Arkobla Conn
Mongoose
This is the continuing adventures of Raz the Cimmerian and his companions Maja, Hadrathus, Belyara, Ajonga & Abaddon.
After leaving the desert of Shem, our heroes travelled north to the border of Ophir. There, playful banter is replaced with silence as the night sky down the road is lit by a far off blaze, the fire obviously in the center of a small town.
Galloping into the center of town, the group found twelve robed men surrounding two wooden posts. Attached to the posts, in various states of disrobe, were two women. Their screams pierced the night air as fire licked at there toes. Attached by shackles to the wall of one nearby building, another woman, nearly naked, also sobbed and fought to free herself. Around the twelve, a few townsfolk looked upon the scene in fear and sorrow. Too many buildings, however, were shut tight for the night, even though it were dusk a mere hour earlier.
Gathering some quick information from a townsmen, the group found that the three women were being burned as witches. The robed men punctuated the scene with ribald curses and jests while Maja, recently recovered, grew angrey and knocked an arrow.
Drawing the fletching to her cheek, she let fly her arrow and it hit its mark. Skillful though the shot was to hit the chain, luck played a large part as the link it hit was weak enough to break. The woman who was writhing about avoiding the flames was startled and off balance when the chain gave free, and she tumbled down the firey pile of wood and landed on the ground smouldering and crying in pain.
No more talk was required. Raz road forward and through the ring of men to stop at the fallen girl. In turn, each of the members of his group engaged the robed men and a grand melee erupted in the town center. As men moved about, an opening in the circle appeared allowing Abaddon to ride to the second post and leap off his horse. Ignoring the flames that spat at him, he unleashed the lass there before returning to his horse. Fending off feeble attacks, he brought her to safety. Nearby, Hadrathus was saving the woman locked to the wall.
Tales as tall as mountains begin with hillocks of truth. In the oncoming battles, our heroes will find themselves outnumbered and flanked. They will find themselves at sever disadvantages and hurt. But there will be success - and upon this success will build there legend. But if legends have a place where they are born, Raz found his birthing spot. As mighty has he has been, he took on a mantle of ferocity unlike anything before. He slew six before the rest of the group in total could take care of 5. One robed man got away in the frey.
Of signifigance was that one of the twelve was a scholar and dealer of magic. As Ajonga was dealing the death blow to this man, the scholar called upon some deadly force known only to him and rocked the square with an explosion. Ajonga fell extremely wounded as the scholar died.
After the battle, the townsfolk hailed them as heroes. 'These twelve have been harrassing us for a ten day!' one said. 'Aye and have been raping our women. These three did naught but refuse to spread their legs I'll warrent - and it was the burning stake for em!' said another.
Taking Ajonga to the Inn, the group slept. In the morning, they found the square still a mess from the previous days fight. Blood, ash and corpses still littered the area. A few of the townsfolk were gathering to begin the clean up, but not wearing faces of remorse or fear. The people were happy - and the songs of a happy town filled the air.
Asking where the Twelve had been staying, they were led to a large manor house. Inside, the group found only a single room that was of interest. Inside, a ring of symbols was etched onto the floor. The local priest did not believe that it was dangerous and stepped within. This would prove his undoing. Tranforming into a hair covered ape. the priest attacked the group. His speed and strength, however, was no match for the mighty blow given to it by Raz. Swinging his axe hard enough to lop off a leg, the beast gave way to the mortal and they saw they had killed the priest. Coming upon them in the moments after, several townsfolk harressed them as killers and remained disquieted until convinced that evil magic had been the blame.
Upon returning to the square, a man rode upon them flying a white flag. He was an emmisary from a bordering army associated with the twelve, although it was not clear who the leader was or which army he represented.
'My lord bids me to inform you that all here are lost. You six may leave' he said pointing to Raz and his group, 'but the death of our brothers requires the sacrifice of everything else in this town. Cutting him down in anger, Hadrathus and Raz tied the head to the saddle and gouged out an eye, replacing it with a note that told the army that they would not be intimidated. Around them, townsfolk wondered if they had been saved by heroes, or damned by Heathens.
In two days, the army would come upon them...and they would find out for sure, then.
After leaving the desert of Shem, our heroes travelled north to the border of Ophir. There, playful banter is replaced with silence as the night sky down the road is lit by a far off blaze, the fire obviously in the center of a small town.
Galloping into the center of town, the group found twelve robed men surrounding two wooden posts. Attached to the posts, in various states of disrobe, were two women. Their screams pierced the night air as fire licked at there toes. Attached by shackles to the wall of one nearby building, another woman, nearly naked, also sobbed and fought to free herself. Around the twelve, a few townsfolk looked upon the scene in fear and sorrow. Too many buildings, however, were shut tight for the night, even though it were dusk a mere hour earlier.
Gathering some quick information from a townsmen, the group found that the three women were being burned as witches. The robed men punctuated the scene with ribald curses and jests while Maja, recently recovered, grew angrey and knocked an arrow.
Drawing the fletching to her cheek, she let fly her arrow and it hit its mark. Skillful though the shot was to hit the chain, luck played a large part as the link it hit was weak enough to break. The woman who was writhing about avoiding the flames was startled and off balance when the chain gave free, and she tumbled down the firey pile of wood and landed on the ground smouldering and crying in pain.
No more talk was required. Raz road forward and through the ring of men to stop at the fallen girl. In turn, each of the members of his group engaged the robed men and a grand melee erupted in the town center. As men moved about, an opening in the circle appeared allowing Abaddon to ride to the second post and leap off his horse. Ignoring the flames that spat at him, he unleashed the lass there before returning to his horse. Fending off feeble attacks, he brought her to safety. Nearby, Hadrathus was saving the woman locked to the wall.
Tales as tall as mountains begin with hillocks of truth. In the oncoming battles, our heroes will find themselves outnumbered and flanked. They will find themselves at sever disadvantages and hurt. But there will be success - and upon this success will build there legend. But if legends have a place where they are born, Raz found his birthing spot. As mighty has he has been, he took on a mantle of ferocity unlike anything before. He slew six before the rest of the group in total could take care of 5. One robed man got away in the frey.
Of signifigance was that one of the twelve was a scholar and dealer of magic. As Ajonga was dealing the death blow to this man, the scholar called upon some deadly force known only to him and rocked the square with an explosion. Ajonga fell extremely wounded as the scholar died.
After the battle, the townsfolk hailed them as heroes. 'These twelve have been harrassing us for a ten day!' one said. 'Aye and have been raping our women. These three did naught but refuse to spread their legs I'll warrent - and it was the burning stake for em!' said another.
Taking Ajonga to the Inn, the group slept. In the morning, they found the square still a mess from the previous days fight. Blood, ash and corpses still littered the area. A few of the townsfolk were gathering to begin the clean up, but not wearing faces of remorse or fear. The people were happy - and the songs of a happy town filled the air.
Asking where the Twelve had been staying, they were led to a large manor house. Inside, the group found only a single room that was of interest. Inside, a ring of symbols was etched onto the floor. The local priest did not believe that it was dangerous and stepped within. This would prove his undoing. Tranforming into a hair covered ape. the priest attacked the group. His speed and strength, however, was no match for the mighty blow given to it by Raz. Swinging his axe hard enough to lop off a leg, the beast gave way to the mortal and they saw they had killed the priest. Coming upon them in the moments after, several townsfolk harressed them as killers and remained disquieted until convinced that evil magic had been the blame.
Upon returning to the square, a man rode upon them flying a white flag. He was an emmisary from a bordering army associated with the twelve, although it was not clear who the leader was or which army he represented.
'My lord bids me to inform you that all here are lost. You six may leave' he said pointing to Raz and his group, 'but the death of our brothers requires the sacrifice of everything else in this town. Cutting him down in anger, Hadrathus and Raz tied the head to the saddle and gouged out an eye, replacing it with a note that told the army that they would not be intimidated. Around them, townsfolk wondered if they had been saved by heroes, or damned by Heathens.
In two days, the army would come upon them...and they would find out for sure, then.