So. You guys remember when we were camping in that tower, and Inmontani said he shared some stories from his mercenary days? Well after that session, Cerej told me he thought it would be kind of cool if I was actually willing to write something like that. So I did. Here is the result:
A New Hope
Business was slow. Normally the Crimson Brand was hired to enforce borders and territorial disputes, sometimes even campaigning for some Malebranchean lord to claim new land, but due to slow portal activity and generous bribes from one trader looking to secure exclusive rights, most of the nobles were content. That's the problem with mercenary work - It's lucrative, but hardly a secure job you can count on. Luckily for us however, one noble youth, apparently the heir of the Gardum estate, was looking to reclaim an old keep that his family had abandoned several decades earlier. He thought it would some old heirlooms and whatnot, and was paying well enough that our captain took the job.
When we passed through the portal, it became apparent to me just why the keep was abandoned in the first place; whatever wealth the land contained before, it was long gone. We stood in a vast, empty wasteland, with strong winds sending dust flying everywhere. If I was the noble, I would have turned around then and there, but he was determined to continue and well, he had out paychecks. So, we did the best we could with our supplies to improvise some cover for our faces, and set out on the barely-visible path. Journeyed like that for several days, until one of our scouts found a large cave just off the path. Even young Gardum was losing enthusiasm at that point, so we risked a slight detour so we could camp one night without the wind blowing in our faces. Only problem was, we weren't the only ones in that cave.
Even though we searched it throughly, we missed a hidden passage which was later used by a group of bandits to ambush us that night. They were simple smugglers, using the area as a hiding place and passage from one portal to another, keeping hidden in the wasteland. That sort are cowards and generally don't bother with armed men, let alone mercenaries, but when a group falls asleep right in your lap, what do you do? Well, they outnumbered us pretty good and has little trouble disposing of our sentries, though they did a nice loud job of it. Woke the rest of us up, but we couldn't get armed and armored fast enough to fight them off. They subdued the rest of the group pretty quick, blindfolding us and shepherding us off through some tunnel.
When the blindfolds came off, we were locked in a prison cell. We stayed there for three days until one night, one of the bandits came to us. He made us an offer; He would let us out and help us arm ourselves to overthrow the bandits, if we captured their leader alive and turned him over to him. It was a strange offer coming from one of the bandits... leadership disputes happened all the time, but why did he want him alive? Well, he left us with a day to consider while he made the preparations. A couple of us didn't really like the man, and one remarked that he trusted him about as far as he could throw him, doubting if he could even lift him. I was inclined to agree that he couldn't lift him, since he was just one of the scouts. But all together, he decided that it was our best chance, and when the next night came the bandit came back, and good to his word, sprang us from our cells.
We aimed to storm the keep that night and take it from out captors. It was obvious the bandits didn't expect us to escape, for even without out standard gear, we had no trouble subduing them. It wasn't until we reached the top floor that we found trouble...
The bandits were expecting us. They had two rows of archers aiming at the door, and the leader was waiting patiently for us. They directed us to line up against the wall of the room, and then the leader spoke.
“I knew you would come here. Thought to get control of this keep, eh? Well, that's not going to happen until I have what I want.”
“And what do you want?” our Captain replied?
“Well... for starters, I want to know which one of you is that noble.”
“A ransom?”
“I would not concern myself with such trivialities. No, I don't want a ransom.”
“Then what?”
“It does not concern you. I just need to know.”
Suddenly the noble himself stepped forward. “It's me. I'm the noble. What do you bandits want with my family's tower?”
“I want a secret that was sealed by your family over a century ago, and you're going to help me find it. “But I don't know anything!”
“What you know is irrelevant. It's who you are. A direct descendant of the mage who sealed the lower levels of this tower with his blood. Old secrets are there... secrets that- No. I've said too much...”
Suddenly the bandit leader took the noble and several of his guards and left the top of the tower. On his way down the stairs, a two words escaped his lips:
“Kill Them.”
The bandits released their bows. Around half of our party also caught his order and ducked; the other half were not so lucky. Things were grim; we were outnumbered and they had the battlefield advantage. Then the spellsword in our group unleashed a wave of sound that stunned the archers while we charged them. Within seconds the tide of battle had been reversed, and we went from defeat to victory faster than you can say “Military Strategy”. It was that day that I learned not to underestimate a mage, no matter how physically weak they may be, and to always value one on your side.
With the archers down, we rushed after the bandit leader and the youth. They had headed deep into the bowels of the castle, and we had to light torches to be able to see. After about five minutes, we came to a large, circular room. In the center there was an altar, with the youth's broken body lying atop it. Behind the altar, the bandit leader sat on a raised platform with an odd sigil drawn on the rock in what appeared to be blood. He was chanting some words under his breath, and our fighters rushed at him...
...But it was too late. Right as we reached him, he shouted the final word of the chant and was bathed in an aura of flame. He rose into the air, and his skin turned dark red as horns sprouted from his head. His hands turned into claws, and his feet into talons, before dark, leathery wings sprouted from his back. The man used the magic of the castle and the lifeblood of the young noble to turn himself into a demon. He had no mercy for us, and immediately started sweeping aside out best soldiers like confetti. I was lying on the floor, bleeding heavily, when I heard a voice...
“Stop”
Before my eyes stood a half-dragon warrior bathed in golden light. He directly opposed this new fiend, and fought it with great valor. Fire of both the holy and the wicked sort flew, and the new entities were locked in fierce combat. But then the newcomer stopped. He crossed his arms and loudly proclaimed: “By the might of Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon and Protector of the Weak, I banish you, demon!” The fiend rushed at this strange man, but he ducked under his attack and raised his sword. He uttered two words; “Holy Smite” then brought down his blade. The demon unleashed an unearthly wail before he turned to dust.
Later our company, broken and weary, left the castle. We knew we would not be getting any payment, but that didn't really matter to me. I found a new purpose in life. I found Bahamut.
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Topic: (D&D 4E: Maptool) Schedule Killed (Read 36347 times)