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Reforged pt 17

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The scouts the group met along the road had been correct in their assessment when it came to the roads and snow. The going wasn't as difficult as going cross-country but the accumulated drifts on the path didn't exactly make it easy. It took some time but they finally arrived at the gates of Draven in the early afternoon. The guards at the gateway were just as casual in letting the party pass as the counts had been, allowing them entry into the city so long as everyone behaved.

Arthur had been to Draven a few times back when he had first started in the militia. Keeping the roads safe occasionally resulted in trips across country to the neighboring city and each time he'd visited it was astounded at just how large it was. Then again, it had been almost twenty years and in that time the city had grown even more; what had already been large to him had become in the decades since.

Heartbridge buildings were usually one story but there were a good number of two story buildings and even a few three story, but in Draven it seemed that two and three story buildings were the norm. The city 'grew' as the party walked further toward the center, which appeared to host some four, and even a few five story structures. Although he didn't object to his sons staring wide-eyed around he made sure to keep his attention focused; just because they were in a walled city didn't mean they were safe.

Peter remained at his side as they walked straight down the street. After a few blocks the Minotaur leaned over, speaking quietly as they went "There are so many side streets, Father... I can imagine it easy to get lost. Do you know where we need to go?"

Orvig, who was standing right beside the blacksmith apparently overheard the question. Turning to the Peter, the Orc answered "Sir Wasker's castle is straight up this street. The next large intersection is Market Square and after that is Castle Square."

Both squares were passingly familiar to Arthur, but they were two of three squares the group traversed; there was half-moon of a curved street directly within the walls that hadn't existed when he'd last visited Draven called Traveler's Square. He'd heard rumors that Draven had gained the attention of the Adventurer's Union so he wasn't completely surprised to find an Adventuring Guild Hall occupying one of the prime spots in the square but it wasn't particularly pertinent to their task and so he filed away that information for later.

Harold had his cloak's hood pulled up around his head, ears making little cloth tents as he strode up to walk in file right behind Arthur. "There are so many people here... this place is so large."

Lucas, who clung to the Gnoll's back piped in "Every place is big to me."

His elder brother didn't even miss a beat. "That's 'cause you're a Kobold and you're so small, L."

Peter was keeping an eye on their surroundings but he was perceptive enough to realize that bickering was about to begin. "Behave."

They continued silently along the road for several more blocks, all the while Arthur kept an eye on side streets and alleys. There were a good number of people on the main avenue but other than a few haphazard glances was an absence of outward signs of problems. Mumbled insults and outright sneers of disgust that were so common in Hearthbridge were conspicuously missing and, on a few occasions some passers by proactively tipped caps or, in one case, even offered a welcoming smile. That woman's little boy actually rose a hand and wave his fingers at Harold, followed by pointing as he tugged at his mom's sleeve, declaring "Doggy!"

Lucas' maw immediately split wide into the largest smile ever but, just as he was about to speak, both Peter and Harold interrupted him the same time with the same two words simultaneously. "No, Lucas."

It was readily obvious by the time they reached the Market Square that Draven was far more open-minded than Hearthbridge, but not showing aggression and distain toward humanoids was far from the entirety of it. In Hearthbridge the vast majority of the town were Humans with only a few half elves and halflings, and two gnome families. Everywhere Arthur looked in Draven he caught sight of at least one demi-human-- mostly elves and some dwarves, but there were plenty of gnomes and halflings as well. Not only that, however, he also noticed more a small band of hobgoblins and a group bugbears... but no orcs.

Orvig was apparently just as perceptive. "Most human settlements don't respond well to Orc bands... if the tribe's chieftain an Lurnah are here they'd be attracting a crowd."

Lucas hopped off of Harold's back. "Well... if they're THAT obvious..."

Arthur was about to question his youngest son but the Kobold skittered off quickly before he could, shuffling up to a market stall. "Hey... old guy... you seen any orcs come through this way today?"

The man attending the street shop looked down at Lucas; although he looked no more than a handful of years older than Arthur, the merchant didn't object to Lucas' hail. Instead, he smiled warmly. "Of course, little master Kobold. The Chieftain of the Eastern Tribe himself, and a collection of his warriors."

Arthur redirected his next steps so he could join his scaled son at the stall. "Do you know how long ago, sir?"

The merchant chewed on his cheek in thought before replying "Oh... I'd say maybe fifteen or twenty minutes at the most. They were heading for the castle. Makes sense though... Lord Wasker's men declared something about an emissary coming today."

Everyone within the group glanced to one another; there was no reason for any words to be shared at that point. Lucas hopped back up onto Harold's back and they all turned back toward the road, hustling on their way toward the castle. Peter, however, lingered just long enough to offer a "Thank you for your help, sir." before following after his family.

Although Arthur led everyone at a quick pace through the city it was readily apparent that Faelyn was barely keeping pace. Slowing slightly and letting Orvig take the lead, the blacksmith waited until he could walk beside the Tabashi. "What's going on? Are you alright, Faelyn?"

The cat man scowled, shoulders hunched as he stared straight ahead. "I do not feel comfortable in cities. I'll be glad when we can be away from here."

The Human nodded. "As soon as we can make sure that everyone is alright we will. We can't let Maeryk cause problems for Draven."

Faelyn flicked his tail. "I know... but that does not mean I have to like it."

Arthur could have left things there but he was concerned for the young Druid's mental state. "Let me know if I can help."

Faelyn acknowledged the offer with a simple "Thank you. I will."

While the blacksmith was concerned with the prospect of the Orcs beating them to Draven he was relieved when, upon approach to the castle he saw that the guards outside were posted without any apparent disruption. Arthur took his position at the front of the party before saying "We have business with Sir Wasker."

The guardsman on the left spoke. "State your business."

The Human was to-the-point and kept the announcement both simple and direct. "We're from Heathbridge. The town was sacked and we think that the party responsible is headed this way."

The second guard interjected. "Sir Wasker is meeting with a diplomat from the Orcish Northern Tribes. You'll have to wait."

Orvig stepped forward. "Of course. The lord's time is valuable. Is it possible to wait inside the keep? We've been traveling for some time and my orcish eyes don't take too kindly to the sun."

It was afternoon and the sun was nowhere near as bad as it had been earlier in the day but, fortunately, the guards didn't seem to have any reason to object. The first guard thumbed over his shoulder. "You can go into the man hall. There are chairs available. You can wait there until the page summons you to enter the meeting hall."

Lucas opened up his maw to say something but Peter quickly snapped a hand down over it. "Thank you, Sirs. We'll do just that."

He didn't remove his grip until the group was well past the gate but, once he did, the Kobold objected. "Hey! If Maeryk really does plan to do something here we don't have the time to sit and wait!"

Harold rolled his eyes, reaching out to bop his younger brother on the tip of his snout. "No duh! Once we're inside I'll scout the place and find out if there's any information worth discovering. If those Orcs really are under that wizard's contro-- holy fuck!"

Arthur came to a stop just as Harold made his declaration. Peter, two steps behind interjected "Language Har--- oh... what in the name of Hieroneous?"

The party had entered through the building's main doors, which stood open in welcome fashion, but that was the only thing welcoming about the structure. Inside there were a half dozen guards, all standing at attention, but not out of duty: they were encased in crystal blocks. Orvig scowled at the site "We may already be too late."

Peter stepped past the front ranks and looked around the entryway. "Where is the meeting room? Does anyone know?"

Arthur pointed toward the large double doors at the far end of the room. "There."

Wasting no time, Peter stormed straight to them, lifting his leg, and planting his hoof right at the seam where they touched; the doors flew open, revealing a throne room beyond. The rest of the party followed right after him, forming up just inside the doors as they all paused to take in the scene. Arthur was immediately concerned.

The party of six stood just within the throne room of Draven Castle. The enormous room was easily forty foot wide and at least twice that long, suitable for a grand meeting of courtiers, advisors, and guests, but it was very nearly empty. Six columns were interspersed around the room to provide support for the vaulted ceiling which was spread out some twenty or thirty foot overhead. What was most concerning was that, in front of each column six guards stood completely immobilized just like the ones in the waiting room. Worse yet, Sir Wasker stood before his throne along with two personal guards and they were just as encased.

Four orcs had taken up position in front of the ring of stairs that led up to the throne but, most troubling of all was the fifth, a female who was chanting in front of a large circle of glowing light inscribed upon the floor. Although Arthur couldn't get a clear view of from such a far distance he could see several arcane runes inscribed around it and one of them was glowing brightly. As he watched, a second blazed to life.

Standing to Arthur's left, Harold drew his axe and hammer. "Keep things close and personal... can't risk hitting the lord guy, right?"

Orvig raised a gauntleted hand. "Hold... we do not yet have full stock of the situation. We cannot be certain that--"

The knight's statement was cut short when one of the Orcs, an older looking veteran with features similar to the young chief of the Eastern Tribe pulled a black iron javelin out of a quiver at his back... and threw it. The metal lance exploded in a shower of sparks and the party was required to dive aside to avoid being struck by the resulting lightning bolt that arced across the room in their direction.

Lucas, who sprang off of Peter's shoulders countered Orvig's assessment. "That's a summoning circle tied to the lower planes, and that was an attack. I think we can pretty damn well be certain that."

The way the Kobold spontaneously ended his statement gave Arthur the impression that Lucas was making a point. It was lost however when Peter declared "Stop profaning."

No longer delaying, Orvig wasted no time, charging into the room as he drew his sword, calling back "That is her by the circle... the wizard MUST be controlling her!"

Arthur followed suit, but he favored pulling his shield out first, assessing the situation as he took a slower approach toward the throne. The four Orcs standing between the party and the far side of the room looked to be battle-ready and more than a casual challenge. Worse yet, they all had vacant expressions and, despite knowing little about magic, the blacksmith had little doubt that they were puppets for the wizard. "Be careful. Stick together and work to get past them. The circle is our goal!"

The Orc on the far left, closest to the circle raised his falchion and his empty hand, which glowed with power. He shouted out something in Orcish and the four of them glowed faintly with power. A moment later the one to that Orc's right, a large, burly fellow covered in black wolf hide and wielding two metal punching claws charged Orvig.

The knight and the claw-wielding Orc clashed. Although Orvig did a fine job of parrying with his sword it was hardly as effective as a shield and he took a blow, the jagged blades of one claw drawing a gash across the underside of one forearm where his armor did not protect. Even as Orvig fell back, however, a glowing green arrow slammed into the other Orc, sending him stumbling back as smoke began to rise from his shoulder.

The chieftain in the meantime roared out a wordless a challenge, gnashing his teeth as he charged Orvig. The older Orc's massive great club swung around in a powerful arc, knocking Orvig's parry aside and coming down hard on the knight's shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Orvig shrugged violently and even from several feet away Arthur could hear the sound of the bone popping back into place; Orvig was injured, but still combat-ready. He took up a combat stance, awaiting the next aggressor.

Behind him, Arthur heard Faelyn speak words of power, followed by a simple statement "You are empowered for a short time... you've been imbued with nature's strength... make the most of it, bull."

Moving closer to assist Orvig, Arthur rushed up to aid him as the third Orc, a broad-shouldered warrior wielding a great axe charged. Weapon leading the way, the warrior brought it down with an overhead chop. Orvig attempted to sidestep but wasn't moving quite fast enough, taking the blow to his pauldron. The metal plate protecting his shoulder popped free and blood sprayed freely from the cut, but the knight didn't so much as cry out in pain, choosing instead to twist his body and lock the Orc's blade between his armored plates.

With his axe stuck, the other Orc was left as an open target for Peter, who had lowered his head and charged. The Orc, in a foolish or perhaps suicidal move maintained hold of his weapon as the Minotaur slammed right into him. Peter slammed into him solidly, picking the Orc up off the ground entirely and launching him back several feet. The axe man somehow managed to land on his feet and, Arthur noticed, the impact had knocked his axe loose, allowing him to be ready to attack again.

Arthur quickly called to Harold to shore up the battle line and the Gnoll obediently stepped in, axe and hammer leading the way to support Orvig. Both weapons found their target, the former cutting into the claw-wielding Orc's hip while the hammer slammed into his jaw; despite a momentary dazed expression the Orc didn't so much as slow, as if the pain meant nothing to him which, Arthur reminded himself, could very well have been true if Maeryk was controlling him. The thought gave him a moment's pause. "Try not to kill anyone boys... they don't mean to harm us."

Orvig pulled his shield loose, setting his injured arm into it to help support his stance. "We must stop them at any cost but, agreed-- unless absolutely necessary, kill no one."

Arthur stood up to lock shields with the knight, drawing his sword and forcing the chieftain backwards with a warding strike. Rather than falling back, however, the older Orc took the blow on the forearm. Peter, who stood on the other side of Orvig simply murmured "Hieroneous preserve us."

Lucas shouted from behind the front line. "Peter! Focus! There's magic at work here and I don't want you zoning out!"

Harold stepped up beside Arthur, interposing himself between the clawed Orc and his father. "Dad, you really shouldn't be up here. It's not safe for--"

The Gnoll's warning, the blacksmith noted, would have better been served for his son who, for his trouble, took several ravaging strikes from the Orc, leaving his armor torn and his torso bloodied. Arthur saw that the Orc's shoulder was still burning from Lucas' magical acid, but the Orc paid it no attention, single-mindedly assaulting the human's family. He was starting to worry that there would be no way to safely disengage.

The sound of Lucas' words of power from behind was enough for Arthur and Harold to duck down in preparation for whatever the Kobold had planned but, instead, another surge of greenish energy arced over then, aimed straight for the arcane circle; it disintegrated in midair, vaporized by a soft purple glow before it could reach its target. Lucas cursed "There's a barrier protecting the area around the throne! My spells won't reach that far!"

Orvig used his shield to bash the axe-wielding Orc back as he shouted to the Kobold "Lucas, give your family some back up and let me worry about Lurnah!"

Arthur used the space cleared by Orvig to push the line forward, but the savagery with which the Chieftain responded was entirely unexpected. Repeated bashes from the Orc's great club forced Arthur's shield down then slammed past his hammer, catching him in the head. The blacksmith was certain that turning his body at the last minute was the only thing that kept it rom taking his head clean off his shoulders, turning it into a glancing blow instead but still leaving him dazed.

Peter responded immediately "NO!"

In one fell swoop the Minotaur was there, hoisting the Orc chieftain off the ground in a display of supernatural strength; Arthur recalled that Faelyn had empowered Peter, and seeing the results was more than a little intimidating.

The Druid stepped closer and Arthur felt a warm breeze flow through him as his vision turned green for a split second; his wounds felt less painful, and, before his eyes, the bleeding began to abate. Even Peter, he observed, appeared to be affected positively by whatever Faelyn had done but, as Arthur watched, a powerful pulse of energy flowed through the front lines in tandem with a powerful shout from Lucas.

Little 'pops' of energy flashed as whatever magical enchantment put on the orcs by their shaman came to an end, but, at the same time, so to did Faelyn's empowerment of Peter, and he lost his grip on the Orc Chieftain. Faelyn sneered. "Well, that was helpful."

Lucas was not the least bit apologetic. "At least the orcs lost their empowerments!"

Suddenly free of Peter's grip, the chief attacked Arthur again. The blacksmith was put on the defensive as the older Orc lashed out multiple times from multiple angles, so quick an so powerfully that the Human was only able to block one strike. The second caught him in the abdomen and the third dug deep into his leg, causing him to fall to one knee; when Arthur coughed up a spray of blood he realized that his wounds were not superficial.

Around him he heard the panicked cries of both Harold and Peter, but the blacksmith croaked out "Focus. I'm... I'm fine."

Faelyn's voice spoke up from behind him. "No you're not... yet."

The Tabashi murmured several words in the strange language of the Druids and, a moment later, the Human felt a warm paw rest on his shoulder. A cooling breeze flowed through him, soothing his wounds and closing them immediately.

Seizing the opportunity attack, the axe-wielding Orc stepped forward to strike Arthur but Peter interposed himself. The Orc and Minotaur exchanged several blows, leaving Peter stumbling away, shield lowered so he could hold a huge gash in his abdomen closed with his hand. Faelyn let out a hiss "Can you fools stop getting yourself torn apart? I can't heal all of you at once!"

Peter let out a growl, straightening up as he waded back into combat. "Working on it!"

The Minotaur lashed out, both hits finding their target and causing the axe-wielder to stumble back, put off-balance as one of the strikes cut his thigh down to the bone. There wasn't much time to celebrate however as Lucas shouted from the back "The ritual! There's only three runes left!"

Hazarding a glance toward the circle, Arthur saw that Lucas was right; Lurnah was continuing her chanting and five of the eight runes were glowing brightly. To his side, Peter continued favoring his wounded abdomen as he huffed "We need to stop that somehow. Harold... can you get to her?"

Sidestepping the main combat line of the three Orcs, the Gnoll charged toward Lurnah. "I'm on it!"

He was intercepted by the shaman, however, who remained back to support the ritual. Harold brought his attacks to bear on the new target, striking the older Orc once with each weapon. The blows caused his opponent to stumble, but the worst of the blows were absorbed by the Orc's thick leather armor.

Arthur realized that Harold was no closer to resolving the issue. "Lucas? Can you clear the way?"

The Kobold shouted out "Hells yes! I'm asking for forgiveness later. Anyone who doesn't want to die, get out of the way!"

Peter bashed at the axe-wielding Orc. "Lucas, lang--"

The Kobold interjected as he began digging around in his spell component pouch. "Yeah, yeah. Language. I fucking know already!"

Arthur, Peter, and Orvig maintained the front line, each trading blows with the Orcs as they tried to push their opponents back. Both paladins managed to land a few hits but the blacksmith was forced to go on the defensive, protecting himself from the chieftain's powerful blows or risk becoming incapacitated.

Another series of blows were exchanged and in the next furious clash Orvig was struck again, grievously. The green skinned knight cried out, falling back as his sword fell from his hand, blood gushing from a wound on his chest. Arthur cried out "We need help here!"

Harold, who was still trying to fight off the shaman and get past to Lurnah was in no position to provide aid. He barked back to his youngest brother "Lucas! Now'd be a great time for a fireball!"

The Kobold's response was preceded by an almost maniacal cackle of glee. "You don't even need to ask."

It was then proceeded by the loud pop of air being sucked into a sudden conflagration, and then the roar of an inferno as a ball of flame rocketed across the room, landing a good distance behind the front line of the Orcs, but exploding with such ferocity that it consumed them entirely, leaving Arthur's face tender from the heat, and resulting in plenty of scorched strands of fur on Peter.

The Orcs fared much worse, two of them completely incinerated. Orvig, from his place on the floor, moaned out in objection. "The... guards...."

Arthur looked up, aghast at what he saw: just as Orvig had indicated, the two guardsmen who were frozen in place in front of the two closest pillars were reduced to charred skeletons. The blacksmith winced, but had no time to regret his son's actions as the chief, who weathered the blast, attacked him with renewed fervor. Ready for it, the Human managed to block the worst of it with his shield, though the blows were so powerful his arm began to grow numb.

Fortunately it provided enough time for Faelyn to get to Orvig and the moment the Tabashi got his hands on the knight his wounds began to close immediately. In the meantime, Peter supported his father, lashing out at the chieftain and striking him with a glancing blow from his axe. It was progress but, Arthur realized, the going was far too slow: another rune burst into light around the circle, meaning they were running out of time.