The Road to Luskan
The days pass by. The tutelage of Amorius proves to be fruitful and I find myself performing small miracles on a daily basis. Mitharx’s ale induced antics continue much to my delight and Ulnd proves himself to be a rock. Calm, steady and while not speaking often, when he does I have found his words to be wise and I do my best to pay heed to them. It was the third day from Ten Towns when the two dwarves proved their true worth to the caravan.
The heart of the Spine of the World, even in the middle of summer snow could be seen upon the great peaks. While the days are pleasant, the rains come at night, sometimes changing over to a wet snow that melts off the next morning. It was just such a morning this day. I awaken underneath our wagon to a dusting of snow upon the ground and a mist that clings to the mountainside. Stretching, I let out a large yawn and look around at the others in the caravan also coming to life. The sun’s first rays could be seen striking the peaks to the west in an eruption of color. Yellow’s, red’s, purple’s, and oranges intermingle to create a site worthy of a painting in some distant king’s court. I inhale deeply and take it all in.
From the other side of camp a cry of alarm startles me from my revelry. I turn to see what has caused the disturbance when, from the forest to my left, a flight of black shafted arrows flies into our midst followed by a ragged line of misbegotten beings charging towards us. A cry filled with pure rage and hatred rings out to my right and charging into my vision comes Mitharx, in full battle gear and with axe in hand, ‘ORCS!!! FOR THE HONOUR OF CLAN GOLDHAMMER!!!’ With that battle cry still ringing upon the hills Mitharx runs full speed into the leading edge of the orc charge. A mighty swing of the axe and an orc head goes sailing back into the tree line. It was as though the ocean had struck a cliff. The orc charge slowed to a standstill as they tried to deal with the face of death in their midst.
Knowing I must help however I can, I concentrate on what Amorius has taught me. I begin the incantation in a soft voice quickly rising in tempo and deepening in tone. Pieces of rock and earth suddenly rise up from the ground and fly towards the nearest orc. Crying out in pain, the orc turns his attention from Mitharx and charges me. I freeze not knowing what to do. A mace springs into my field of vision striking the orc on the side of the head and dropping him to the ground.
‘Have care lad, this be no game.’ With a caring glance my way Ulnd looks back towards the battle and starts chanting. Leaping from Ulnd to his brother is some kind of energy, and all of the cuts and bruises that are beginning appear on Mitharx disappear and he looks as fresh as he was when first entering the fray. Another quick incantation and a glow appears about Mitharx. Ulnd’s face then shows something I have yet to see upon it, anger. In a voice that is deep and soft he begins to weave his spell. The heavens seem to open up and a beam of blinding white light lances forth striking into the orcs who scream out in pain and agony.
The organized resistance of the caravan begins to show life and guards start to run towards Mitharx to assist him. The cry of many voices from behind me sounds out and I turn to see what new menace comes at us. Another wave of orcs from our rear! Before I have any time to call out warning or react in any way, a sphere of intense cold appears around the orcs obscuring them from view. As quickly as it appeared it leaves, and only the frozen carcasses of the orcs remain. I look up at our wagon and see Amorius sitting there, a bored look upon his face.
The remaining orcs are soon dispatched and we gather to care for our wounded. Ulnd walks from man to man, speaking soft enough so as not to be heard by anyone else. With his hands glowing in a soft blue light the men he touches miraculously heal. Amazingly, we lost no one, not a single life. The orcs losses where many, it would be a long while before that band would molest any travelers.
Onward we move after lunch, a half-day lost. Five more days till Luskan, I pray the rest of the journey is less eventfull.
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