smell of meat sizzling on a grill made their mouths water. “Hey! You!” A cook said behind a grill said. Boldar jerked a thumb at himself, “Me?” He asked. “No, your half breed friend that just walked in with you,” the cook’s companion said. “What’s the matter? You don’t like half elves?” Kjellinger said as he inched his hand toward his throwing dagger. “No, we don’t like half breeds!” The cook said so everyone in the tent looked at the newcomers. “Hmm. Sounds like you have a problem,” the bard said as he started casting a spell. “Yeah? What sort of problem is that?” The cook’s companion said with a greasy smile. “Boldar, do you see that?” The skald asked. “For a moment, I thought I saw something,” Boldar said as he played along. “What?” The cook asked as he looked at Kjellinger, and then his companion behind the grill. Both men smiled stupidly as they saw the bard point. “On your shoulder, there! I see it, a huge spider,” the skald said as he closed within half an arms reach of the two cooks. “Where? I hate spiders!” The first cook said. “Don’t move,” Kjellinger said. The bard snapped his hand quickly and caught the cook on the shoulder. The cook winced in pain, “did you get it?” The first cook asked. “Yeah I got him, but you better check your buddy though,” the bard said as he opened his palm and exposed the illusory spider, that was but a grease smear on his palm, which Kjellinger wiped off on his dirty doublet. The first cook started hitting the second about the head and shoulders, “I got ‘em. I got ‘em!” He said as his comrade collapsed on the floor. “Yes, you got him my friend!” The bard said as he stood and smiled. “You know you were very lucky. I believe that was a form of a phase spider.” “I heard of them. Hey, I owe you friend, and I take back all I said about you before. What can I get you?” The cook said as he started gathering plates and stacking them with salmon steaks and prime rib. “Hey, get your little friend to help you out, buddy. Here, take some more of this,” the cook said as he offered a pot of steaming corn and a bowl of fresh butter. Boldar willingly grabbed the pot and helped Kjellinger to the door of the tent, as the second cook started moaning. The first cook started kicking at his comrade. “How long is what you did in there going to last?” Boldar asked. “Long enough for us to get out of here, and give this to our adventuring companions,” Kjellinger said. “You are cruel, friend bard,” the dwarf said. “Nobody calls me half-breed,” the skald said under his breath. They returned to their comrades with food aplenty. Xarno and the others looked about themselves. “Where did you get this?” Xarno asked. Boldar interceded, “compliments of the chef!” “If by chance you hear about phase spiders in the camp, just go along with it, Okay?” Kjellinger said. “Who called you a half-breed?” Dinnel asked. “Dinnel!” The bard said. The party ate heartily, and Lindisfjarn passed around his bag of elven wine. Xarno laughed as Boldar retold the events within the tent. Dinnel and Garntay were rolling in their makeshift chairs as Boldar imitated the cook, and how he beat up his friend trying to kill the illusionary spider. “You are terrible,” the princess said. “I’ve been told that by people of less station before,” Kjellinger said with a grin. Xarno stood and stretched. “Well, I am going to turn in,” the mage said. Dinnel looked at Kjellinger, “what are your plans for the evening, my friend?” “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if a dicing game could be found somewhere in the middle of that mass of adventurers. So I guess I have to go look for it and make some money for us on the road. Most of these people have already gotten paid, and I would like to get my hands on some of it,” the bard said. “Mind if I tag along?” Dinnel asked. “What about me?” Boldar asked. “Hey why not?” The skald said. True to form, Kjellinger homed in on the local dice game. He removed a spare set of dice from his secret little pouch, and hid them in a small pocket in the sleeve of his doublet. He had them specially made in Sembia for just this purpose. The game was noisy. Pipe smoke filled the air. Men yelled if their number came up, and others moaned if their number did not. Coins of all denominations covered a table top. “Hey! Anyone minds if I play?” Kjellinger asked. “You got coins?” A rough looking player asked. “Yes, my friend, I do have coins,” the bard said as he stepped up to a corner and let his bag of coppers spill on the table. “What is the buy in?” “Ten copper, five silver, or one gold,” the rough voice said. Kjellinger counted out ten copper, and tossed them into the corner of the table. He played until his copper was gone. Dinnel tugged at his sleeve. “No my friend, I am just getting started. I have not rolled yet,” the skald said. “If you have more coin, it is your roll now,” rough voice said. Kjellinger brought out a pouch he knew was full of fifty gold coins. “Let us see your money,” the gruff voice said. “Oh! I did not want that bag. That is for me mum,” Kjellinger said, as he extracted another pouch from his belt. He removed the spare set of dice from his sleeve without anyone noticing, especially when he let twenty platinum pieces clatter onto the table. “Now let us play for some real money.” The dice were handed to him, and he placed them into the pouch the platinum came from as he tucked the pouch into his belt. The bard’s first pass was a flop, but his second and third scored big on the roll, as his number came up both times on the table. In time he had soaked the table of their money, and had won back what he had lost. Everything was working out well until the gruff voice spoke up, “I think them is rigged dice buddy.” “You think so?” Kjellinger asked, as he removed the pouch with the dice in it on the table. He scooped his money after palming the good dice from the bag. Then he grabbed the fixed dice, and dropped the good dice on the table. His number rolled up. “What do you know? Nothing is wrong with them,” he said. The bard scooped the rest of the money onto the bad dice and winked at the players when he left with Boldar and Dinnel, as the players rolled the dice trying to figure out if they had been swindled. Back at their camp, Dinnel slapped Kjellinger on the shoulder, “I will never play dice with you again!” Kjellinger began counting the money out and separated his fifty copper and twenty platinum coins, after he stowed the dice in his pouch. The bard counted out two-hundred-fifty gold in various denominations, and split it up evenly among the party. “How did you do it?” Boldar asked. “They want to see your money, so you let them. It is later when you throw the whammy at them,” the bard said. “So you intentionally lost your first fifty, and then sucked them in with the platinum,” the dwarf said as he nodded his head. “How did you get the dice on the table? After the platinum was on the table it took two rolls before you won any money back.” “They are made that way,” Kjellinger said. “Who?” The dwarf asked. “A gnome I know in Sembia,” the skald answered. “Where in Sembia?” Boldar asked. “Now that is a secret,” the bard said. The two remaining adventurers went to sleep under the stars, and outside the din of the camp. In the morning, Garntay woke the party. Men were stirring in the camp, but no activity was seen on the piers. Garntay prepared a morning meal, not knowing when the opportunity would arise for another hot meal on their trip upriver. Dinnel and Lindisfjarn took the faering, and rowed it to up where the Thousand Heads coster barge was tied. They tied the faering up to a nearby cleat, in hopes the master would allow them to tie it to the barge. When they returned, Garntay had the meal ready. The party ate in silence, watching the pier for any activity. After they had eaten, they packed their equipment. The adventurers walked to the pier and waited for the guard captain Bharavan to appear. Kjellinger saw Bharavan appear from the center of camp. The guard captain walked up to Kjellinger. “As promised sir. I have brought my party. This is the party leader and mage Xarno,” the bard said. “A spell slinger eh? Good, I could use some artillery on this trip. I was told by my men that a half-elf and a dwarf picked them clean dicing last night. Do you know anything about that?” Bharavan asked Kjellinger. “No, I was resting under my blankets last night sir,” the skald lied. “If they see you, they will want to get their money back, and try to kill you,” Boldar said. “We will deal with it as it comes, my friend. Why don’t you stay with Garntay for the time being?” Kjellinger said. A signal came from the barge to board, and the party boarded with the rest of the crew. The guard captain walked aft from the forward part of the barge where a large transom had been built over the center of the barge. “Pole men! Take your positions.” Bharavan yelled. Twelve men on each side of the barge lined up with poles in hand. Garntay elbowed Lindisfjarn, and they moved from the barge to the faering. The two untied the faering from its moorings and attached it securely to a bollard. “Line handlers! Release number two line!” Bharavan yelled. “Release number four line!” The guard captain ordered. “Release number one line!” Bharavan ordered. The mooring lines were untied in order from aft to fore of the barge. “Pole men! Push us clear!” The guard captain ordered. With a mighty shove, twelve men pushed the barge clear of the pier. Barge and crew were floating in the pool. Pole men took their positions and began poling for the mouth of the pool, and the confluence of the Ashaba. Navigating the lake was a slow process, and when the barge reached the current of the Ashaba River, it was pulled down the stream until the pole men could compensate. Xarno and company rolled with the deck of the barge as waves caused the hull of the barge to undulate mildly. Bharavan walked up to Xarno. “Keep your people together on the river side of the barge. If something happens, I want firepower directed at the core of the problem,” the guard captain said. “Are you expecting a problem?” Xarno asked. “Nothing unusual, but being attacked is common for caravans and barge traffic,” Bharavan replied. “We will be traveling along both shores of the elven wood, so we cannot land if we have a problem. Our next stop is Ashabanford,” Bharavan said matter of factly. Xarno gathered his people, and explained what the guard captain wanted. The dwarf, Dinnel, Kjellinger, and Lindisfjarn limbered their bows. Erewan just carried Quillan, as she walked about the deck enjoying the scenery. An hour after getting underway, the barge was making good time considering the method of propulsion. The pole men were relieved about a hand of time after they started in relation to the travel of the sun from the horizon. Dinnel heard a familiar gruff voice speaking with Erewan. Dinnel looked in the direction, and the owner of the voice was forcefully trying to relieve Quillan from Erewan’s hands. The warrior priest strode to where the man was bothering the princess. Lindisfjarn and Kjellinger were right behind Dinnel. “Is there something I can help you with sir?” Dinnel said, as he pushed his way between Erewan and the man. “I just wanted to see her baby,” the pole man said. “I am under the impression she does not want anyone to see the baby,” Dinnel said. “Yeah well who are you? You half-elven half breed!” The gruff man said with his hands balled up into fists. “Hey I did not ask for that comment,” Dinnel said. “Yeah! Well maybe you might have asked for this if you had minded your own business!” The pole man said loudly, and looked over his shoulder toward the forward part of the barge. Then he took a large right swing at the warrior priest. Dinnel easily parried the blow, converted the swing into a hammer lock, and pinned the man’s elbow behind his back. “She is my business. You are a poor excuse for a human,” the warrior priest said as he pushed the pole man into a stack of boxes. “Now if you have something to discuss with me, say your piece,” Dinnel said as he took a combative stance. Kjellinger yelled, “behind you!” Hands and arms grabbed at Dinnel from behind as they pulled him off balance. Bharavan was running back aft as Kjellinger unleashed with a spell. Humans dropped immediately into a peaceful snoring sleep. “All right! What is going on here? What have you done with my men?” The guard captain asked with a red face. “They, sir, are sleeping peacefully, and will remain so unless you wake them up,” Kjellinger said. Dinnel stood from amid the mass of sleeping bodies, “thanks Kjell.” “You okay?” The bard asked. “Just my pride. I should have been looking,” the warrior priest said. “Excellent use of restraint, lad,” Xarno said, patting Kjellinger on the shoulder. “You stay away from my men!” Bharavan said. “Keep your men away from Erewan, and we will not have this problem. My people are charged with her safety, and that is our first concern. Do not let your men interfere with us, and you will have a successful journey. If your men upset my party, and I cut them loose, you will lose your cargo,” Xarno said emphatically. “I should pull up and let you all off now,” the guard captain said. “You do what you feel you need to do, Bharavan,” Xarno said with anger in his voice. The Ashaba narrowed at this point, and the men were back to their duties of poling the barge up a river. Xarno and his party lay about in the after section of the barge. “Thank-you Dinnel, and you too, Kjellinger, that man was awful,” Erewan said. “Attack!” A voice yelled from the eastern shore. Arrows shot skyward from the trees. Xarno and his party scrambled for cover as boxes of cargo sprouted arrows. “Work your targets from right to left. Boldar, aim for the close ones. Loose!” Dinnel said. Four arrows flew to a bandit in a tree. The man lay pinned in the upper limbs. Another unfortunate bandit ran to a new position outside of cover, and received an arrow in the leg. When he fell, and tried to stand, more arrows sprouted from his buttocks, shoulder, and midsection. The brigand had the opportunity to gasp in pain before collapsing. The warriors progressively eliminated threat after threat until the bandits were either dead, or fleeing into the elven forest. Bandit corpses littered the eastern shore, and the barge was very quiet. Pole men looked at the warriors differently. “The Regent will hear of this!” Lindisfjarn said. “The patrols in this area need to be increased.” Garntay took Dinnel by the shoulder, “we have wounded to see to my son.” Dinnel nodded, and released his bow from his grasp. Men on the starboard side of the barge lay in their own blood: two were dying, and three were dead. “We need bandages and twine!” The High Priest said as he reached the scene of carnage. Kjellinger helped Dinnel. Each man with an arrow in a limb could be saved. The bard took out his very sharp knife and cut off most of each arrow below the fletching. Each man had the largest part of each arrow placed in his mouth. “Bite down!” The skald said, and then he pushed the remainder of the missile through in the original direction of travel. Screams poured over the decks as Kjellinger finished his grizzly work. Dinnel dressed each wound, and Garntay cast healing spells to close the wounds and heal the injured. In a short time those that could be saved were in better condition. Those that could not be saved were made comfortable, and given black lotus to remove their pain until they passed on. Garntay and Dinnel both performed last rites on these men. Bharavan came up to Xarno. “Maybe I was a little harsh. You have a good crew, and accurate too. I have not seen such accuracy with a bow in ages, but four in the same group. I pity those who meet you in the field. You are welcome on my barge anytime friend,” The guard captain said as he extended a hand to Xarno. Xarno accepted the extended hand and smiled politely at the big warrior. Relief pole men took positions of the injured, and the barge was again making good headway. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, and the river had widened out again. The river was less turbulent. “We are in deep water,” Dinnel said as he sat on a crate. Several men had come by to offer their thanks for his help, and the better condition of their comrades. Garntay prepared a hot meal for the party, and a few of the men who had taken a liking to the new crew members. The princess sat nearby with a canvas cloth over her chest as she nursed Quillan. Several men stared, but none dared say a thing. Bharavan had read them the riot act about how their friends had helped them. The female elf was not to be disturbed, or Bharavan would personally throw the offending crew member over the side. Most of those not poling the barge went to sleep where they could. Xarno had his friends secure part of the deck that was dry, and secure from much of the foot traffic. When the sun had dropped below the horizon, the party fell asleep to the motion of the barge through the water, and the sound of the water lapping at the gunwales. Dinnel went into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of slimy frog like creatures walking among the crew and cargo. He awoke with a start. “You okay Dinnel?” Kjellinger asked. “Yeah. I just had a bad dream,” Dinnel said. The bard looked about him, the moon was still below the horizon, and the stars were bright. He looked over his comrades who were still sleeping. In the distance on the port side of the barge, forward of where they lay, the skald believed he heard a noise. The noise was like a splash and a wet thud. The barge felt as though it were moving differently. Kjellinger looked up to the stars, and they were spinning slowly. Spinning with the current, the barge was out of control. Something was going on. He reached his pack and removed three of his five throwing axes, and a bandoleer of daggers that he slung over his right shoulder and under his left arm. “Hey! Wake up! There is a problem!” The bard said. Members of the party rose slowly, and wiped the sleep from their eyes. Boldar grumbled about the inconveniences of shipboard travel as he hefted his axe, which he commonly called ‘Klist Korrats,’ dwarven, for “the ice axe of death.” Lindisfjarn, and Dinnel backed up the bard and the dwarf with bows. Garntay cast a spell of blessing upon the party. Several barge poles lay like so many trees knocked down by a wind storm. The whole port side lay vacant. Pole men approached from the bow and picked up the loose barge poles and began getting the barge under control. Bharavan was up forward scratching his head about the incident. No one had an inkling about the disappearance of the twelve pole men. Everyone discussing the incidents were as befuddled as everyone else. The River Ashaba was known as a mysterious river. Odd things happened along its shores, especially in the deep water. Hamlets and thorpes had entire populations removed in deep water areas. Many rumors flew about the river, the deep water, and the night. Xarno had an idea from listening to other Mages who had researched the river, but he kept it to himself. When asked, he just shook his head, and rolled his shoulders. By the next morning the barge had passed the deep water area, and was making its normal headway of about three leagues a day up the river. The mage was working on a method to illuminate the walkway for the pole men. Dinnel and Garntay had taken scroll cases no longer needed, and cast continual light spells on the interior. They would try them that evening for personal illumination. Bharavan had developed a watch system for his men to watch out for the pole men as they worked the river with their poles. The pole men were nervous. People get that way when answers were not available, and it was getting worse as the day progressed. The night held its secrets and had a tendency not to give them up. Several of Bharavan’s men tried to jump ship later in the day when they found out the barge was not going to stop during the night. They were stopped and chained to binding poles for breach of contract. Night fell, and no one slept. It was a long night with no action. Kjellinger sang songs and played his flute to lift the spirits of the men. He played every song they requested, sometimes playing a song twice. Morning came as did sleep for a good majority of the crew. The suspense and trepidation went the way of the pole men’s fear with a lack of activity the previous night. Night merged into day as the barge made its way by pole men up the river. Xarno kept to himself as the trip progressed. He kept a written journal by conspiring with Kjellinger who kept a diary, his black book. “Amelior promised a large reward for ten years of tales, if I were to present him with this,” the bard pointed to a stack of books tied with jute. “The wealth of a land is in those documents,” Xarno said. “I have written histories of twenty kingdoms, most of it Scardale, but the collection is growing,” the skald volunteered. Xarno just nodded and went back to his journal. They were now four days away from Ashabanford. The guard captain had more men waiting there, and additional supplies, so the time in town would be two to three days. Erewan was happy, and looking forward to getting her feet on dry ground. Life aboard the barge had impeded her privacy, and Quillan was becoming more grumpy by the day. The barge was being poled into deeper water, which gave itself away by the slack surface action of the water. Xarno pulled his people aside. “Smiles everyone. Make it look like we are telling jokes, and passing the day,” the mage said. “What is going on?” Lindisfjarn asked. The bard broke out into raucous laughter. “We are in deep water, and we might experience what happened before,” Xarno answered. Dinnel patted the Boldar on the head and smiled. “Do you think you know what it is?” Garntay asked. “I am not sure, but I have an idea. If it comes on the barge tonight, and we engage, do not let it fall back in the water. That is its home element, and any damage you inflict may just be nullified. When we go to sleep, we have a watch among ourselves, and we have our equipment at the ready. Kjell, you have expended some magic. You rest first, and then study up on your spells. Go offensive and defensive on your inventory. Dinnel and Garntay, your defensive spells and healing spells must be at their best. Erewan, you stay under cover, and do not move from there. Lindisfjarn, she is your responsibility. Elf friend, cover Kjell, you know how he likes to get when we enter a scrap.” The dwarf nodded his head and winked at the bard.” The party separated amid laughter and shaking of heads. The skald returned to his gear, and brought out his other bandoleer of throwing daggers. He removed his throwing axes from his pack and fitted them around the girdle he wore to support his baldric for his long and short swords. The bard wore no armor. His plumed hat was propped over his head to keep the morning light from getting into his eyes. He slept. Dinnel and Garntay rested as well, the two armored priests spoke softly in their prayers to Corrallon Larethien, before closing their eyes. Lindisfjarn and Boldar held a light watch over their sleeping comrades. Xarno spoke with Bharavan about the journey. Several off duty pole men came to visit the party, but Boldar persuaded them to leave his comrades alone by pouring them the remaining ale he had from his third pony keg. The visitors left without a worry, and were quite intoxicated as they staggered to their positions for poling duty. Toward evening, Kjellinger was awakened. “How long did I sleep?” The skald asked. “A full unit,” Boldar responded. “Garntay is preparing food. The old one said for you to study, and then eat.” “Kjellinger nodded, and immediately undid the tied jute string holding his stack of books together. The bard studied for about an hour, and then went through the spells he had in memory. When he had completed the mental litany, the skald asked Garntay for some food, which Erewan gladly dished up with a smile. Xarno came aft and nodded at the bard. “Are you ready?” The elder mage asked the skald. Between mouthfuls, Kjellinger nodded. Xarno patted him on the shoulder, and received some food from Erewan. The elven ranger passed his skin of wine around, but few accepted the bag. The skald took a long pull from the skin, and returned it to his friend. Little was said, more out of nerves from dealing with an unknown enemy. All the warriors and priests were in armor, their weapons gleaming in the evening sun. Boldar spoke to his axe while he ate. He was repeating his family line of the Torkrest dwarves from the beginning. He also said prayers to Klanggeddon Silverbeard for strength in battle, followed by long pulls from a silver mug of dwarven ale. All the shields had separate crests with a common symbol in the upper right. The family crest of Aumersaire and Scardale. Dinnel had finished painting them all the previous day. Lindisfjarn watched his comrades. He was nervous, but amazed with the way his friends approached death. They were light and merry with each other. The elven ranger had heard that Thenedain had trained the best troops in the Realms, and that his friends were the mirror images of Thenedain’s training. “All right people listen up. Nothing passes the port or starboard quarter of this barge. Extreme prejudice at this point,” the mage said as he pointed to the rear corners of the barge. “No holds barred at that point. Lindisfjarn, I want you hitting targets of opportunity when combat is joined. You should not have to use your sword unless the quarters are compromised. We give no quarter, and should expect none. When you hear me, yell fire loudly, I will use fire magics to their maximum. So listen up and be ready. Let the crew put out fires at that point. Kjellinger, don’t commit to combat early, expend what little magic you have, and then commit. Boldar, you remind him, verbally at first. Missile weapons should be your first choice in combat. Do not let yourself be flanked. Do not allow our T to be crossed. Peel off the outside. Keep the offenders on the barge. The water is their element. Do not let them reenter the water. Any questions?” Xarno said. “What are we fighting?” Boldar asked. “I am not sure, but I think they are scrags and merrow,” the mage replied. “What?” The dwarf asked. “Water trolls and water ogres,” Xarno said. “I hate trolls,” the dwarf said. “We should have no moon, so we must rely upon our night vision,” Dinnel said. “Stay close and be ready. Erewan, you go with Lindisfjarn and hand him arrows. Lindisfjarn, take the high ground. You will most likely have the best view of the entire group, so call out targets as you see them. Take only clear shots,” the elder mage said. The party sat and watched the sun dip below the horizon. Clouds partially obscured the sky, as stars occasionally peaked out through the cloud cover’s skirts. A lantern was lit up forward to identify snags and floating logs. The team completed the checks on their equipment. Spare quivers were tossed up to Lindisfjarn by Dinnel and Kjellinger. Lindisfjarn had four score of arrows. It started when a pole man screamed as he was yanked into the river by a scaled claw. The creatures, five of them, boarded the barge with ease, and began working their way aft on the starboard side. Lindisfjarn spotted the first creature, then loosed two arrows into the creature’s chest. It flailed its arms wildly, and collapsed back into the river. Kjellinger took the point with Boldar at his side. Both Kjellinger and Boldar seemed tiny in comparison to the river troll. Dinnel and Garntay rounded the starboard quarter. Garntay cast a spell of blessing, while Dinnel loosed two arrows into the creature. Lindisfjarn buried two more arrows into the troll’s right shoulder. The beast screamed an unearthly bellow. “Step back elf friend!” Kjellinger said. He immediately cast mirror image on himself and was duplicated. The images moved in unison. The troll attacked Kjellinger causing an image to disappear. Kjellinger countered with another defensive spell. A yellow shield shape field of energy interposed itself between the troll and Kjellinger. The bard cast another spell, and a ball of energy blasted the creature off its feet. More arrows from Dinnel and Lindisfjarn sprouted from the troll. Xarno released a ball of energy that ripped open the chest of the troll that now lay motionless upon the barge’s deck. Two smaller creatures made their way toward the commotion. Garntay cast a spell, and a pillar of fire cascaded down upon one of the smaller creatures, and severely singed another. The warrior priest and Lindisfjarn peppered the smaller creatures with arrows, and the beats staggered back under the onslaught. The bard released another ball of energy at the singed beast, and then followed it up with a throwing axe that buried itself into a thigh of the creature. Boldar launched arrows into the other beast that was recovering from the attack of Garntay. Undaunted, the beast charged at Kjellinger. Kjellinger held his thumbs together and extended his fingers at the beast, a jet of flame ejected from the bard’s fingers as the flames blasted the beast about the head and shoulders. More arrows impacted their targets, and another beast crumpled on the deck. Kjellinger released three throwing daggers at the remaining creature. The beast attacked the skald, causing another image to disappear. The dwarf had discarded his bow, and was using his frost brand battle axe while he screamed, “I am clan Torkrest, and I smite you in the name of Klanggeddon. Boldar, buried his axe into the creature’s shoulder, severing the arm as it fell uselessly upon the wooden deck. The beast flailed with the other arm, and connected with another image of Kjellinger’s who had freed his long sword, and was now keeping the creature at bay. Erewan screamed, and Lindisfjarn redirected his fire to the port side. Two river trolls had boarded, and were feasting on the remains of a pole man. Xarno released a shimmering lightning bolt at the beasts as Dinnel moved to gain a better field of fire. And Lindisfjarn launched arrows into the lead creature, as the two fought over the scrap of entrails from the hapless man. Meanwhile, Kjellinger advanced on the creature, and Boldar split to the right. Between axe and long sword the creature fell shortly into a crumpled mass of blood and scales. Looking about them, the two adventurers scaled the stacked cargo, and got a high sign from Lindisfjarn to join in the battle. The bard scrambled over the top of the boxes and landed nimbly on his feet behind the two giant river trolls. The bard side stepped to the left and caught sight of Xarno, who waved at the skald. Kjellinger cast an illusion of a giant wall of fire along the perimeter of the barge. The trolls stepped away from the illusory flames immediately. Boldar and Lindisfjarn were atop the cargo, and loosed arrow after arrow into the trolls. The warrior priest stepped in front of Xarno, and pressed home his missile attack. Garntay released another pillar of fire onto the trolls, blasting the outside creature. The barge shook as it bellowed in pain. The bard cast another magic missile spell, and blasted a crater into the chest of the creature that did not receive Garntay’s affections. Their morale broken, the creatures looked for an avenue of escape. They chose the bard’s side of the party’s offensive. Kjellinger refused to let them flee the scene of combat, instead he slowly gave ground, and launched throwing daggers with his free hand. The three archers were filling the backs of the creatures with arrows until both collapsed. “Do not throw them over the side! Bharavan, you need to pull over to the shore so we can burn these corpses,” Xarno said. “Why not just discard them into the river?” The guard captain asked. “They will only regenerate, and become a threat to us again,” the mage countered. “Can we wait until we reach farmland?” The Guard Captain asked. The party looked at Xarno while he pondered the question, “If you think that is the best place to inter these corpses, than so be it. Get your men to cover these corpses up, and get us underway again,” Xarno said. Men gathered poles, while others grabbed canvas, and covered the bodies of the dead creatures. Normalcy returned to the barge. Dinnel and Lindisfjarn slapped Kjellinger on the back. “You should have seen your face when they turned in your direction. Hey that wall of fire was a good idea. We had ‘em pinned did we not?” Dinnel said. “Our comrade’s exuberance exceeds his level of experience,” Lindisfjarn said. “I need a drink!” The bard said. “I think I could foot that bill!” Bharavan said as he removed canvas from part of the cargo. The cases were marked, ‘Fire Wine.’ “Take what you like. Your party has deserved it, again,” the guard captain said. The bard used a throwing axe to open a container. He removed three bottles. Boldar handed the skald his throwing axes back. Kjellinger traded the dwarf, a bottle for the three axes. Bharavan grabbed three bottles and walked aft with Kjellinger, Dinnel, Lindisfjarn, and Boldar. He handed a bottle to Xarno and Garntay. Kjellinger handed Dinnel a bottle, and opened the remaining bottle then took a long pull of the fire wine. It burned going down his throat. He handed the bottle to Lindisfjarn, who took a long pull as well, and coughed after he came up for air. “That is some hot wine. Where is this stuff made?” The elven ranger asked. “Way to the east, by the witches of Mulhorand,” Xarno said as he sipped his bottle, and passed it off to Erewan. Bharavan passed another bottle to the bard, and Boldar who threw an empty bottle over the side and belched. The barge continued up the river as the dawn came exposing the thinning of forest, and the beginning of farmland. The Guard Captain had the pole men direct the barge to the east shore, and a case of fire wine was used as starting fuel after some dead and dying trees were cut down, and used as firewood. A pyre was constructed, the canvas wrapped corpses were lying upon the massive pile of wood, and fire wine was liberally poured upon the wood and canvas. Flint and steel were used to catch a spark to the fire wine, and the passengers watched the pyre ignite, and saw a pillar of smoke and fire rise skyward. When the corpses were consumed by flames, and the fire died down, and expire did the passengers return to the barge to continue up the River Ashaba. The rest of the trip was without incident as the barge pulled into the piers of Ashabanford. “I will wait three days for your crew to appear on my barge, Xarno. Then I depart,” Bharavan said. Xarno raised a hand and waved with a smile. Bharavan had paid them double wages for their trip up the river. “Split it between your crew. We are in no need of funds for this trip. Three days it is,” the mage said. Bharavan’s crew was with coin, and happy that their comrades who had protected them were just as benevolent as they were useful. The largest structure was an inn to the east of the river. A haul out for portaging the ford ahead of them was to the west. Several outbuildings supporting the haul out had men congregated about them with sturdy poles for sledges to move water traffic through the portage, and back into the water. Xarno and the adventurers took their leave at this time in Ashabanford. A small, sleepy town that catered mostly to farmers and merchants. The party saw Bharavan haggling for a price to portage the ford. So ends the second installment of the Lost Vale. ©2003 - Words Words Words - All Rights Reserved. |