“Prior to my service, I was taught to use a sword to defend myself; I was not taught how to wield one.” - Toren Eringer
-
It was the start of autumn and the second war had just ended. Toren Eringer found himself in a small village, tracking a group of soldiers that should have returned to their own country.
The village was remote, though a dirt road did pass through. It looked like the people themselves had fallen on tough times, considering their ragged clothing and the buildings that looked on the verge of collapse.
“Please! Help us and we will tell you what we know,” the venerable man pleaded. He was desperate, Toren could tell. He was deliberately leaving out details, at least until the veteran agreed
“I need more information if I am going to be… taking care of the problem you have alluded to,” the young, yet retired soldier replied. Though not a particularly tall man himself, Toren still towered over the other human.
Herald turned around, looking to some of the others that had been gathering since Toren walked into the village a half hour earlier. They appeared dreary and somewhat malnourished. They also looked scared, though not of him. The elderly woman next to Herald nodded, encouraging the man to do as Toren said.
“Very well,” he sighed, “I am trusting that you will help us. Your armor and insignia bear that of the honorable 11th division, so I will hold you to the oath you swore.” Herald paused again, but maintained eye contact, “there are kobolds nearby. We think up the hill toward the foot of the mountain that way,” he pointed to the east.
The damage to some of the buildings made sense now. Toren had seen some of the devastation as he trotted in upon his warhorse. Kobolds were destructive and evil little humanoids. Covered in scales, their ancient ancestors were dragons. He was surprised not to see anyone injured.
“They have raided us several times over the last couple weeks, escalating the violence each time,” Herald said, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I do not know how long we can keep each other safe.” He paused again. “If you can help us, there is an animal trail that goes almost all the way to a cave that they may be using. Even if you aren’t a skilled tracker, it should be easy to follow. We did not want to risk anyone being attacked, so we sent our only scout during the day with a few of us skilled enough with a bow to provide some protection. He found tracks up there, but did not go inside.”
“How many do you think there are?”
“We aren’t sure. If we had to guess, maybe 30.” The other villagers bowed their heads, as if in defeat. They expected Toren to decline.
“30 is a lot, even for a warrior greater than I.” He pondered for a moment, “do you have anything that could be of use? Anyone that wields magic? Anything I could use to set a trap?”
“We have an alchemist!” a young girl piped up. “He can help you!”
Herald calmed her down with a hand on her shoulder, “that is true. I am sure you could make use of something he has. Unfortunately, no one that can use magic in a way that would be helpful, I would think. Minor cantrips is all, really.”
“Well that could come in use, too. I would like to speak with anyone with those abilities. Please point me toward the Alchemist’s shop.”
Toren was led over to the Alchemist with the promise that two individuals would be on the way shortly that could wield magic. As he guided Sam to stand at a water barrel outside, he again questioned if the information they had was worth this risk. It did not seem to be, but he also could not bear to let the disorder these creatures were causing to continue if he could do something.
The older human knocked on the door, opening it shortly after. “Barrett? Are you in here?” he asked. Herald took a few steps inside as they heard someone put something heavy down in the back.
“Yes, what can I do for you?” A half-elf came around the corner, wearing an apron that had seen plenty of use. “Oh, who are you?” Like all half-elves Toren had met, he sported features of both lineages. His ears were pointier than a humans, but he showcased the sparse facial hair a typical teenager may have; something elves could not do.
“This is Toren. He has agreed to help us with our kobold problem, but he needs some supplies we were hoping you could provide.”
“Of course, I would be happy to,” the Alchemist gestured for them both to come in. “What exactly are you looking for?”
Toren moved inside and closed the door behind him before addressing the inquiry. “Well, I was hoping you could show me some things you have and I can make a plan based on that. Off the top of my head - anything that can burn, make smoke, or can be otherwise distracting would be a good start.”
The half-elf looked eager to help, and if Toren had to guess, his talents did not come in to play in this village as often as he would have hoped. “I have all of that, and more! Please follow me and I will show you the wares.”
He led Toren around the shop, explaining the different powders, vials, and small contraptions. The Alchemist looked young, but being half-elf, he could have been a lot older than Toren himself. The man had quite a bit that Toren was interested in, which was offered freely.
Toren gathered up what he had selected. “Should I find valuables in this endeavor, I will repay you the cost of what I use, and return what I do not.”
“Not necessary,” the Alchemist waved his hand, “you are doing enough to help out our quaint village. Let me know if you need any further explanation on any of these.”
The soldier nodded, then exited the shop. Two women were waiting near Sam, a young human and an elf that Toren could not discern the age of; the latter of which spoke first, “My name is Areya and this is Gwen. We heard you may have use for some minor spells.”
Toren reached his right hand out to greet both women, “Toren. Yes, if you do not mind me asking, what can you ladies do?”
Gwen spoke up this time, “Between the two of us, we can create minor illusions and fire, light up an object, fix broken items, and a few spells to cause minor damage.”
Areya jumped in immediately after, “Forgive me, though, but I don’t think we will be of much use. Neither of us have experience in combat.”
The young man held up a hand to calm her, “I do not intend for you to get involved outside of standing well back and creating minor effects. Based on what you said, you may be able to help me appear as many more than the individual that I am. If nothing else, lighting up my sword may be enough.”
Areya seemed to settle down, “I think we could help, then. That is within our repertoire. When would this be happening?”
“Today, before sundown,” he answered.
“Are you crazy? That leaves only a few hours to prepare!” The elf did not seem to approve.
“The way I see it, those kobolds have no idea I am here. If we give them time to come out and spy on the village, or attack us this evening, I lose any advantage I would have had. Furthermore, they tend to mostly sleep during the day. If I can get in there a little before sunset, I may catch them tired and vulnerable.” Toren added to himself, I am also on a time constraint, but they do not need to know that.
Though still wary, Areya seemed accepting of the soldier’s reasoning. “Very well, we will get ready to move right away.” She nodded to her counterpart and the two walked off.
Toren turned to Sam, “What do you say girl?”
Sam whinnied, the telepathic bond they shared told Toren she was eager to help.
“Atta girl. We may need to make a quick escape. I doubt you will fit all the way in there, so lets have you wait right outside. We can assess it fully when we get there.”
“Toren,” the old man had returned. “As you have probably concluded, we don’t have much in the way of weaponry or combatants. We can offer several archers and a couple that can hold their own in a fight. They will get overrun if the full den comes out.”
Herald did not reveal anything that Toren did not already suspect. He also left out that those few would run if the scenario he described happened. “I understand. If I could, I would draw them out, but they will have no incentive to emerge. I will have to go in, alone.”
“I wish we could be more helpful, but the kobolds have killed our two best fighters,” Herald reflected. “They were only trying to defend their families.”
“I am sorry to hear that."
“I can tell by the way you move and compose yourself that you are very capable, but the way you are going about this seems desperate. We could wait, maybe set up traps outside and attack when they leave?”
“No,” Toren said, firmly. “We have no way of knowing when they will come out. Additionally, they are likely to have more than one exit. As soon as they know we are there, my only advantage is gone.” As he looked to the east, he asked, "Will everyone be ready soon?"
Herald nodded ominously, "Yes, I will go make sure." He trekked slowly up the dirt road to one of the homes, then went inside.
The young man found what appeared to be the only bench in the village and took a seat. He began his pre-battle ritual of meditation to prepare himself.
-
Toren was donning his equipment as Areya and Gwen approached. They were each leading a work horse. "We figured they can carry some of the equipment up, as well as take us away quickly if something were to happen," Areya explained.
"A good idea," said the former soldier. He slid the heaviest piece over his head and into place, then strapped it appropriately on the sides. The armor was feeling slightly loose. This traveling has certainly trimmed me down. Perhaps a little too much, he mused. "I am almost ready." He slid his hands into the gauntlets to complete his preparation.
After checking that all the supplies were in good order and secured on his steed, he stated, "I will lead us up there. If something goes awry, stay behind me. Most importantly, if I tell you to flee, you flee." He looked them both in the eyes, one after the other. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," they answered, in unison.
"Very well. Let us gather the others and follow the trail." Toren expertly mounted the warhorse, intending to ride her all the way to save his legs for the inevitable encounter.
As if on cue, several men exited the home Herald had entered earlier. Each had a bow of varying quality, as well as some close combat weapons that had seen better days. Three of the four looked worried; the last, almost eager.
"From the sounds of it, none of you have much experience, if any, in combat," Toren began. "It is important that you listen and follow my instructions when we are up there. Losing your wits will get you killed. I do not intend to put any of you in a position to be harmed. Help each other and watch your backs. If I instruct you to run, come back here immediately."
There was a murmur of acknowledgement, which Toren reluctantly accepted. He steered Sam around and encouraged her to take a slow trot, just fast enough to get the rest at a moderate walking pace to keep up. "We will have to be quiet up there, so if there are any questions or concerns, please voice them now."
"Have you ever fought kobolds before?" the eager one said. He was young, probably in his early 20's.
"Yes. I was probably a little younger than you."
"What was it like?" The fascination was evident in his voice, which made Toren uneasy.
He thought back to that time, over a decade earlier. His troop had gone into a den, likely similar to the one they approached now. He had five well trained warriors of various specialties to infiltrate their home, with the rest of a fighting unit to back them up. Admittedly, Toren was a much less capable warrior back then.
"Dangerous. They may be small, but they fight together well. Better than most humans, elves, and dwarves." Toren then warned, "It would do you well to stay calm. A fight is not an event to look forward to." He did not think that would convince the younger human, but hopefully give him enough pause to not do anything rash. The others would now be aware of the young man's state of mind, in case something unexpected happened.
The group traveled the rest of the way in relative silence, with Toren answering the occasional question. The trail was easy enough to follow, bringing them gradually up the mountainside. “We are almost there,” one of the bowmen stated.
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The armored man held up the reins slightly, bringing his mount to a stop. He smartly dismounted, then donned his helmet to complete his ensemble. The others gathered around, listening intently. “I am going to go take a look, alone, to make sure nothing is waiting for us. Stay here, but remain hidden and alert.”
The six villagers spread out to take cover behind some trees in the immediate vicinity as Toren walked up the trail. The trees thinned out after a minute’s walk, revealing a ledge on the cliff up ahead. The armor made it practically impossible to sneak around, but he was not worried about being heard just yet.
The terrain at the ledge was time consuming to traverse, but not difficult. After another couple minutes, Toren found himself standing near the entry to a cave. He knelt to examine the ground, which beared obvious foot traffic in the last couple days. Though not a tracker himself, it was apparent to Toren these belonged to much smaller humanoids. Well, they are definitely in there, he concluded. He took another minute to survey the scene before returning to the others.
He could easily spot two of them as he approached. “You will have to hide better than that, should the time come to do so,” he said, nodding to each of the guilty parties.
“Of course,” said one.
“We will,” the other replied.
Toren turned to the two women, “Could either of you light up just the blade of my sword, but not the hilt?”
Gwen spoke up excitedly, “Yeah, not a problem! It will not last long, probably an hour.”
“Excellent, once we have established ourselves, I will have you do that. Thank you.” He then unstrapped a pack from the warhorse, swinging one strap over his left shoulder. “Alright, we will move up to where the trees thin out, that is where I want most of you staying.” He pet Sam on her shoulder twice while mentally commanding her to move forward with him.
The villagers remained close as the party arrived at the designated spot. The armored man spun around to face the others. He pointed to his right, “Half of the archers on this side of the path.” He motioned to his left, “The other two over there.” They moved quickly, knocking arrows, but not drawing them.
“Areya, I believe you said you could make illusions, is that correct?”
She cleared her throat, then answered, “Yes, both images and sounds, though not simultaneously.”
“Alright,” Toren said. “If you hear me whistle, can you make it sound like there are a lot of armored people marching out here?”
“Yes, we both can,” she replied, nodding toward Gwen.
“Perfect, please do that should I whistle.” He then addressed Gwen, pulling the sword out of its sheath. “Will you light this up for me?”
“Yeah.” Gwen reached out and placed four fingers of her right hand on the blade. She whispered a few words that Toren did not understand, then the blade lit up in a brilliant white and yellow.
The man then softly spoke a few of his own words, adding a second enchantment to the blade. His, however, caused no noticeable change. He returned the sword to its place, then pulled it out slightly to make sure it still glowed. After confirming, he fully resheathed the weapon. “Thank you. Now both of you stay covered. Keep your mount close should you need to run.”
He watched as everyone took their positions. When he was satisfied they would be as safe as they could, considering the situation, he led Sam up to just outside the cave entrance. He maneuvered her so she was facing toward the path, in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.
Toren removed a small bag from the pack. It clinked lightly as glass bumped into other glass. The former soldier tied the bag to his belt for easy access. He then lifted the fabric covering his shield and removed it from the large compartment on Sam’s side. He slid his right arm through the strap and clamped it down to a comfortable and stable position.
After taking a few steps into the cave, he placed the pack down and removed another small bag. This one he held dangling from his right hand, while also holding his shield. He loosened the opening so he would have no problem grabbing its contents. Finally, he picked up a couple small rocks with his empty hand.
Once satisfied, he cautiously made his way deeper into the cave. Ten paces in and it was already getting dark. His human eyes would only let him continue a little farther unassisted. He paused, gently rolling a rock down as he hugged the wall on the right. It rolled for about ten paces before stopping, triggering nothing as far as Toren could tell.
He moved up another ten paces and repeated the process. This time, he heard the faint click of a crossbow, as a bolt flew by him. One trap down, he thought as he grabbed a glass container from the bag in his shield hand. It was corked at the top with a long, thin neck and a wide base. Bright green liquid filled container. He moved forward, seeing an opening in the tunnel to the left. Toren tossed the glass that direction, which landed in the middle of the opening and exploded into flames. The light from the fire was enough for him to see clearly in the area.
Following another few paces, shouts and cries started to come from further down the cave. There was also a path leading to the right, with more noise from that direction. The man tossed another vial deep into the tunnel in front of him. Again, it exploded in flame filling most of the path. He drew his sword, lighting up the area and moved into the opening on the right.
Though he could not understand what was being yelled, he could tell it was frantic. With some luck, the best combatants would be split up to be engaged separately.
Ting.
A weapon bounced off his armor as he spun to find the source. Two kobolds leapt at him, brandishing daggers. The first hopelessly bounced off his chest piece, but the second found purchase, grazing his side under the chest piece. It was a virtually insignificant wound, but those added up quickly. Damn, how did I miss them? He reflected.
The much larger humanoid retaliated, slashing out at the kobolds. They were ready, unfortunately, ducking his first sweep. One at a time, then, he thought, cutting the one that struck him down with a single swipe from the shoulder across to the opposite hip.
The remaining kobold cried out something in its language while attacking again. The dagger was deflected with ease by Toren’s shield. Utilizing the opening, Toren ran the kobold clean through the stomach. While sunk in the kobold, the light was concealed. He yanked the weapon out, allowing the body to collapse to the ground, while the blade again lit up the area.
Toren transferred the sword momentarily to be grasped by his shield hand. He grabbed another glass container and broke it in the middle of the path behind them, hopefully that deters them for a moment. He placed his left hand on his wound as he continued down his chosen path, “Kraelyn, restore my body,” he whispered aloud. There was a faint white glow between Toren’s hand and his scarred flesh as the wound closed up.
He pressed on, returning the sword to his dominant hand. With the bag in his shield hand now empty, he dropped it to the ground. A bolt flew out from the shadows in front of him, but bounced off his shoulder’s plating. Toren sprinted forward. As he closed the distance, the light revealed four kobolds, two with short swords, the other two with light crossbows. Another bolt streaked toward him, striking the wall of the cave. The man was upon them before any of them could react. In his haste, he missed the first attack, but struck true on his backhanded slash. One of the kobolds holding a short sword had his throat sliced open. It dropped the sword and clutched its neck while backing away. Toren knew that unless the kobold had a way to heal the wound in the next minute, it was doomed.
The others retaliated with their respective weapons. Both bolts glanced harmlessly off the impressive armor, but the short sword slid between plating on Toren’s right leg. It was a light wound, but it could slow him down. He grimaced as he brought the sword down on the kobold, digging into the creature next to its neck. The blade sank in several inches, a mortal blow. Toren kicked the kobold off his sword and into one of its crossbow touting brethren as he advanced on the other.
Neither remaining kobold reloaded. The first tried to help the kobold that was kicked its way while the closer quickly drew a dagger from its ragged clothing, slashing desperately. Toren easily parried the blow with his shield, then stabbed it in the center of the chest. He pulled the blade free and cut the last one standing near him across the chest, sending both it and the kobold it was holding down to the ground.
The noise was growing behind him; the most difficult part was still to come. Once again, Toren called upon his goddess as he laid a hand on his leg. The pain subsided as the flesh was restored, so he marched forward.
This tunnel opened up to what appeared to be a small room at the end. As Toren pressed on, he saw two more kobolds look around the corner and fire bolts at him. The first hit the wall while the second ricocheted off his armor. They both gave up reloading, drawing small swords to defend themselves.
They were ready when he reached them, with three more jumping out from behind with swords of their own. The armored man took a strong swing across the closest two, with the first narrowly ducking under the blade. The second was caught off guard, however, and his body fell to the ground while the head rolled away.
All four remaining cried out, equal parts terror and anger. They tried to surround Toren as they stabbed at him. Two found purchase this time, cutting him on each hip as the blades slid under the folds of armor there.
The much larger humanoid kept his composure as he continued his assault, cutting another kobold down with a hack entering at its side. Unfortunately, the blade stuck halfway into the dragon-like creature. He was just able to yank it free as the others fully surround him, striking again.
Two cut into him again, one under his greaves and another on his side. The extended fight was starting to take a toll. Trying to finish them off in one wide slash, Toren was able to cut two deep in the stomach. Both collapsed while their final companion tried to battle on alone. Losing that advantage was costly; the man could easily focus on a single combatant. Toren finished him with a thrust through the heart.
Blood was starting to streak down his armor as he willed his wounds to close with the aid of his god. Though he was able to fully recover, he still felt phantom pains echo where the wounds once were. My healing is almost spent, he thought, I need to end this soon.
With the weapon grasped in his shield hand as a light source, Toren untied the sack strapped to his side. He held it in his left hand as he turned around, heading back toward the entrance. Keeping his shield in front of him, the human peered over to see how many were waiting for him.
The fire was starting to dwindle in the entryway to the section, but it revealed many prepared kobolds. Bolts flew out as Toren drew near. The creatures seemed far more competent with a blade than a crossbow, as none of the six bolts that came at him found their mark. While they reloaded, Toren tossed the sack into the middle of the group. The man fell to one knee and used the shield to protect him.
Glass shattered as a few kobolds looked down. The bag lit up immediately.
BOOM
The contents exploded. Everything within 15 feet was showered in flame and broken glass.
Toren was up and moving shortly after, transferring his blade back to his left hand. He found one of the kobolds mostly unharmed. Before the creature could react, the human cut it down.
Shouts in what Toren assumed was Draconic, the language of dragons, continued from lower in the cave. There were plenty of kobolds still moving about. He raised his shield and placed the flat edge of his blade against it, so the light illuminated his path. The armored human accelerated to a jog in an effort to get to them before they were fully ready. He passed a crossbow mounted on the wall as he went, one of the traps he set off earlier.
He leapt over the dying flames before him with ease, quickly coming up to a large room. Again, bolts began flying out at him. One grazed his calf while the rest bounced harmlessly off his shield. He found himself looking at a half circle of kobolds brandishing a variety of weapons ranging from a short sword to a cup. Standing on a table behind them was an older kobold holding a staff twice its height pointed at Toren.
As he dove to his left, a blast of lightning erupted from the mage. It struck Toren’s shield partially as the remainder fizzled out on the ground up the tunnel. The electricity spread all over his body, hurting more than all of the attacks he had withstood thus far combined. He landed in a heap on top of two kobolds, knocking one out and pinning the other.
Hastily rising to his feet, the pious man presented his shield to the kobolds, which displayed Kraelyn’s symbol. The spiral pattern with a shield piercing it from above flashed a bright red momentarily as Toren drew upon his god’s power. The effect was immediate on most of them as fear filled their eyes, rooting them in place.
The caster seemed unaffected as it unleashed five bolts of bright white energy, striking Toren with each one. I can not let it continue this, he realized, as he charged the venerable kobold. Some of the others made attempts to slash at the man as he passed, but the effort was futile in their state of mind.
As Toren closed the distance to his target, he willed the blade to strike with his god’s power. The weapon grew warm as he thrust it forward. The light amplified three times its previous luminosity as he sunk the enchanted blade to the hilt through the mage’s stomach. He cleanly removed it, allowing the body to crumble to the ground. The sword returned to a pale yellow glow as he wheeled around, readying himself for the remaining creatures.
Those not affected by the aura Toren emanated started running. It seemed striking down their mage was the last straw. He mentally warned Sam that kobolds were coming out of the tunnel and to be careful. I have to take out as many as I can, so they do not retaliate against the villagers.
The man systematically cut down the remaining kobolds, only suffering a few more light injuries. He then utilized the remainder of his power to heal the worst of the damage, knowing it would not be until tomorrow that he could fully recover. Even after the wounds were mended, he still felt the occasional sting where they once were. Magic may heal the physical injury, but the memory of the pain lived on, sometimes for months.
Toren walked toward the entrance as he finished healing himself, picking up his pack on the way. Once there, he found three kobolds scattered on the ground; two downed by arrows and the last killed by a hoof to the head. He sheathed the sword now that he was out in the light of the late afternoon.
“There should not be any more living kobolds in the cave,” he stated, facing the hidden villagers. They warily revealed themselves, approaching the man and his steed. “How many got away?”
Areya was the first to reach him, saying, “I counted five that slipped out that way.” She pointed the opposite direction of the trail.
“Then I do not think you have anything to worry about. I suggest we head back to the village. You all can bring some more people back to gather any valuables tomorrow.” Toren glanced up at the sky, “Best to return before dark.” He mounted Sam and set off at a quicker pace to the village than they had taken out here.
“How were you able to do that?” the youngest asked, fascination fully returned.
The former soldier turned his head, answering over his shoulder, “About a decade of military experience, much of the time seeing action. It was not a pleasant experience.” He refocused on the path, hoping Herald had the information he was seeking.
As the sun was setting, the party returned to the village. Many concerned family and friends were waiting for them, looking relieved when they spotted the group. There were hugs all around as the villagers understood the kobolds would not be hurting them anymore. Every one of them was thanking Toren profusely, to which he merely said, “You are welcome.”
The man he wanted to speak to came over after a minute. “Sir, we cannot thank you enough.”
“No need, I just want to know what you saw and heard.”
“Of course. The unit you spoke of traveled through here about a week ago. Most of the soldiers remained well outside the village, but some of the officers were here.” Herald had a somber look, but continued, “We offered them food and shelter at a fair price, we thought we had no choice. They took what they wanted and left anyway. Though he was not the leader, there was a man that looked as you described. I overheard that they were travelling to Mith-Fell, then boarding a boat to get out of our lands.”
This was the closest Toren had been. If he hurried, he could probably make it to the great city around the time they did. “What were they planning on doing to get in? They obviously do not belong.”
“My understanding was they would be using disguises. They took some clothing from us here. I doubt they will all go in at once, unless they can make it look like they are a caravan of some sort.”
Toren hopped off Sam and began doffing his armor as they continued speaking, putting the larger pieces in their respective compartments hanging from Sam. “They may be able to, if they can find a few carts.” He paused, then asked, “The man, did you notice anything about him or what he carried?”
Herald brought his hand up to his white beard, stroking it absentmindedly. “You know, he did behave a little oddly. While the whole group was intimidating, none actually drew their weapons on us. He had his out the whole time, though. Mind you, he wasn’t putting it up to our throats or anything. More like he had a fancy sword and wanted to show it off. Does that make sense?”
“What did it look like?”
“A pristine sword, probably very expensive. The hilt was purple and there was a spiral pattern of some sort. I didn’t get the best look at it, though.”
Come to me!
It had been a long time since he heard that voice, but Toren knew right away what it was. “Thank you,” he said, abandoning the removal of the smaller pieces of his armor. He remounted his magical steed, urging her to make haste as they rode off for Mith-Fell.