The Horn of Thorthana sounded out across the campsite and surrounding area. The war horn’s voice echoed off the trees, landing and bouncing back in a repeating cry of threats. The battlefield paused, friend and foe turned to face Stronric. The sea of faces varied, some with shock and surprise and some with awe and excitement. Stronric held his breath, he focused on the spell-bound humans waiting and hoping the horn to work. One gnoll started to cackle nervously breaking the silence and just as Stronric was to give up he saw a human captive look down at their hands. He looked around and saw more were acting as if they were seeing the world around them for the first time.
One human man, average looking and likely nothing more than a farm hand, looked at the other humans around him then to the gnoll and narrowed his eyes in anger and determination. The human lifted the shovel he was holding and wielded it as a weapon. He swung it wildly at the nearest gnoll. A second call rang out as a pang sounded as the shovel rebounded off the dense skull, bringing the combatants back to reality. War cries erupted from the captured humans as they followed suit, using tools, rocks, or their fists to attack anyone around them.
Stronric looked down at the horn with surprise and wonder. He watched the horn fade as the wind carried it away like sand. Stronric felt a surge of power run through his own body. The horn worked on him too. Stronric lifted his weapon into his hands and saw he almost glowed with energy. He smiled and let out a loud chuckle. Stronric scanned the camps and through the clashing gnolls and humans he saw Rugiel. A glowing blue rune shone with power from her forehead, its etched and rigid lines formed the rune of Hearth and Home. Rugiel launched herself into another attack, moving faster than Stronric had ever seen her move. She spun her war hammer and whipped it down on a gnoll who was still looking at Stronric. The gnoll fell to the ground, she wasted no time as she stepped forward reaping death into two more.
Armand fought from his horse, but even seated Stronric could see Armand’s sword lashed out quicker, his sword cutting deeper. The human was obviously benefiting from the horn’s effect. The villagers were also stronger than expected from those untrained. Stronric could only increase their stats and their ability to fight but he couldn’t turn an untrained mob into soldiers. The mental fortitude needed to break the mind-control spell was the goal, so Stronric was more than happy with the results of his new ability.
Stronric rocked slightly as a feeling of a small underlying part of his being was missing. He focused on the feeling and a new window popped up. For half a second nothing appeared in the box, then suddenly letters and numbers flicked and filled in. It was as if some system hadn’t tracked this specific power before or at least in a very long time.
HORN EFFECT DURATION: 29:59.
HORN COOLDOWN: 6:29:59
Stronric could see the seconds ticking down. Maybe this is a custom ability from Thoranthana herself. Where it came from doesn’t matter, knowing we have less than 30 minutes to finish this fight is what does. Stronric also noticed the cool down timer. So the use of my horn is more like six and a half hours than actually six. That must be the feeling, as if a part of me is missing, just out of reach. If some abilities have little details like this in them, I bet there are some we can take advantage of later. The sound a falling body too close brought him back. Stronric’s vision closed as he shut down the window and saw a gnoll face down before him, a bolt protruding from the back of its head. Come on Stronric focus on what matters. Battle!
Stronric launched himself into the fray. He began swinging his axe and each gnoll that tried to stop him was left bleeding out on the ground. Stronric just began to lose himself in the waves of battle, when the scream of a human cut in. He turned to see a woman screaming, kneeling next to her arm, which laid on the ground still gripping the rock she had bashed the bleeding gnoll with. The sound was quickly cut off when the gnoll hacked the woman’s head off, cackling as it rolled away. A gnoll leapt forward trying to take advantage of the distraction, but Stronric dashed to the side his razor-sharp axe following him in a smooth arc, leaving the gnoll tumbling grabbing its bleeding throat. The humans were throwing themselves at the enemy without abandon. He moved to support the villagers and give them a way to flee. It would do them no good to return to the village with only a couple of the humans in tow. Stronric rushed to strike down a gnoll who had kicked a woman to the ground. He could see he wouldn’t be fast enough to stop the gnoll’s killing blow. Stronric lunged forward, trying to take the blow for the woman, when the gnoll’s head exploded showering the woman in a spray of blood. Stronric whisper a thanks to Bauru under his breath and pulled the woman to her feet.
“Retreat! Fall back to the gates manlings!” Stronric yelled as he cut down another gnoll.
Stronric’s voice cut through the blood lust that had come over the villagers. Stronric shook his head. Even the most untrained warriors knew how to withdraw in a fashion that wouldn’t leave you open to attack. These humans were no warriors, and they simply turned and ran towards Stronric and the gate. A gnoll gave chase to a boy and nearly caught up when the gnoll flew back landing hard rolling through the dirt after meeting Stronric’s cold hard shoulder.
When the last human made it out of the gate, Stronric assumed a neutral stance and smiled at the pack of gnolls, cackling and licking their lips in hunger at the lone dwarf before them. Stronric slowed his breathing, stepping seamlessly, transitioning from stance to stance, his axe gliding almost effortlessly through the air. Three gnolls attacked at once. Stronric kicked the legs out from the first and ducked the second’s frenzied attack. He twisted away from the third, gaining enough ground to swing his axe in a wide circle, cutting down all three gnolls in a single blow. Two more gnolls began to run towards him.
Weapon proficiency: Axe level 1
Stronric saw the translucent box appear. Get out of my head, this is not the time!
Stronric closed the box just as the other two gnolls attacked him. He parried the first weapon and moved out of the way of the second. His axe found flesh when he parried the next blow, throwing open the gnolls guard. He buried his axe in the gnoll’s shoulder. He used the stuck ax like an extension of his arm, spinning the helpless gnoll to intercept the other’s scimitar. The second gnoll released his sword, shocked to find it impaled through his packmate. The shocked gnoll was unprepared for the kick to the skewered gnolls meta shield that thrust the body back knocking both gnolls to the ground and freeing Stronric axe. Stronric stepped on the dying gnoll’s chest, swinging his axe down twice, decapitating both.
Stronric assessed the battlefield, taking in his next threat and his companions. A quick movement from the trees, like the blur of shadows waving below the trees, and a crossbow bolt sliced through the neck of one gnoll and impaled the next to a pile of rubbish. The gnoll thrashed against the bolt gasping for air, blood bubbling from its open mouth for only a moment before it hung limp from the bolt through its heart. Stronric caught only a glimpse of the dwarf in those shadows before the wind blew the leaves and he was gone. Only the thump of impaling bots in bodies allowed Stronric to know Bauru was still out there.
It seemed that all the humans had made it out of the camp, leaving only Armand and Rugiel fighting the gnolls at the front gate. Around the pair, crushed and slain gnolls lay everywhere. Behind them, a line of villagers armed with weapons of the dead, supported the duo. When Armands horse kicked out sending a gnoll flying, the humans rushed over, stabbing the creature before it could regain its footing. Rugiel was covered in blood, yet Armand seemed completely clean as he fought. Armand’s mighty warhorse only had the slightest amount of blood and gore upon its armaments. Rugiel’s chest heaved from the effort of swinging her heavy war hammer, but she continued fighting with the fury known to dwarves. The gnoll’s advance paused as their frantic cackling cut through the air. The sound of thundering footsteps becoming louder and louder, just as the troll turned the corner charging straight towards Stronric’s allies. Stronric began to run across the camp. Armand called out to Rugiel, who nodded, before he rode out of the encampment, sheathing his sword and drawing his lance. The humans parted, shaking and unsteadying but still holding their wall in the face of the oncoming troll.
Rugiel yelled something Stronric couldn’t hear over his own labored breathing and the roars of the troll. Rugiel shouted again, and raised her hammer overhead. Stronric stopped in his tracks. As Rugiel brought down her hammer a glowing anvil appeared before her. The anvil was covered in glowing and flowing blue runes, Morgal’s rune shining the brightest in the center. Her hammer came down, sparks flying from the anvil. She shouted and raised her hammer again. Another mighty swing down and more sparks flew. As her hammer fell, a warmth spread down Stronric’s axe. Stronric looked down, sparks glided through the air and were collecting on the blades of his axe. Rugiel shouted once more and with one last swing the sparks rained out. Stronric’s axe began to glow as a small line of blue flames burst from the burrowing sparks, growing and spreading to the edges of his axe. Stronric smiled in wonder and awe, swinging his axe and watching the flames flicker but remain alight.
Rugiel’s anvil disappeared, and she faced down the troll charging her. Stronric continued his run towards the troll. He could see it was just as ugly as the last one he had fought, but it was half the other’s size. This troll was still wider and a few heads taller than most humans. Its gnashing teeth and crude club were just as deadly and vicious, despite its smaller stature. The troll’s club drug on the ground behind it. As the creature made its last leaping steps towards Rugiel, it lifted the crude weapon overhead. Rugiel held her ground, waiting for the last moment before lunging forward. She jumped between the troll’s legs, blue flames exploding across her war hammer as it impacted the back of the troll’s ankle. The troll fell onto one knee and let out a scream of rage and pain. The beast used one hand to lash out, trying to catch Rugiel, but she shifted out of its reach. She danced away as the troll turned slowly getting back to its feet.
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The sound of Armand’s war horse’s charging hooves sounded through the camp. Armand rode with his lance lowered, leaning forward and close to his mighty mount’s neck. His lance glowed with a scarlet light as the two charged the troll’s unprotected back. Stronric could see Armand’s eyes through the slit of his helmet, glowing with excitement and determination as he rode in for the kill. Lightning exploded. Stopping Stronric’s progression, as Armand and his mount let out a scream of pain. Armand was thrown violently from his mount. His foot caught in his stirrup, causing him to dangle from the side of his mount and drag as the terrified beast reeled in pain. Armand weakly tried to reach to free himself, but only managed to lift his torso, stopping it from bouncing off the ground. Rugiel screamed Armand’s name as his mount thrashed and kicked trying to flee from who attacked them. The horse’s mane was aflame, the neck and front quarter were blackened, and the smell of charred meat hung heavy in the air. The horse ran toward the gate, away from the troll and attacker. Armand finally freed himself and rolled to a stop nearby.
Stronric roared in fury, his gaze snapping toward the source of the attack. Standing before him was a gaunt gnoll. Its fur was thin and patchy, faded with age and wear. The spell-caster was draped in a long, blood-red robe, adorned with a macabre collection of teeth—some human, others from unknown beasts. A worn belt fastened the robe, from which hung several pouches, its clawed hand already reaching into one for more spell components. The gnoll's face was a haunting sight, its teeth yellowed and rotting, one eye clouded with blindness. Its ears were tattered, as if savaged by some creature, and dried drool clung to its cracked lower lip. In its grasp, the gnoll held a sinister staff, crowned with dark blood rubies that gleaming with an ominous light.
As Stronric turned to face the attacker, a harsh, guttural cackle echoed through the battlefield. His crooked staff crackling with dark energy. The creature’s bloodshot eyes glinted with malevolent glee, and his ragged, patched fur bristled with excitement.
“Heh heh heh... sssso, the dwarfsss have brought a knight? Puny, weak man-flesh,” the gnoll hissed, licking his cracked lips. “Your armor didn’t ssssave you, did it, knight?”
The gnoll threw his head back in another fit of hissing laughter, the blood rubies on his staff glowing with sinister light. “You thought yer blade would cut me down, but I ssstruck firssst! Heh heh... you’ll fall, knight... and my magicsss will finish what I sssstarted.”
Armand lay on the ground, clutching his wounded side, the foul remnants of a dark spell smoldering on his armor. The knight lay near the group of villagers, just outside of the camp entrance. His body wretched with pain and he twitched and shuddered. The villagers fled at the sight of the lightning, they hung back at the forest edge watching and waiting, fear and sadness in their eyes. The gnoll’s laughter pierced the air, a vile sound that promised more pain to come.
“Ye’ll die for that!” Stronric roared and charge forward.
The wizard stepped back as more gnolls came charging forward. Rugiel let out a scream as she saw her companion lying on the ground. Armand hadn’t been her friend or her kinsman, but she liked to think they had become more than strangers. She knew knights all her life, but only Armand treated her and hers with respect and kindness. Anger and resolve spread through her mind and body as blue Runes spread down her face. She hefted her war hammer up and the blue flames burst forth, wreathing the head of her weapon in flames. Rugiel charged, ducking beneath the troll’s blow. She swung her hammer into the troll’s chest. She felt the reverberations of crunching bones as they broke beneath her hammer. A guttural scream escaped the troll and with surprising speed back handed Rugiel. She flew back and crashed to the ground. She lost no time slamming her fist to the ground and raising back to her feet.
The troll roared and ran towards the female dwarf. Rugiel met its charge, running forward and lifting the hammer as the passed by. The troll was gaining speed and lifted its club, waiting to crush the small dwarf. As Rugiel ran, bringing her own weapon up to block, her loosened hair lifted as a soft whoosh flew past her shoulder. The troll’s attack stuttered, as a crossbow bolt burrowed into its shoulder. The shot bought Rugiel the extra second to block the Troll’s blow. The force of impact drove Rugiel to her knees. The troll laughed, wheezing through broken ribs making a bloody and phlegm sounded. The troll pressed down harder, Rugiel screamed and tried to push back but the beast was far stronger. Rugiel knew her only way out was to abandon her hammer and roll free of the troll’s club. Rugiel fought as she thought through what to do, screaming at the pain and effort. The troll kept her pinned, its cruel laugh mocking her. She looked into the beast’s eye and bared her teeth, her strength fading. Another whoosh and this time the troll’s eye exploded. The beast abandoned his attack, falling back, clutching its face.
Rugiel let out a sigh of relief and almost collapsed from the using her ability to bless her party’s weapons and using her own blue flames, she was almost empty. She looked over her shoulder and saw Stronric engaged with four gnolls, trying to cut his way to the wizard. She knew he would be fine and just the next spare moment to search for Armand. She saw him lying on the group just outside the gate, finally laying still. His still form flamed the rage that bloomed inside of her. She turned back to the troll and screamed. Blue runes spread down her face as she turned to face the troll and started forward. The troll was still writhing on the ground, preoccupied by the bolt that took his eye. Rugiel could see her flames that burned the creature as she fought had prevented the beast from healing. She charged forward, but this time the enemy wasn’t prepared as she swung her hammer into the its elbow.
The Crunching sound of shattering bones followed by the troll’s screams filled the battlefield. The troll abandoned the bolt and with one vicious eye locked onto Rugiel. The creature rolled to its belly and began crawling towards her. Rugiel stood waiting when a long mishappened arm loomed like a snake before it flashed out trying to entrap her. She spun away dodging the attack, her war dress blooming out, revealing the blades. The sharpened blade easily sliced into the troll’s arm. The trolls became even more enraged as its arms began bleeding. The would did not disable the arm, but blood loss and pain slowed the troll’s actions. Rugiel stayed on the troll’s wounded side, bounding forward. Stronric had drilled them night after night on fighting. There was nothing wrong with taking advantage of a wounded enemy. When the battle began all knightly vows, codes of conduct or vision of honor went out the door. A battle was life or death. Honor could be discussed by the living.
The troll could sense the turn of battle and now fought like a crazed beast, lashing out wildly with long clawed hands while still trying to crawl toward Rugiel. Rugiel easily dogged the frantic blows. She waited for an opening, when the troll needed to pause. She leapt forward, she aimed for the Trolls head and swung her hammer with all her might. Her arms vibrated from the hammer’s blow, stopping the troll’s progression but not killing it. The troll tried to lift his head and weakly tried to swipe at her again. Rugiel swung her hammer again and brought it down again and again. Finally, the beast fell still, and she collapsed to her knees. Her vision blurred as her runes disappeared, exhaustion swarmed from the depths of her soul.
She resisted the urge to lie down and sleep and instead stood, dragging her hammer behind her slowly stumbling to Armand’s side. She released the hammer’s handle and dropped to her knees at his side. She slid his helm open. His face was pale and clammy, sweat dotted her brow and he took short painful breaths. He opened his eyes, seeing her face and tried a weak smile before grimacing in pain.
"Milady... is Roi... alright?" Armand’s voice was barely a whisper, each word a struggle. He lay on the ground, his body limp, blood seeping from unseen wounds underneath his armor. His eyes, though glazed with pain, were fixed on Rugiel, desperation flickering in them as he fought to stay conscious. His hand twitched, trying and failing to reach for his sword. She could see his strength fading.
Rugiel thought who was Roi? But with Armand’s calling, his horse limped over and nudged the wounded man. Armand let out a pained laugh. The mount kneeled then lay beside its knight. The horse looked into Rugiel’s eye and she could see the horse was going to stay by Armand side. In life they served each other and in death they would depart together. Rugiel let out a chuckle and a sob together. She gently pet Roi and nodded, accepting the horses choice while tears streamed down her face.
“Roi is here with us. Roi is here.” Rugiel kept repeating herself.
“Go... ‘elp ze others." Armand rasped, struggling to lift his head. "I am wounded... but I will not die zis day.” His voice was firm despite the pain, his determination unbroken as he urged her to leave him behind.
Rugiel shook her head and Armand grabbed her arm. "Vous must go," Armand whispered, his breath shallow but his resolve firm. "We are knights... eet is our duty to protect ze others." His gaze hardened, even as his strength drained, The weight of honor and duty heavy in his words.
Rugiel stood, wiping away her tears, she took a deep grounding breath and stood. She heaved her hammer onto her shoulder and looked back at the battlefield. Stronric seemed to be fighting endless waves of gnolls protecting the one spell-caster. He was slowly making progress, leaving behind a wake of death. She evaluated her own body and strength. She wouldn’t be any good in a fight but…
“Fall in together! Bring those spears up! What are you doing standing around? Stronric, our Thane, is fighting for his life, and you want to just stand there and wait for him to free you?” Rugiel roared from the back of the villagers, her voice fierce and commanding. They jumped into action, forming a rough but determined line of defense. “For the Millstone, for our freedom, AND FOR THE HOLD!” she cried, her words igniting a fire in their hearts.
Stronric heard Rugiel, and a fire was ignited in his heart.
The enemy's mocking laughter echoed across the battlefield as the bolt struck the wizard’s invisible shield, shimmering with arcane energy before deflecting harmlessly away.
"Is that all ye’ve got, dwarf?" the gnoll sneered, baring its rotting teeth in a wicked grin. "Yer shiny tricks won't save ye. Soon, ye’ll be kneelin’, beggin’ for mercy that won’t come!" The creature cackled, its eyes glinting with malice as it watched the bolt fall uselessly to the ground.
Bauru appeared next to Stronric, Stronric jumped back in surprise. His form, a strange yet imposing fusion of dwarf and beast. His straw-colored beard, just longer than scruff, was wild and unkempt, matching the coarse fur that covered his satyr-like legs. Cloven hooves replaced the sturdy boots of a traditional dwarf, and short, curved horns jutted from his forehead, adding a primal element to his otherwise dwarven frame. Despite his thin and gaunt appearance, his stocky upper body carried the unmistakable strength of his people. His left eye was hidden behind a rugged eye patch, but his remaining eye gleamed with sharp intelligence and battle-worn grit.
Dressed in his leather armor that bore the marks of both dwarven craftsmanship and the wilderness. Bauru gripped a large, heavy crossbow. The weapon looked almost too big for his lean frame, but it rested comfortably in his hands, ready to unleash a deadly barrage of bolts. Bauru slung the crossbow and drew his twin daggers from his waist. He looked at Stronric and said, “I’ll follow ye lead my Thane. Rugiel had accomplished her task, now let’s win this battle.”
Stronric face broke into a smile, and he turned and hefted his axe. “For the hold, for the clansman, and for Thorthana!”