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"Damn, I just know this stupid human is going to get me killed", thought Salagar for the thousandth time as they trudged up the hill through a thunder storm with wind gusts that almost bolwed the halfling over.
The group was not special, probably an ordinary bunch. There was Grundal, the barbarian leader who had financed this group from his own pocket and promised all that they would find riches in a special cave somewhere in the mountains of the Spine of the World. There was Spike, or that is what everyone called him, nobody knew his real name. Spike was a fighter type, with huge shoulders and a huge notched axe. Then there was father Thomas, a cleric of Helm, although Salagar thought that Thomas had seen better days and wondered if Thomas had any juice left with Helm. And then there was Salagar the Grim, dungeon consultant and all around handy man.
"Wait!" Salagar hissed from between chattering teeth as Grundal turned a blind corner of the narrow walkway. "Do you want to get all of us killed?" I have seen Orcs shadowing us for about an hour now and they could be laying in wait for us around this bend, let me take a look first." With that, Salagar snuck off into the night, using his experience and the darkness to conceal himself as best he could. Salagar only got about 10 feet when he detected movement to his left. "Ahh, what do we have here?" Salagar crept to within five feet of the unmoving object and then detected the horrible odor of an Orc. "These damn Orcs should bathe at least once a year", Salagar thought as he made a wide circle to see if he could make out the ambush.
"I am telling you, there are at least 20 Orcs waiting around this corner to take your head!" Salagar almost screamed at Grundal. "If you go wading into the ambush, we are likely to all be killed!" Grundal only looked at Salagar, grunted, then scratched under his left arm, then took up his greatsword and slowly advanced around the corner, something he did everytime Salagar gave him warning of impeding doom. "Well, we have survived this long, maybe it will not be so bad?" Salagar thought as he melted into the shadows and skirted the ambush, looking for a good place to thrust his daggers.
The ambush the Orcs had laid was not done very well, but they had numbers on their side and a Shaman, something that Salagar had not detected. Therefore, Salagar decided to try and take out the Shaman before he could wreak havoc on the party before they even engaged the main attack. Sneaking around the edges of the path, Salagar moved steadily towards the Shaman, hoping that he was fixed on the approaching Barbarian and not on little ole Salagar. "Ahh, five more steps and I have him," thought Salagar; however, as he took his third step, a chant began to boil forth from the Shamans mouth and a green eerie light began to play along his fingers. "Damn, not much to do now, but to take him before his spell is released." With that thought, Salagar leaped at the Shaman, both daggers aiming for his vulnerable back. At the last second, the Shaman felt Salagar's presence and tried to turn, but a bit late. One dagger punctured the Shaman's tattered hide armor and went through his side, coming out the other side. The other dagger, thrust upward, went up into the shamans armpit and into his chest, causing instant death. Before the Shaman toppled forward, Salagar was looking for more targets......
Cleaning his daggers, Salagar asks Grundal, "why do you pay for my services when you do not heed my advice?" Grundal looked at Salagar and laughed softly, "little man, I value your abilities and you always provide us with forewarning, it is this forewarning that turns the battle." And with that, Grundal turns to his sword and begins to sharpen it.
"Grundal, I am telling you that this great bronze door is trapped and I do not have the skill to trip it." explained Salagar for the third time. "I think it is a fireball trap, but it could be something else entirely, I have not encountered it's like and it may be nothing or something very, very deadly." Grundal looks at the halfling, then at his companions. Spike is wearing a large bandage around his head and can barely stand. Thomas is limping badly and is losing blood. Salagar has a cut along his left brow, a broken arrow point lodged in his left shoulder, and a sprained righ ankle. Grundal himself is bleeding from a number of wounds and looks a tad woozy. "I have not come this far into the cavern, killed this many Orcs and Goblins, and bled this much to turn back now," Grundal growls as he picks himself up and looks at the doors. "Grundal, I don't think you appreciate the situation, those doors will likely kill us if we try to pass, let us go back and seek more professional help, I don't think the Orcs will recover quickly enough to bar us when we come back." Grundal looks at Salagar, then at Thomas, and then Spike, a look of determination on his face. "I am going through those doors now, I will not be stopped by a door!" Grundal shouts. "Damn, we are dead," thinks Salagar as he starts to edge away from the door, urging the other members of the party to do likewise.
It was Salagar's speed that saved him and the priest. As Grundal moved forward, Salagar took three steps back and then ran at Thomas, telling Spike to run. As Salagar hit the priest, a huge explosion rang out and Grundal was incinerated where he stood. Spike, a few feet behind Grundal, was blown back into the wall, which shattered his back, killing him instantly. Salagar and Thomas were also blown back against the far wall, but they were far enough away to only take a fraction of the blast and only sustained some minor wounds and some scorched hair.
"Damn, damn, damn, now it is me and Thomas and Thomas is almost about to pass out......Thomas, Thomas, call on Helm to heal you, come on do something," Salagar hisses through his teeth as he sets the tourniquet on Thomas's bleeding leg. "If you don't do something to save yourself in the next couple minutes, you will bleed to death." Salagar states matter of factly. Thomas, a dazed look on his face, starts to cry and mumbles something under his breath that Salagar cannot catch. Thomas then shudders and dies as Salagar tightens the tourniquet.
It was a filthy, cold, and thoroughly disheartened halfling that left that cave complext the next day. He had 10 gold pieces to show for all his efforts and an aching back from making a stone byre for his friends. As Salagar leaves the cave, he straightens his back, throws his shoulders back and takes a deep breath. "Well, this was quite exciting." Salagar thinks to himself, as he threads his way down the narrow path. "I think I will look for this place, Sundren, to see what it offers." He had a crude map given to him by a traveling peddlar they had met two weeks before. He thought that he could make it, that is if the Orcs, Goblins, Spiders, Snakes, and all other creatures would let him be, at least for a bit!
The group was not special, probably an ordinary bunch. There was Grundal, the barbarian leader who had financed this group from his own pocket and promised all that they would find riches in a special cave somewhere in the mountains of the Spine of the World. There was Spike, or that is what everyone called him, nobody knew his real name. Spike was a fighter type, with huge shoulders and a huge notched axe. Then there was father Thomas, a cleric of Helm, although Salagar thought that Thomas had seen better days and wondered if Thomas had any juice left with Helm. And then there was Salagar the Grim, dungeon consultant and all around handy man.
"Wait!" Salagar hissed from between chattering teeth as Grundal turned a blind corner of the narrow walkway. "Do you want to get all of us killed?" I have seen Orcs shadowing us for about an hour now and they could be laying in wait for us around this bend, let me take a look first." With that, Salagar snuck off into the night, using his experience and the darkness to conceal himself as best he could. Salagar only got about 10 feet when he detected movement to his left. "Ahh, what do we have here?" Salagar crept to within five feet of the unmoving object and then detected the horrible odor of an Orc. "These damn Orcs should bathe at least once a year", Salagar thought as he made a wide circle to see if he could make out the ambush.
"I am telling you, there are at least 20 Orcs waiting around this corner to take your head!" Salagar almost screamed at Grundal. "If you go wading into the ambush, we are likely to all be killed!" Grundal only looked at Salagar, grunted, then scratched under his left arm, then took up his greatsword and slowly advanced around the corner, something he did everytime Salagar gave him warning of impeding doom. "Well, we have survived this long, maybe it will not be so bad?" Salagar thought as he melted into the shadows and skirted the ambush, looking for a good place to thrust his daggers.
The ambush the Orcs had laid was not done very well, but they had numbers on their side and a Shaman, something that Salagar had not detected. Therefore, Salagar decided to try and take out the Shaman before he could wreak havoc on the party before they even engaged the main attack. Sneaking around the edges of the path, Salagar moved steadily towards the Shaman, hoping that he was fixed on the approaching Barbarian and not on little ole Salagar. "Ahh, five more steps and I have him," thought Salagar; however, as he took his third step, a chant began to boil forth from the Shamans mouth and a green eerie light began to play along his fingers. "Damn, not much to do now, but to take him before his spell is released." With that thought, Salagar leaped at the Shaman, both daggers aiming for his vulnerable back. At the last second, the Shaman felt Salagar's presence and tried to turn, but a bit late. One dagger punctured the Shaman's tattered hide armor and went through his side, coming out the other side. The other dagger, thrust upward, went up into the shamans armpit and into his chest, causing instant death. Before the Shaman toppled forward, Salagar was looking for more targets......
Cleaning his daggers, Salagar asks Grundal, "why do you pay for my services when you do not heed my advice?" Grundal looked at Salagar and laughed softly, "little man, I value your abilities and you always provide us with forewarning, it is this forewarning that turns the battle." And with that, Grundal turns to his sword and begins to sharpen it.
"Grundal, I am telling you that this great bronze door is trapped and I do not have the skill to trip it." explained Salagar for the third time. "I think it is a fireball trap, but it could be something else entirely, I have not encountered it's like and it may be nothing or something very, very deadly." Grundal looks at the halfling, then at his companions. Spike is wearing a large bandage around his head and can barely stand. Thomas is limping badly and is losing blood. Salagar has a cut along his left brow, a broken arrow point lodged in his left shoulder, and a sprained righ ankle. Grundal himself is bleeding from a number of wounds and looks a tad woozy. "I have not come this far into the cavern, killed this many Orcs and Goblins, and bled this much to turn back now," Grundal growls as he picks himself up and looks at the doors. "Grundal, I don't think you appreciate the situation, those doors will likely kill us if we try to pass, let us go back and seek more professional help, I don't think the Orcs will recover quickly enough to bar us when we come back." Grundal looks at Salagar, then at Thomas, and then Spike, a look of determination on his face. "I am going through those doors now, I will not be stopped by a door!" Grundal shouts. "Damn, we are dead," thinks Salagar as he starts to edge away from the door, urging the other members of the party to do likewise.
It was Salagar's speed that saved him and the priest. As Grundal moved forward, Salagar took three steps back and then ran at Thomas, telling Spike to run. As Salagar hit the priest, a huge explosion rang out and Grundal was incinerated where he stood. Spike, a few feet behind Grundal, was blown back into the wall, which shattered his back, killing him instantly. Salagar and Thomas were also blown back against the far wall, but they were far enough away to only take a fraction of the blast and only sustained some minor wounds and some scorched hair.
"Damn, damn, damn, now it is me and Thomas and Thomas is almost about to pass out......Thomas, Thomas, call on Helm to heal you, come on do something," Salagar hisses through his teeth as he sets the tourniquet on Thomas's bleeding leg. "If you don't do something to save yourself in the next couple minutes, you will bleed to death." Salagar states matter of factly. Thomas, a dazed look on his face, starts to cry and mumbles something under his breath that Salagar cannot catch. Thomas then shudders and dies as Salagar tightens the tourniquet.
It was a filthy, cold, and thoroughly disheartened halfling that left that cave complext the next day. He had 10 gold pieces to show for all his efforts and an aching back from making a stone byre for his friends. As Salagar leaves the cave, he straightens his back, throws his shoulders back and takes a deep breath. "Well, this was quite exciting." Salagar thinks to himself, as he threads his way down the narrow path. "I think I will look for this place, Sundren, to see what it offers." He had a crude map given to him by a traveling peddlar they had met two weeks before. He thought that he could make it, that is if the Orcs, Goblins, Spiders, Snakes, and all other creatures would let him be, at least for a bit!