Stumbling through the Swordcoast
Bouyed by their recent swift dispatch of Hu-Jat’s drake and Krayd in her lair, Lucan felt he and his companions were done. Walking out the front gate with Hu-Jat’s head on a pike to warn off any would-be attackers didn’t seem a bad plan. That was, until they came upon the Severed Eyes.
Of course they had been warned about another band of mercenaries in search of the Stone, but this tidbit had been conveniently forgotten by the group.
When the orcs appeared from the bushes Lucan was barely ready. A couple of the orcs bided their time as the melee began. Lucan ran for cover, and started to force his mind into that of his foes. He was getting good at this trick now, although the past couple of days had left him drained and he was not as effective as he once was.
As the orcs descended on the group Lucan felt a disturbance. He looked across the road at an orc covered in talismans and shaking a gourd. Before he could yell to his companions Lucan felt the shaman’s thought, and an instant later saw the wolf spirit tearing viciously through each of his comrades. The wolf knocked down his friends and disappeared after taking a final bite out of Lucan.
Now the orcs were laying into the adventurers. Vul shot his arrows clean and true, some disappearing in their targets all the way up to the flight. The orcs started to separate the group. As their leader and two thugs moved in close Lucan reached within their feeble minds and wrenched out their thoughts, tearing out memories of how to swing a blade.
As the orcs cornered Lucan in his hiding place he tried to evade their blows. The scrub hindered his movement but Lucan knew where he wanted to be. Lucan focussed his energy. As he began to step the world around him flickered and he was transported to the other side of the bush. He looked over at the Orc pulling his mace out of the dirt with a confused expression over where the skinny smooth skin went.
Preoccupied with his own situation, Lucan had failed to see the grave danger Fargrim faced. Face down in the mud, with blood gushing from his side it was a grim sight on the far side of the battle. Seraphina was too far to reach Fargrim and only Nathaniel had any hope of getting there in time. Blocked by a large Orc, Nathaniel needed aid. Lucan drew a breath and entered the orc’s consciousness. Feeling the pillars of the orc’s life force Lucan thrust his own mind into the orc’s. The orc suddenly stumbled, dropped his morning star and grabbed and his head. As he pushed through the pain he looked up at Nathaniel who destroyed him with a blast of sound before running to Fargrim’s aid.
Finally the attackers were dispatched, one by one. The shaman the last to go fought to the bitter end, shooting lightning every direction before being ended by a precision shot from Vul’s bow. As the final arrow pierced her neck, the shaman screeched in pain and lashed out at the nearest foe. The blow struck home and inflicted a terrible wound on the side of the building before the shaman finally collapsed and all was quiet.
Lucan looked at his fellow defenders and saw from the blood Fargrim and Seraphina now cleaned from their weapons that there had been a lot more to this skirmish than he had seen.
Picking up the impaled head of Hu-Jat once more, the unlikely band trudged forward to the main gate, although now with a little more trepidation.