Wandering the hills of blood and honour

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

A fine day thought Raenwe, the air was crisp with winter approaching and as clear as Ariyan glass – to his right he could see the towering peaks of the Gorgon’s Crown and to his left he fancied he could yet see the Stonecrowns.  An eagle soared high in the sky looking for a rabbit or simply exulting in the freedom of the skies – no vultures today, a good sign.

The clink of iron on iron and a muffled curse from behind him told Raenwe that yet again young Tannen had either tripped over his over-large feet or those of another man in the patrol; the latter suspicion was confirmed when Eldried snarled and lifted the lad a foot from the ground to glare directly into the boy’s eyes.  “Go easy Eldried, we were all young once – besides in battle he may tread on an ogres foot if he practices long enough!”  The hulking footman laughed, his anger gone as swiftly as it had arisen “aye, we will all be safe in battle as kittens by the hearth if Tannen does as much damage to the goblins as he does us!”  A friendly cuff to the shoulders near sent Tannen flying but the good natured lad chuckled along with the others “my, but if the goblins ate as heartily as you Eldried they’d starve on their meager harvests before the fight and then our victory would be easy indeed”, the men laughed louder and jokes flew back and forth for a whiles as the men set out until the pace of the march set tongues to rest.

“Look yonder Captain” – Eldried pointed across the waving sea of grass to the sight of a youth running towards the patrol – no thought Raenwe, running towards the remnants of smoke rising from our fire, he has yet to see us.  Letting out a bellow Raenwe got the youth’s attention and shortly the panting youth caught up to the patrol.  “Easy lad, take a moment to catch your breath – give him some room lads, leave him some air!”  The lad pointed back the way he had come too short of breath to speak clearly.  “Serien – my village in the crook of the river – goblins”, Raenwe peered over the grass, no smoke in the air, odd if the village had been raided but the lad had an honest look to his eye and no knight of Haelyn ignored the defence of the innocent for fear of ambush.  “Rest lad, our turn for the running!”  Without another word Raenwe set out at a quick march, the alternating jog and walk which left lesser troops gasping but which came to his men as naturally as breathing.  The air was clear, a fine morn for a fight.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

A grim day thought Raenwe looking at the village.  No smoke rose from the crude houses but the briefest glance at the motionless scene told an ominous tale to the veterans of the patrol, the breeze across the grass made more sound than the men as they wordlessly approached the village crossbows cocked and blade bonds loosed.  As they passed the outer fences the men saw the first signs of struggle – a gate torn down here, a door smashed in just beyond.  Few bodies though thought Raenwe looking about – no sign of man nor beast, this is no mere brutalism.   There should be forty or fifty folk in a village this side – and ducks, geese, goats and pigs that many twice over.  The men spread out as they approached to provide a less inviting target to any foes that might await, but the village was silent.  Straightening from the instinctive crouch as a corncrake scattered before him Raenwe sighed in grim realisation, nothing awaits us here but the dead, there is nothing left alive here he thought.  He waved the men forward – “look for signs, whatever struck this place has passed it seems – but be wary lest anything linger in ambush”, the words were spoken from habit alone, each man was already moving knowing their tasks well from years of surveying battlefields and the like.


“Goblins sir”, the expected call was swift in coming and Oeren waved a broken arrow pulled from a rafter as proof to his claim.  A second call from Tannen “Hie!  A body – trapped under this wall.” One by one the men called out their finds and Raenwe’s concern grew.  This was no normal goblin raid.  Eldried called the tally of finds “but the one body – and that half buried, no doubt the others live and dead were taken. Similar with beasts, and tools of the field and hearth – this village is looted bare as a cornfield by locusts!  Tracks aplenty though – heading from the east.  Not all can have fled – from the marks on the walls and beams most must have been captured and taken west.”  Raenwe frowned, his scalp crawling at the presence of that which every commander most feared a wrongness – goblins would normally have looted the place then burned it – killed as much as they took of the livestock and at least every other villager, this was no raid by a mere passing band, they came here for something - that villager was killed by accident from the look of it - they wanted them all alive.


Tannen and Torele finished clearing the wall from the body and set about building a proper cairn – no time to dig a grave with the ground so hard; a swift prayer for the farmer’s soul, a note jotted for any patrol that might follow, and the patrol set out following the tracks, whoever the raiders were, they fled with captives and so would move slowly and be caught swiftly. Whichever lord the marquis set to guard this manor might have been sleeping whilst goblins roamed in numbers o'er their land thought Raenwe, but they’ll find the rovers of the Aegis well awake and hunger’d for vengeance!  The wind was calm, a good day to hunt.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

So young to die alone, a day of sorrow this.  The girl lay abandoned where she had fallen, her simple shift suggested she had been captured in her sleep, her wrists, free of blood or chafing from the ropes tying them made clear she had not struggled against her captors to earn the blow that had struck her down with such brutal finality.  No shame in submission at so tender an age thought Raenwe.  I’ll have blood for this murder ‘ere the day is out.

The men grumbled at the sight of the girl, and swiftly broke boughs from the nearby fir to cover her from scavengers, they were close to the goblins now and to tend the dead before the living would distress the girl’s spirit more than a few hours more unburied.  Hastily said prayers mingled with promises of rescue for her family and requests for her to intercede with Haelyn and tell of their heroism should they die rescuing her family.

Eldried whistled the low warning call of the Bluetail, the hulking man crouched as he peered over the crest of the hill ahead.  Unloosing the bonds on his mighty claymore quietly the guard signed that trouble lay ahead.  Raenwe swiftly paced over to him and peered over the hill.  “A merry throng” whispered Eldried “too many to take at once even for the two score of us” Raenwe nodded, the goblins alone outnumbered them, but those they met – slavers from Fellport possibly – put the patrol at an insurmountable disadvantage.  "They argue" said Tannen, young ears picking up the distant sounds faintly “halfte sind schwach?”   He muttered the unfamiliar words uncertain in his mouth “ihr Meister lag zu uns aber sie haben mich gut gedient?”  Raenwe shrugged, “Brecht, might as well be Khinasi to me” the rest of the patrolmen shrugged equally uncomprehending, but their attention was focused by the exchange that followed.  The villagers were swiftly sorted into two groups, the slavers then headed west, the goblins strapped bundles to the backs of the few villagers still in their midst and set off in a more southerly direction.

“The Goblins first lads – their captives will not last long I fear and the others have a long ways to go.  We’ll go ahead of the goblins and find some spot for ambush – but I want to get some distance from the slavers first.”  Raenwe set a punishing pace as the patrol set out keeping the brow of the hill between him and the goblins.  The hours went by without any obvious spot for ambush and Raenwe began to grow concerned that the goblins would reach some sanctuary or spot the patrol before Eldried could find them a good ambush site.

Raenwe’s fears grew as the goblins continued even as dusk approached, “we’ll lose them in the dark – or they’ll stumble on us, and the night favours their eyes – that copse of trees will have to do, Eldried, take a dozen to the stream yonder and take cover in the ditch it makes, we’ll stand in the copse, when the last goblin reaches that stump loose your quarrels as best you can.”  Eldried and his squad swiftly took up their positions and the patrol his as best they could.   The minutes lengthened as the patrol waited for the goblins to catch them and Raenwe feared briefly that they had misjudged the goblins' path until the wind picked up blowing from the east and carrying the scent of goblins and fear.  Raenwe smiled, blessed Haelyn, ‘tis a good day for our enemies to die.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

An eve for vengeance, the goblins strolled across the field, careless as though picking daisies, their captives a huddled knot clearly too exhausted to pose the slightest concern to the goblins.  “wait for it lads, take your time to aim”, vengeful words more breathed than spoken, the goblins continued their amble towards the copse oblivious, young bucks mostly thought Raenwe, Sera must be watching us, one of their veteran scouts would have seen us a dozen times this day most like.  Let Sera’s favour hold a few moments more and this battle will be short.  The last goblin reached the stump and Raenwe loosed his quarrel at the brute in the lead, the quarrel, a pair of corncrake feathers bound to the shaft whined like a swarm of angry bees and within a heartbeat the rest of the patrol loosed in response.

The lead brute dropped like a stone, a dozen of his cohorts head and shoulders taller than the rest of the goblin scrawns fell but moments after.  Before the surviving goblins could rally themselves Raenwe let out a roar and charged, “Haelyn! Honour and vengeance!”  The goblins began drawing their blades, but characteristically of young warriors failed to gather together swiftly enough to form a solid defence.  The patrolmen plowed into the foremost goblins in trained pairs, the first man of the pair parried the goblins blade, the second man struck at the abruptly defenceless foe.  Two dozen more goblins fell bleeding in the soil in the time it took the last of their fellows to understand the doom upon them and ready themselves to retaliate.

A goblin scrawn lunged at Raenwe from the left as a brute lumbered from his right hacking away with its axe.  The pair drove Raenwe back a half dozen paces until one of the patrol sharpshooters waiting in the copse saw the Deacon’s predicament and dropped the scrawn with a bolt clean through its head.  The brute started in surprise as the bolt flew past its head and seeing it was off-balance Raenwe shouted a warcry and performed Cuiracen’s parry, hacking the brutes hand from its wrist to send its axe flying.  Weeping the brute fled clutching its dripping wrist, mindful that the battle was yet un-won Raenwe ignored the fleeing brute and moved to aid Tannen who was tiring rapidly defending himself from one of the few remaining brutes.

A few moments later and the surviving goblin scrawns fled, unwilling to fight the patrol with the brutes that bolstered their courage fallen.  “Tannen, Griff, tend the fallen and villagers.  Eldried to me!”  Raenwe barked orders quickly and ran after the fleeing goblins, but half a candle and they will be gone in the dark and us none the wiser to their lair he thought grimly.  And to hold so many bucks it must be over-large to ignore. A bloody eve, to become yet bloodier ‘ere dawn.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

The goblin scrawns left no trace in the deepening shadows of evening, but the wounded brute left a clear trail of broken shrubs and bloodied leaves.  Sera indeed must have favoured one of the captives to so show us the path that we may claim vengeance thought Raenwe.  The tracks led into a small copse of trees and abruptly stopped, Eldried cursed and began looking about for where the goblins had fled “there must be a lair somewhere near – no doubt hidden, ahh, but if my hound were with me we’d be on them already!”  The patrolmen grumbled and cast about for further signs, none of them desiring to blunder about the woods with goblins so close – mayhap they had slain two score, mayhap even fifty this eve, but how many warriors lay in wait in the lair?

An abrupt shrill scream came from the left followed by a cry to arms.  Eldried stood in the hollow of a dell fighting a pair of scrawns, a third scrawn lay collapsed on the ground screaming as it tried vainly to stuff its insides back within its belly.  Torele caught up to the fray in moments and stabbed one of the scrawns in the side, seeing itself alone the remaining scrawn tried to run only to fall with Eldried’s knife lodged in its back.  “Over here” said Eldried unnecessarily, “a cave mouth, and it reeks of goblin to prove our path even had it not been guarded.”

Raenwe smiled and scratched an old scar, “a good throw of the knife Eldried”, the patrolman smiled in pride “aye sir, he’ll not warn any of our coming”.  Eldried paused a moment, “well, not that those who fled our ambush will have kept silent I suppose, but ‘tis one less to slay in the dark”.  Raenwe let the men chuckle a moment to raise their spirits before lighting a torch and leading the way into the dark of the tunnel.

The tunnel led down sharply but Raenwe set a good pace – the goblins would flee if they believed they were out matched or set traps otherwise given time to plan, “ware below” called Eldried and Raenwe stopped as through struck grimacing at the recognition of his near fatal haste – in the flickering torchlight the goblin trap was clear, a scattering of soil over cloth sought to conceal the pit but the haste of the covering was its undoing for Eldried’s keen eyes had spied its all to regular shape swiftly enough warn of the danger.

Raenwe carefully skirted the pit cursing the slim walkway about its rim; the brutes cannot simply leap gazelle like o’er it – some covering must be beyond and needs be found – else one of us will fall in and greet spears covered with mere rust at the bottom if they are lucky.  Eldried crossed the pit loosing a skittering of stones that left the rim crumbing, even as Eldried reached back to aid Torele the true trap of the goblins was revealed as a dozen brutes leapt from the darkness to attack the patrolmen.  Cries from behind told Raenwe his loyal lads were hurrying about the pit to his aid and he roared “belay your haste fools!  ‘Tis their plan and yon pit hungers, ready the sister!”  Roaring a warcry Raenwe leapt forward swinging his blade wildly at the packed brutes, Eldried but a moment behind.

“Faster lad!” Raenwe lunged, parried and slashed like a man possessed, and through sheer ferocity halted the goblin rush.  The goblins recoiled only briefly however and Raenwe and Eldried swiftly tired from the wild assault.  “Sister Rieva sings!”  The cry from behind told Raenwe they had lasted long enough and the two patrolmen threw themselves to the ground. A split second passed before the rest of the patrol called "Rieva bass!”  Half the patrol, kneeling at the edge of the pit loosed their crossbows into the mass of goblins.  “Reiva alto!”  Even as the first goblins collapsed the second rank of patrolmen, standing behind their fellows loosed in turn.  In the tightly packed tunnel the quarrels were murderous, able to punch a hole wide enough to put a man’s fist through in good plate at fifty paces, at half the distance the goblin’s chainmail parted like mist when struck by the bolts and the goblins fell like water from the clouds.

Raenwe rolled to his feet praying that any goblins living were too shocked to attack before he could regain his breath – or his men reload.  A single goblin stirred from the mass of bodies, the frantic clicking of crossbow cranks told the Captain his men were far from ready and Eldried’s pale face and bloody brow told Raenwe that it was to him to press the attack.  Staggering towards the goblin Raenwe lunged forward in an attempt to stab the wretch.  Fatigue undid him and he slipped in a pool of blood, falling clumsily at the goblin’s feet, his blade flying from his grasp and clattering on the tunnel floor.  A look of unholy glee crossed the goblins face and with a shriek it hacked down with its hatchet.  Raenwe ducked to the side frantically, the hatchet barely missing his face, a moment later the goblin swung again and Raenwe desperately parried the hatchet with his bracer feeling his right arm go numb to the bone from the impact.  “Belinik’s balls!”  The blasphemous curse slipped between his teeth and the Captain punched the goblin in the crotch in swift penance.

The goblin staggered and Raenwe yanked hard on its ankle pulling it down beside him.  “Damned thing!”  With his good left hand he grabbed it by the shoulder and head butted it in the face feeling its nose shatter, the captain butted it twice more before staggering upright leaving the goblin dazed at his feet.  “I have it sir”, Jadrien dashed by and swiftly finished the goblin.  Raenwe blearily peered about, struggling to wipe the blood from his eyes and catch his breath at the same time.  A murmured prayer and the touch of Jadrien’s hand cleared his sight a moment later and the young priestess swiftly moved to his cradled arm to repeat her healing prayer.

Healthy again, Raenwe gathered his sword and followed Eldried into the tunnels.  A series of twists and turns the usual blind alleys slowed the patrol but the tunnel swiftly opened into a natural cavern.  A dozen goblins, clearly waiting for the patrol threw their spears as soon as the men entered the cavern.  Eldried fell, his leg impaled by a well-cast spear and Torele dropped like a stone as a spear struck him in the face.  Striking one spear aside as it flew and feeling another break on his breastplate Raenwe led the rest of the patrol into the fray, outnumbered the goblin warriors fought viciously but could not stand against the patrol.  "They died to give their fellows time to flee lads, prove them wrong!" The patrol swiftly fragmented into hunting groups and set about the bloody work of hunting down the fleeing survivors.

Charging about a corner in pursuit of a fleeing wretch Raenwe came upon a gaggle of goblin wenches and cubs; the goblin wenches cowered at the sight of the bloody patrolman, and bared their pallid buttocks in supplication as the cubs huddled beyond.  Twisting his mouth at the sight of their craven behaviour and scrawny haunches both, Raenwe hardened his heart, goblins are born to evil and in evil alone do they live, any wench left alive will breed cubs, and those cubs will show us none of the mercy they seek from us this eve.  But the cracking of their skulls was loud in the tunnels and none of the logic long thrashed out in debating chambers of the Aegis soothed the twisting in the Captain’s soul caused by the slaughter that followed.  Slaughter is never good, but with such beasts it is necessary, and that bitter solace must suffice until the days when men walk free of the threat of such beasts and choices such as this are no more.

Raenwe walked back to the main cavern quietly, listening to the echoing cries of the goblins and shouts of his men and wishing, as ever, that Haelyn would bless him with warrior foes and spare him the need for grimmer bloodwork.  “Five men dead, Moergart and his team were ambushed – a goblin shaman stunned them with some curse and they were dead by the time we reached them.  The others are fine – Eldried’s leg is the worst injury and the bleeding has been stopped.  We killed mayhap three score cubs and wenches, the rest fled deeper into the dark.”  Jadrien sighed and paused briefly in her report, “more villagers were found in one of the caverns – dead and mostly half eaten.  All were elderly, very young, or crippled by the look of it”.  A loud crash echoed and she smiled, “oh yes, and one altar to the foul demon they worship torn down and cleansed!”

"Enough then" said Raenwe, "we have others to care for and this tribe will be long in running and healing from this nights work.  We tire and should be back above and encamped before we become over weary".  He sighed and watched his men gather the dead and bind their wounds before setting out for the surface, a bloody day, may tomorrow be brighter.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

A cold day mused Raenwe our quarry has a good days lead ahead – likely two by the time we regain their trail.  Their bandages were tight and the wounds beneath sore, but the men were eager to be off.  Raenwe looked at the villagers, “can you walk?”  The villagers murmured ‘ayes’ but without spirit. “they are tired still and without heart – they’ll not get a dozen miles” muttered Eldried glumly “Pah!” Cried one of the gramma’s overhearing him, “There’s strength yet in these old bones if not wit between those ears” a gaffer laughed at her words and asked “what of this tote though?  I carried the damned thing all yesterday and I’d not see it left for goblins – but it is too heavy to bear a second day”  Raenwe frowned, and pulled open the bundle curious what the goblins had traded for their captives.  “Blades – and well forged blades at that, no makers mark though”.  Tannen waved the contents of another of the bundles.  “This one is metalwork of some sort, the steel for a crossbow from the look, just the wood to be framed about it missing.”  Raenwe cursed “heave it up lads; we’ll not leave good weapons here for the claiming – and using ‘gainst us another day.”

Rain will fall soon, whatever luck Sera granted us seems ended, we will be lucky to find the slavers trail when we return to the meeting point.  The peasants, mostly the old and children, together with the weapons sold to the goblins slowed the patrol’s pace to a crawl and Raenwe bit back oaths of frustration. A moral dilemma worthy of an Orthodox priest, he thought grimly, lead these folk back to safety – such as it is, and sacrifice those taken by the slavers ahead; or leave these folk to the wild and hope them safe whilst we strike out to rescue their kin.

After several hours there was a moan and one of the elders stumbled, barely caught by the arms-man beside her.  “We slow you down sir knight” said one of the villagers, “while we stumble and creak our way home our children and parents are carried off to slavery, a curse on my old bones to condemn my sweet daughter so.”  The other elders nodded, “those goblins will not trouble us for years judging by green blood upon your cloaks, and we know this land and can hide well enough.”  Raenwe scowled, unsure of his duty – these folk needed them and to abandon them rankled as much as the thought of leaving those taken. “Please sir, find my mommie and bring her home” a girls high voice left the patrol men wincing, “please sir” the other children began pleading in turn and the men shifted uncomfortably unsure of how to proceed.

“There were no more than two dozen of them sir, if a few of us stayed to bury the weapons and guide these folk home the rest could travel more swiftly”.  Raenwe frowned, weighing the risk of more goblins that might assail the villagers if they were left and finally nodded, “Gavin, Elamien, Adaere, Colier, Eldried – you are most injured of us guide the villagers to safety” .  Eldried erupted arguing to go with the Captain immediately, as Raenwe had expected “enough man!  It’s only by Haelyn’s grace you stand now and you do that unsteadily!”  Eldried glowered back at Raenwe “I stand well enough Captain, and my blade is the finest you have – aye and I’m your finest scout also – who else will find their trail for you?   My leg is well enough healed, and Jadrien will heal the last of the injury tomorrow.”  Raenwe snorted and held up a hand as the rest of the patrol assigned to guide the villagers home started to list the triviality of their wounds and skills in the hunt in turn.  “I’ve made my choice – lead these folk back to their village, then head after us.  We’ll leave trail as much as we can, but for now we move hard and fast.”  Eldried scowled horribly and stomped off cursing, Raenwe grinned, cheered by the man’s temper, and with smiles of relief the patrolmen dropped the heavy bundles for Eldried and his men to hide and set out for the slavers trail in high spirits.  The day is fine; life is ever brighter when the hunt is begun.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

Mist in the morning, fog through the afternoon, rain every time one has dried from the last shower.  Welcome to Mur Kilad.  Raenwe tugged his cloak tighter as he walked and wished, not for the first time, that he had accepted the coat his wife made for him, practical garments coats – no need to hold them shut every moment, but oh how fine a flowing cloak looks when dry! Raenwe’s tired reverie was disturbed by a call “Captain, over here!”  The cry was urgent and Raenwe hurried over to the patrolman.  “This is where they rested last night”.  The fire scorch was plain to see, the sod replaced over it so carelessly as to offend Erik.  “And here sir – it seems the slavers enjoyed their eve”.  Jadrien pointed bitterly down at the huddled bodies of two women cast into the brush. “Haelyn have mercy on them, may their suffering in this life lead them to grace in the next.” 

Raenwe ordered a brief rest while the bodies were retrieved and buried beneath hasty cairns.  This land will be settled over the blood and bones of the innocent if order cannot be swiftly spread, I must call the High Marshal for reinforcements. Raenwe stopped his worries and put the steel of confidence into his voice to turn his men's minds from the grim scene “all right lads!  We’ve got another hour or two of day left – let's make the most of it.”  The night drew in cold and the wet clothes of the patrol turned icy but Raenwe’s pace was unflagging, how many more will die this eve?   How many girls are being toyed with as I grumble about the chill in my toes? There was no answer and so Raenwe stomped on into the gloom the patrol following silent behind.  Eventually Jadrien spoke up “enough sir – we’ll lose the trail, such as it is, in the dark” Jadrien placed her hand on the deacon’s arm – “there will be time to fight tomorrow; at their pace we’ll have them by evening unless we break our legs stumbling in the dark.”  Raenwe looked about the rest of the patrol, few of whom were willing to meet his glare.  “Sir?” Jadrien’s voice was calm.  “The trees over there would give us some small shelter from the wind”.  Raenwe nodded defeated and drew his cloak about him as he found a dry spot to huddle down, tomorrow there would be a reckoning.

The next morning was even grimmer than the last, and the fog was thick when the men set off.  Scuffed moss here, the odd broken twig there, the evening rain had left few other clues to follow.  Raenwe set a less punishing pace than the day before, the aches from the battle in the goblin lair only the worse for the long march yesterday and cold eve. At noon Vaesil returned from scouting ahead a doleful look on his face, “I think we lost them Captain.  We’ve seen no sign that might be from the villagers for an hour, and have not seen a trail they could have taken in near as long.  They may have turned north towards the ‘Crown long ago and left us following ghosts and whispers”. Raenwe shook his head, “then why come this far west and miss Doom’s Road?  The Gorgon’s minions cut their master a fine road through his realm and far easier it is to walk that road than crossing the peaks this far west!  No, they have to be ahead somewhere.  Merciful Haelyn!  A sign!  Smoke!”  The plume was barely visible and would have passed unseen in the lingering fog had the sun not appeared between the clouds for a brief moment.  An hours march and they found the slavers camp of the last eve.  Spirits high the men barely paused before setting out on the trail, each calling out new signs as they went.  The trail is fresh, they left their camp late for some reason.  Raenwe smiled for the first time that day, we will have them soon.

The priests made good time and as the afternoon went on found tracks aplenty.  “No more than an hour ahead now sir, we should give thought to stealth least some laggard see us”  Vaesil had barely spoken when an arrow struck him in the side, the chain between chest and back plates insufficient to turn the blade which bit deep.  Blood gurgling in his throat Vaesil collapsed as the tired patrol hastily dived for cover from the sudden flurry of arrows from the scrubby bushes about.  “Steady lad, we’ll be with you in a moment”, Raenwe called but Vaesil’s choked gasps made clear that even Jadrien’s prayers would be insufficient him.  A whistle of feathers in the wind more arrows flew from the bushes around the trail.  “They are moving around us sir” called Jadrien, hastily cranking her crossbow.  “I think there are a fair number behind yon thorn-bush”.  The patrol began loosing their quarrels into the bushes wherever they saw movement but to little obvious effect that Raenwe could see.

The patrol had poor cover and arrow after arrow from the hidden slavers found their mark, mostly to the dull clank of metal on metal, but all too often Raenwe heard a muffled moan as an arrow found an spot between the armour of a patrolman.  “Enough of this, we’re being cut to ribbons out here!  Charge!”  Raenwe heaved himself up with a roar, loosed his crossbow into a bush then followed the path of the bolt, blade held high.  Three steps, an arrow bounced off his shoulder guard, six steps more and an arrow splintered on his breastplate, a dozen more steps further and his head rung from an arrow to his helm that left him seeing stars.  There! Thought Raenwe exultant at the sight of the foe; three of the slavers hunkered down behind a bush, one struggling to nock a last arrow, the others pulling blades to meet his charge.

Two of slavers foolishly stood in the dip behind the bush where they had been hiding from the patrolmen’s quarrels to wait Raenwe’s charge and the other tried to meet Raenwe alone.  Raenwe shoulder-barged into the first slaver sending him flying and was upon the two beyond before they had readied themselves.  Standing in the dip below him the first had no chance to parry the swift downward hack at his shoulders that dropped him bleeding on the ground; the second, still trying to ready his bow dropped the arrow as his friend fell and swung the bow itself at Raenwe.  What sort of idiot tests a bow against a claymore?  I’d gut the trainee who was so foolish!  Raenwe scorned trying to break the stout looking bow and instead turned his blade as he struck, the blade skittered along the bow and sliced the fingers from the left hand of the foolish slaver who promptly dropped the bow and fled howling cradling his crippled hand.

Turning to face the third slaver, Raenwe was distracted by a roar of anger, a huge slaver garbed in black scaled armour charged at him swinging a mace.  Haelyn, the brute is eight foot tall!  He must be at least half ogre!  Raenwe readied himself, measuring the brutes pace and trying to estimate the likely swing.  The two exchanged blows and swiftly fell into a pattern of parry and jab, each seeking to measure the other's skill and find some weakness in their defence.

The huge slaver abruptly stepped back six paces and grinned widely; a sudden searing pain in Raenwe’s side erupted as an arrow struck him and the slaver’s purpose became clear.  He never intended to fight me himself, just to hold me long enough to give his cowardly allies time to position themselves.  Raenwe staggered from the blow, his legs abruptly weak and tried to regain his stance.  Another arrow, this time in his back, and Raenwe fell to the ground, the earth cold beneath him.

Raenwe gasped for breath, the abrupt roaring of blood in his ears drowning out the sound of combat as the surviving members of the patrol fought the slavers.   Someone to the right, Jadrien, struggled in a net; an armsman to the left struck down a slaver then fell, a blade in his back from a second slaver’s attack.  Raenwe’s eyes blurred as he struggled to stand and he fell a second time.  Stand or die on your knees fool, Raenwe staggered a third time to see the huge slaver approaching laughing, “die a failure godsman, know the villagers you would have saved will serve our master till their dying breath”, the slaver batted Raenwe’s blade from his hand with his mace and smashed Raenwe in the head with the backswing, Raenwe collapsed reeling his vision going dark; a cold day, and a long night coming, Haelyn have mercy on those I failed.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

A night of loss, a morning of pain; but I live, and while I live I fight.  Raenwe dreamed of his wife’s kisses on his cheek and wondered why he ached so and felt so chill; where was he?  Why so cold when the hearth should warm the house?  Sudden remembrance awoke him to his situation and he awoke shaking the falling snow from his face.  I am in Mur Kilad, following slavers, we were ambushed, I fell, ‘tis morning and snow is falling, I must move or perish and fail in my quest.

Raenwe rolled onto his side slowly, struggling for breath whichever fool they left to slit my throat should be flogged for using a blunt knife he thought, coughing as the air rasped in his torn throat.  The gourd at his belt was broken, but enough of the healing draught within was left soaked in the leather to staunch the bleeding of his throat and clear his breath, Haelyn, I trust thee to watch the wound in my back for it is beyond my grasp. His armour and blade were gone, no doubt looted by the slavers, his boots fortunately had been left, no doubt the slavers scorned the mean coppers they would have fetched if carried off.  I may not be ready to fight but my feet are dry so stop lazing and move yourself Raenwe! Bullying his aching body into obedience as he would a recalcitrant cadet Raenwe rose to his feet heedless of the pain.

Raewe staggered over to one after the other of his guardsmen, Cuiraécen sing their praises, ambushed yet we accounted for our number and more so last eve.  Adaere’s sword lay just before him, nailing a slaver to a tree through the heart and thrust with such strength a full handspan of steel projected on the other side of the tree.  “Your first patrol and your last lad, had you remembered your drill you’d have tempered the thrust and mayhap lived to make another, but bless you for your courage to follow and fight after I fell” muttered Raenwe proud of the fallen youth.  The sword was tightly wedged in the tree, no doubt why the stout blade had been left when the slavers stripped the dead, despite his efforts Raenwe could not pull it free of the trees grip.  Erik’s child suffers the blow unkindly and clearly reclaims his wrought bones in payment, so be it, I’ll find another weapon for my hand.

The slavers had been thorough in their looting and little remained, a dirk buried under the body of a fallen slaver, Shaene’s healing draught stuffed safely in his sock still scented with the perfume of his betrothed Ivinie but no less welcome a balm for Raenwe’s side and back when drunk for its cloying air, the scattered contents of a pack cast aside by one of the guardsmen as they charged into the fray no doubt too much trouble to gather together and carry off.  Enough left here for me to bandage my wounds as best I can and change to something dry to ward away Kriesha’s hunger - if scant defence against a blade.  Lord Haelyn, my thanks for your providence.

Raenwe looked about before he set out and frowned, the ambush site had clearly been well chosen, several of his men had stumbled in ditches as they charged, others been caught on stakes before they reach the archers.  The slavers knew we were following somehow – this site would have taken an hour or more to prepare.  Raenwe checked the last of the bodies and laid his men straight with a prayer before setting out on the trail anxious to be off before the falling snow eradicated all trail.    I have a blade, and my temper – to ask for more would be ungrateful Lord Haelyn, your mercy in sparing me will be proven for I will not fail you again.  Raenwe set out, blade in hand and a prayer on his lips. ‘Tis a bright day when a man is spared to seek redemption.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

The morning air was chill, too chill to encourage true blizzard from the falling snow and Raenwe increased his slow pace as aching wounds settled into dull aches.  As first hours passed the muddy tracks slowly vanished the snow masks what little trail was left behind thought Raenwe grimly, he frowned, he had no real skill in tracking and without the footprints of the surviving slavers was at a loss.  Haelyn grant me some clue to pursue, the prayer was barely spoken when it was answered.

“wachen du Abschaum auf”, the harsh voice was barely a score of paces beyond and Raenwe dodged behind a bush quickly, a challenge from a guard?  Had he been seen? Raenwe carefully peered through the foliage, a slaver stood in a small clearing looking at huddled forms on the ground.  He’s telling them to get up, it was late when we were ambushed and I set out early – I’ve stumbled on their camp barely a league after following their trail Haelyn be praised.  Raenwe carefully moved behind another bush to get a better look at the camp.

The slavers seemed in little hurry to be off; preferring to eat a hearty breakfast and massage aches than march, but their leader and the hulking brute Raenwe had fought the day before soon bullied the others into movement.  The villagers had clearly slept with bound wrists; the slavers checked the bonds and at a command from their leader tied a rope from the neck of one to the next to prevent any stepping from line.  Three captives received special attention and Raenwe stifled an oath, Caelan, Stiele and Jadrien – my lads, battered from the look but unbroken in spirit.  The captured patrolmen were blindfolded and their arms tied to branches laid across their shoulders, a villagers tasked to guide each in the march.

Raenwe smirked, they are worried that their captives will flee – and so they should, barely more than a dozen slavers to guard three of mine and fifty villagers, if they had the wit of a Rjurik merchant they’d leave half here and not risk insurrection.  Truly greed is eternal in the spirit of weak men.  A girls gaze passed about as she was yoked and Raenwe saw her eyes widen briefly in hope, trust a keen eyed wench to see me, may she be wise enough to hide her find, he grumbled, tucking himself deeper behind the bush, well there is nothing I can do against a dozen alone, I’ll have to follow and wait for a chance - nightfall most like.

“Sie zwei! Bleiben Sie hier und bedecken Sie unsere Schienen.”  The command was directed to two of the slavers who nodded grimly and began covering the fire as the rest of the camp set out on the trail.  Raenwe smiled at the opportunity thus presented and carefully moved about the camp and kept an eye on the main troop until it was gone from sight and earshot and settled to wait for the two left behind.  The two slavers clearly uneasy at being alone hurried to bury the remains of the fire, pull back or trim torn bushes and reduce the clear trail left in the snow by brushing the trimmed branches as they slowly backed off. They’ll cover the tracks for a little while then trust the distance from the camp sufficient that the trail would be unlikely to be picked up by any pursuers before it was covered by snow or washed clear by rain, I move now or never.

Raenwe hefted the dirk and wrapped his cloak about his left arm with two stout-seeming branches as meager armour within while he waited for the two to pass him.  As he rose his wounded side twinged and his steadying hand caught a branch, breaking it and his planned ambush both.  The two slavers started in surprise, then cursed calling out to their fellows and dropping their branches to draw steel.  Cursing his weakness Raenwe lunged before the slaver's blades could clear their scabbards, slashing the taller slaver across the face and making the shorter man jump back. 

Raenwe ploughed on, parrying the short slavers wild swing with his cloak and hoping the lack of pain meant that the crack within was wood not bone.  “Justice for those you have slain and ensnared fools!”  The cry made Raenwe feel better but had little impact on the recoiling slavers.  “Bravely said for a man barely standing and waving a butter-knife” said the short slaver lunging again contemptuous of the small dirk.  Raenwe parried the wild lunge easily and riposted, burying the dirk in the slaver’s stomach, “Bravery needs no great blade to flower” said Raenwe exultantly twisting the knife until the rush of blood made his hand slip from the hilt.  The short slaver dropped to the ground squealing, his hands clamped to his belly as though by holding the wound he could undo the fatal blow.

“Schweinhund!  you’ll pay for that”  The tall slaver stepped past his huddled ally and smirked at the sight of the now unarmed captain. “What will you do now – your shielding cloak’s shredded, your blade gone, beg for mercy fool and I may let you live as a slave.”  Raenwe snorted and spat “fat chance boy, I was breaking scum like you before your mother spat you from her womb”.  Stepping forward Raenwe threw the tattered cloak at the tall slaver, despite the flimsy threat the slaver ducked reflexively and Raenwe jumped forward and grabbed the slavers wrists before he could raise his sword, turning the blade in towards the slaver and away from the captain himself with practiced skill.

Swiftly realizing that the brutal captain was more than his match for muscle the tall slaver cried out again for his allies and Raenwe realized he could not risk slowly turning the blade until it breached flesh or was dropped.  Gritting his teeth Raenwe butted the tall slaver in the face, and on seeing the thick skulled slaver barely stunned from the blow ducked forward and bit the man savagely, tearing off his nose before stepping back and planting his knee in the juncture of the slavers breeches.  The slaver crumbled at the ignoble assault and Raenwe loosed the crippled mans left arm and gouged the man in the face tearing out his eye.  Moans turned to sobs and the slaver dropped his blade and tried to flee.  Implacable in vengeance Raenwe jumped onto the man’s back and gripped him about the throat the two rolled about the dirt until Raenwe snapped the slaver’s neck with a savage twist.

Raenwe shook his head to clear the cobwebs and gazed down the path – nothing, no shouts of angry slavers wondering where their fellows were, just snow falling more and more heavily, Haelyn be praised for small miracles, the wind must have caught the cries.  The short slaver lay still, gasping his last in a pool of slowly freezing blood and made no resistance as Raenwe pulled the dirk from his stomach or cloak from his back.  Hmm, the other is more my size and cleaner to boot thought Raenwe as he hastily stripped the taller slaver of mail and recovered the dropped blade.  A pity they both left their packs for the slaves to carry, my bellies growling loudly enough to rouse a bear to challenge and the few trail biscuits I recovered this morn are scant comfort.

Pulling on the chain Raenwe rolled both bodies into the undergrowth and cautiously set off down the trail.  They’ll expect their friends to rejoin them soon – I’d best leave the trail ‘ere I am discovered.   Voices ahead gave him pause and he moved away from the trail cursing the snow that clearly marked his path.  The wind picked up bringing the voices more clearly to him and he nearly laughed out loud, a trail song – no wonder the fight hadn’t been heard!  It must have been the girl who saw me – the brave chit must have hoped it would aid me and be favoured enough by the slavers for its pace-setting tune not to earn her a beating.  Haelyn be praised, his courage found in the hearts of e’en the stricken!

A few moments cautious approach through the undergrowth and Raenwe caught sight of the slavers slowly walking ahead; they are nervous, looking back for their missing fellows.  The huge slaver hurried to catch his leader and the two men argued, waving arms conveying the gist easily enough, they know something is wrong, the brute wants to go back and find out what happened, his leader knows they are to few to risk losing another and still too close to the Morcosoer border to slow their escape by waiting or returning. They’ll be watching for me from now on, I’ll have to be careful

Raenwe grinned, so long as he didn’t lag too far behind he could follow their trail readily in the snow, when night came he might be able to free his men or enough villagers to make an even match of it – particularly if he could pick off a few more of the slavers here and there.  The night last was grim but the day holds promise, and this eve I will fulfil my quest or die trying.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

The moon was bright behind the clouds and the snow fell gently in the crisp still air.  The slavers campfire burned brightly and reflected off the huddled bodies about it.  They enjoy no spoils tonight thought Raenwe, they know I am out here and fear being caught with their breeks down.  The thought amused him, simply by surviving he spared the captives a night of torment.

Raenwe carefully circled the camp looking for safe approach and sentries both, cursing the brightness of the fire that stole his night vision each time he glanced incautiously towards the camp.  Snoring drew him to the first unwary sentry and provided him with warm gloves and a flask of hearty brandy to boot; Sera’s favour was fickle though and the second sentry was wakeful and nervous, peering about constantly and clearly ready to raise alarm in a moment. 

Raenwe frowned wondering how best to deal with the man, then froze as he heard footsteps in the distance.  Carefully sneaking towards the sound Raenwe peered through the branches of a bush towards the sound.  A brace of rabbits!  His stomach growled, but the hungry smile on Raenwe’s lips at the peaceful sight had nothing to do with feeding his belly.  The captain swiftly circled the rabbits until they lay between him and the camp then approached the rabbits growling like a wolf.  The rabbits started at the sound and bolted, a girlish shriek a few moments later made clear the sentry’s discomfort.  Raenwe chuckled as he followed the sound and soon saw the luckless sentry in the vice like grip of the huge slaver.

“ein Kaninchen? Welcher ein bisschen Dummkopf schreit am Anblick eines Kaninchens?”  The huge slaver shook the sentry like a rag doll before hurling him to the ground and stomping back to the camp followed by the trio of other slavers who had also roused at the disturbance.  The sentry lay shaking on the ground for long moments before slowly rising clutching his shoulder in clear pain.  Raenwe hardened his heart at the sight of the pitiful sentry, no mercy for those who embrace darkness and prey on the weak, strength or courage would see them face the darkness, weakness of will or body would see them flee it, to remain willingly within evil’s demesne is to embrace it and forfeit the compassion of the just.  The sentry had only just begun to turn away from the camp to return to his post when Raenwe grabbed the luckless fellow and drew his dirk across the sentry’s throat with a single fluid move.

The sentry collapsed, gasping for breath through the bubbling blood in his throat.  As Raenwe knelt to finish the dying man cleanly, a sudden sound caught him and he looked up to see a third sentry.  The two men looked at each other for a moment frozen in mutual surprise, just as the third sentry seemed about to cry for aid, his body jerked oddly and a blade erupted from his chest.  To Raenwe’s delighted surprise Eldried stepped out of the shadows behind the sentry with a feral grin on his lips.  “Roele’s balls captain!  You look like death warmed over!  Sera be praised that me and the lads were able to catch up with you in time!  I told you to let me come along – I’d never have let the patrol be ambushed like you were back yonder!”

The sentry beneath Raenwe gasped his last, and the captain hurried over to his scout and thumped him on the shoulder in heartfelt welcome.  “ ‘Tis good to see you Eldried, good beyond measure.  The slavers are over yonder – no more than a dozen I warrant”  Eldried nodded “I slew another sentry on the other side of the camp, I doubt they will have more abouts.  Shall we call gather the others and finish this?”  Even as Eldried spoke the other four patrolmen sent back to the village with the goblins freed slaves hurried over.

“They have been following this path some time so it must be clear of danger – but they may have placed some hindrance to the west to deter pursuit.  I say we loose a volley of quarrels then charge from the eastern path – if they flee all the better, they can be slain later and the battle will be all the easier for their absence.”  Raenwe nodded acceptance of the scout’s plan, “be wary in the fray – the leader seems capable and his second is half-ogre or some such – a huge brute.  Colier, you are the best shot of us, stay back and loose your bolts at those who seem most dangerous”

The patrol set out, eager to make their ambush before the dead scouts were noticed.  The camp was quiet as the patrolmen approached, the villagers were tied to stakes hammered into the ground and formed a wide ring around the fire, the slavers huddled within the ring with their backs to the fire, most appeared sleeping and for a moment Raenwe thought their ambush would go smoothly.  “Hinterhalt!”  A slaver shouted, pointing at one of the armsmen behind the bush, Sera’s fickle favour, the swine saw Gavin’s breath in the air!  “Loose and charge!”  The watchful slaver and two sleeping fellows were struck by quarrels a heartbeat later and Raenwe led the charge into the camp.

Raenwe leapt over the ring of slaves and struck down a slaver even as the man tried to free himself from his bed clothes.  A tall slaver swung his blade at the captain but was sent flying as Eldried barrelled into him, the two men disappeared between the bodies of the rousing slaves.   The remaining slavers numbered but four and the patrolmen swiftly matched off against them and began exchanging blows, no sign of their leaders thought Raenwe surprised by the absence, this will be a short fight, indeed in a dozen breaths one slaver fell to Adaere’s blade and even as the first fell the slaver sparring with Elamien staggered as Colier loosed a well placed quarrel into the slaver’s side, the unfortunate slaver fell a moment later as Elamien recovered and thrust his sword into the slaver’s throat.  The last two slavers turned to flee but before they had gone a dozen paces Eldried emerged from between the villagers to strike down one and the villagers tripped the other and pinned him to the ground.

“Hold the fool down well” commanded Raenwe, “men, free the villagers of their bonds.”  The villagers held the last slaver tightly with the man’s own blade at his throat as Raenwe approached and began to question the man.  “Where are the others?   Your life for honest answers to my questions”.  The slavers shook, “sprechen sie Brecht! Ich spreche nicht Anuirean!”  The feel of the knife in his throat freshened the man’s memory of some words of Anuirean and Raenwe repeated “where are your leaders?  The slavers cursed his fate before slumping in the villagers grip “mit dem Meister, er came to claim das Opfer now in case there were more auf sie following – they will be am Altar - zum Norden.”

Raenwe cursed and looked about, the villagers were nearly all freed, including Caelan and Stiele who were already freeing their arms and armour from the slaver's bags of loot and readying themselves for battle again.  Raenwe took back his own blade but scorned the time to put on his plate.  Stiele called to him, “they have Jaedrien and one of the girls from the village, they left just a few minutes ago” Raenwe nodded at the news and the eight patrolmen and four brawny villagers anxious for revenge set off swiftly in the direction indicated by the captive.

The clouds cleared and the moon shone clearly on the snow bringing the landscape to life.  Within moments Eldried pointed triumphantly at some marks “they are having too drag one of the women – and if I am not mistaken the depth of the footprints in the snow says that the other woman is carried.  They’ll not make good time.”  Spirits high the men rushed down the winding trail at a near run.  “I see them!”  Eldried pointed to the distance at four figures near the forest fence.  A roar from one of the figures showed that the patrol had been spotted in turn.  Raenwe shouted a cry and led the rush towards the slavers.  The huge slaver dropped the women he carried to the ground and readied his blade beside the leader of the slavers who tripped the girl he had been dragging and booted her in the stomach to stop her fleeing.  The third figure, swathed in a swirling robe and bearing an ornate helm stood behind and began calling out in a harsh voice, his words carrying in the still air seeming to writhe in the ear as though beholden to some tongue not meant for mortal ears.

A series of soft ‘thumps’ sounded behind Raenwe and he turned to see the rest of the patrol, collapsed in the snow.  Only Eldried rose back to his feet, cursing from having tripped over a villager and fallen in the powdery snow.  “Haelyn aid us, a sorcerer!  Twelve to three or just the two of us, the outcome will be the same! Honour and vengeance!”  Raenwe’s howl was joined by Eldried’s roar and the two men hastened their pace into a full run, eager to be in the fray before the sorcerer could unleash more dweomercraft upon them.

“I will kill you for sure this time priest!”  The brute’s words were confident but the threat bothered Raenwe not at all.  Shunning words that would rob him of breath needed for battle Raenwe let his blade speak for him lunging forward with a sweeping strike.  The brute parried the blow, and with surprising speed lunged back at Raenwe.  He has skill as well as strength thought Raenwe absently watching for an opening and restricting his blows to testing strikes while his breath returned from the swift run.  The sorcerer’s voice reminded him that he could not afford to tarry and Raenwe hastened the pace of his strokes, nicking the brutes face and arms but unable to land a serious blow.

The sorcerer’s voice peaked and the snow beneath Raenwe and the brute both swirled and formed into great tentacles which lashed out hungrily, Raenwe was sent reeling from a blow and remained on his feet only because another tentacle had caught him by the waist.  Ignoring the brute who was, it seemed, equally hampered by the sorcerer’s snow beast, Raenwe concentrated on hacking at the tentacles binding him and dodging the blows of those still flailing for a target.

The sorcerer spoke again and a club of blazing darkness formed in his hand before flying to strike at the captain. Cursing Raenwe ducked as the club swung and then blinked back stars as it caught his helm a resounding blow on the back swing.  The sorcerer’s voice rose again in some unnatural chant but was abruptly drowned out by Eldried’s roar, Raenwe glanced across and saw the slaver captain fallen at the scouts feet, Jadrien’s legs wrapped about the man’s feet and Eldried’s blade in his heart.  The sorcerer dropped his spell in favour of his staff as the scout charged him.

The sorcerer’s staff crackled with golden sparks and with surprising vigour the sorcerer parried the scout’s blows halting the scouts charge and then driving him back.  The two men dueled for long moments before the scout gave the sorcerer a vicious wound to the thigh.  The sorcerer cursed and cried “großer Schatten helfen mir!”  The scout and captain both were hurled back by a wave of black energy from the staff and before they could recover the sorcerer and brute both were gone.

Raenwe groaned and rubbed his aching arms, then hastened to loose the village girl from her bounds.  “Sir!  Are you well?”  Colier’s call as he roused from the spell was as welcome as Jadrien's moan as Eldried untied her, her bonds clearly having been cruelly tight.  “Well done lads, we’ve freed the last of the villagers with this lass, and slain our share of evil these past few days.  The robed fellow and the brute we’ll find and slay some other day, with their wounds - they’ll not bother us again this eve.  For now we’ll return to camp, ‘tis late and we need rest.”

Slowly returning to the camp Raenwe spoke to the villagers who had dared face the darkness with the patrol and soon had their promise of service in the defence of the land.  I lost two thirds my men from the plans of these slavers, to their blades or those of the goblins, I’ll find the robed man - sorcerer or priest whichever he may be – and slay him some day, for assuredly his was the plan that we foiled just at such high cost.  Raenwe sighed contently as his wounds were tended by one of the villagers in the camp, and gave thanks for their success, Haelyn be praised for our victory, the eve is clear and the day coming bright with promise.