This is almost entirely unlike waking up in one of Duke Chocolate Puff the Charitable's guest rooms, as we expected. The ground feels like sand heated by the sun, our body feels like we slept for two days hanging by our arms, our mouth feels like cotton, and there are highly itchy granules caked beneath our fur.
We've probably been drugged, abducted, and left on a beach somewhere.
While wandering the Northlands, we learned about a dark elven invasion. Sylphy advised offering our services containing the threat to the nearest duke. He was naturally afraid of us, but accepted, offering us the opportunity to gain our own barony if the dark elves were pushed back far enough, and we helpful enough. We had a few successful battles, sending our minions to flank while the Northlander armies engaged the bulk of the forces.
We had just found the bulk of the enemy forces, holed up in a recently captured keep atop a hill. The keep was in poor repair before the war, and in no state to hold us back after the dark elves broke in. The battle would have been more of the same, had
they not appeared. The court wizards (well, one real wizard with nearly a dozen apprentices at various stages) did what they had to do to save the kingdom. We still cannot fault them.
It's almost as if we can still hear those horrible voices.
The duke's wizards sacrificed themselves for an immensely powerful spell, flattening the area in front of them. A handful of the army survived; no elf walked away that day. Sylphy used a great deal of energy on a personal shield. Our minions were slain. The contract we'd managed to get with a spirit baron was broken with the loss of his minions.
What was there to do, but return to the duke and report alongside the ragged remnants of the army?
Perhaps he didn't want to kill us outright much more than he wished to risk us reforming our ranks near his lands, that being a particularly dangerous time for those in our profession.
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Topic: A kobold summoner, now with a raven familiar. (Read 4141 times)