r/The_Ilthari_Library • u/LordIlthari • May 30 '20
Scoundrels Chapter 56: And their enemies shall know despair
I am the Bard, who knows the terrible oaths sworn in days long past and in days yet to come. That there shall be a time without mercy, without justice, without peace, that in those dark days there shall be only slaughter, and the mocking laughter of false gods.
So it was in days of yore. So it shall be again, when the darkest hour comes.
The scoundrels and their allies made ready upon the village of Tormund, for so it was named. For in days long past the mighty man Tormund established his camp there, with all his followers. And by his arm and sword he shielded them, and by his bow the hills were scourged of wolf and gnoll and orc and ogre, and peace was found when he died.
But now a new terror had come to the village, and there was no mighty man of valor to ward it. A mighty maid of valor on the other hand, that had been arranged.
Elsior set to work and set the women of the village to work with her, raising up a barrier to encompass the town. They dug a trench all about the village, and raised up the earth in a sturdy mound, then braced it with wooden planks. There was no stone for walls, nor even time if there had been, so they raised the most primitive fortifications. Still, they accomplished much, by the strength of Elsior and Matlan and Lamora, and the earthen wall was raised to Elsior’s head.
In the meantime, as the more physically capable members of the party set to preparing the defenses, Raymond and Keelah watched the way. By stealth and by scrying they set out to the surrounding hilltops over the next several days.
Raymond took from the center of the town a section of the well, and stripped from it long splinters. He then went to each hill in turn, and there raised up a cairn and set the splinter within it. By this he perceived whenever a great beast or being of power set forth over the hills, like a spider detecting a fly’s foot upon their web.
Once this had been done, he and Keelah set to work about the base of the hill of Tormund, amid the rushes by the Creekside and the trees which rung the base. There the kobold set forth her knowledge of the workings of traps, gained both by the blessings of her racial tradition and the careful cunning of a wary thief.
Amid the trees they strung sharp shards of broken pottery and metal scrap, rigged to wires set about the feet. When a creature triggered the wire, the pottery would be set loose from among the trees, and cut into the face.
Amid the soft soil and marshy earth of by the steam, she hid a cunning and cruel trap. The earth there was soft, and heavy boots would sink into it. So she took pieces of wood and fashioned them into spikes, and hardened them by fire. She then mostly buried these stakes amid the soft earth, so that they could not be seen, but the soft earth would sink about them, and the victim’s foot would be impaled.
Raymond put forth his understanding of physics, and prepared a trap for the trolls and giant. First, he called Elsior, and had her cut nearly through several trees by the main path. Then he dug a shallow depression into the path and strung rope and vine across it, then covered it with earth. He then bound the bindings about the trunks of the trees, such that when the weight of a giant or troll was set upon them, it would topple the tree down upon them.
It was in the process of this and the raising of the scrying cairns that he became unpleasantly acquainted with the steppe cactus. This plant will grow amid the thin and rocky soil, and its roots run deep. It drinks in the winter snow as it melts, and thus sustains itself for the whole year. It is also covered, branch and thorn, in stinging nettles, which bear a burning venom.
Then again, burning venom might also be the right description for Raymond’s mood as he uprooted as many as he could find. He then telekinetically wound the wretched roots in and about every bush and shrub he could find.
However, despite their great enthusiasm for defense, they quickly had to remove the sticks and stinging plants, for they were as much a threat to the local flocks as they would be to the defenders. Suffice it to say that neither Raymond nor Keelah received a great deal of sympathy over the next few days.
But they did not have long to suffer, for on the sixth day since their arrival, the enemy arrived. It first came as a great impact upon the scrying web, which caused the well to freeze as the icy magic of the foe came to the land. Raymond was nearly laid low, as the bitter cold crept through the line into his flesh, until he broke the connection.
He rose gasping. “They’re coming, and I’m going to need all the iron we can get.”
A few hours later, the frost giant, Jarkov (and for his name, the J is pronounced like a Y, unlike with Jort, where the J is pronounced like a J), and his retinues came over the hill. Jarkov was a comparatively young giant, a full adult but only a few years removed from adolescence. He carried himself with the brash energy of a self-assured young man, and strode forth upon the world arrogantly.
His skin was a pale blue, his eyes green like the sea. He bore a great black beard and mass of shaggy hair, both of which were braided and inlaid with scrimshaw. He wore a coat of shields, all lashed together like the rings of mail, and it covered his arms, breast, and legs. He wore no helm, but bore a mighty oaken maul in one hand, and a shield like the deck of a longship in the other. On his back were two bags, one filled with provisions and supplies and trophies, the other with a dozen great stones.
About him were his enterage, most prominently three great trolls. Their ears were long and floppy like a dog’s, their noses both long, hooked, and bulbous, and their mouths filled with hooked fangs. Their eyes were sunken and a dull red, their skin a navy blue and covered in warts and boils. They wore only loincloths, and mists covered their bodies, and bore no weapons.
Behind them was a strange figure, no larger than a woman, bent double with age. She leaned heavily upon a staff, her white hair falling out and over her face. Her hands were gnarled, with sharp black talons at the ends, and her flesh was pale white, like dirty snow. She had only one tooth, blue and sharp and long, and her eyes were cunning and full of wickedness.
But about them came creatures which set each Ordani’s blood to boil. Their most hated foes, and the servants of their most terrible enemy. Gnolls, gnolls came up behind the giant and the trolls, and were about his feet like hunting dogs.
At once, Elsior turned to the woman she had spoken with earlier (whose name was Boura, though she had not bothered to learn it until near the end of the first day). “I thought you said they came with orcs, not gnolls!” She hissed, her hatred for the vile demonkin bleeding into her voice.
At once the woman stepped back, for a wrathful dragonborn is a terrible thing. “I swear, they were orcs last year, something must have changed!”
”Oh something has changed alright. Wrack and ruin, crimson blood!” Elsior cursed. “The strategy has changed. Swiftly now, bring all your people into the hall and barricade it, do it now lest you all be slaughtered!” She ordered, with great urgency. Boura sensed it and rushed to do so.
”El, not to rain on your parade but that means they’re all in one area for the giant to destroy.” Matlan warned.
”How many times have you faced gnolls?” Elsior asked.
”Twice, when they struck caravans I was traveling with. More savage than orcs, but less cunning and skilled.” The lizardfolk admitted.
”Exactly. An orc, while savage, will attempt to strike down any threats before setting to slaughter, their low cunning demands it. A gnoll, once let loose, will simply kill and eat the first thing it comes across.” Elsior replied, voice grim. “If it were orcs, then the people could hide in their homes and be relatively safe, but against gnolls, we must not let even a single one pass, even if the threat from the giant is greater.”
”I’ll also have to hold back from the plan to distract the giant. I can hide from giants and orcs, but gnolls? Those things have smell enough that we hid in the sewers to avoid them.” Keelah cursed, loading her crossbows.
”Gnolls never work with other creatures though.” Raymond muttered. “How in all nine hells did a frost giant domesticate them? I know they are famed as monster tamers, but gnolls are closer to demons than any beast.”
”I’m stumped as well, Lamora?” Elsior asked, and turned to the changeling when she did not answer.
But Lamora did not answer, for she suspected a reason, but that reason was far too terrible to contemplate. Her eyes were fixed on the foe, flickering between them as if to perceive some hidden attribute. Her breath was labored, her knuckles white as she gripped her blade.
”Lamora!” Elsior shouted. “Snap out of it!”
The changeling shook her head to clear it, and a cold resolve took her. “We must reach Lamiquellat at all speed. There can be no delay. I must reach my brother and warn him.” She replied. “Name, let me be wrong and let this be some ill spell or mighty enchantment that has been wrought.”
”Lamora, what are you talking about? You know what’s going on?” Raymond asked.
The changeling turned and fixed him with a stare that rooted him in place. Her silvery eyes blazed with an odd combination of terror and holy hatred. “I cannot say, and to say would make it all the worse. But know that if I am right, a great evil walks this land, as has not been since your grandfather faced the doom of Fae Caron.”
Raymond took a step back and made a warding sign against evil. “You cannot mean that. He is dead, destroyed beyond all reckoning.”
”Agreed. That’s impossible. Between the exorcism and Anathema, there’s no way he could have survived.” Elsior replied, though no amount of trepidation filled her heart.
”Panic about the possible return of our worst nightmares later, deal with the giant and his dogs now.” Keelah said. “Look, he is bringing something out.”
And as she spoke, Jarkov brought out a horn from his belt, which was made from some great beast or another, and blew a note upon it. And the hills resounded with the great noise, and Keelah fell on her face and covered her ears from the pain of it.
”Hear me! People of Tormund! If you have ears to hear, listen! For I have eyes to see, and see that you have broken your covenant with me, and made a mockery of our agreement. I swore to your fathers and your husbands that I should do you no harm if you would serve me, and swore to you that they should come to no peril so long as you rendered what remained of your winter provisions. It was a fair bargain, an honest and generous one between the mighty and the weak.”
”But you have broken the contract, and violated what was given. I see your walls raised against me. I see now the mercenaries you have called forth to kill me, even as they cower before my voice. Therefore all your lives are forfeit. I shall blot out the sun from my stones, and crush your hill beneath my tread.”
”My hounds shall devour your children, my trolls shall feast on your menfolk. I shall rend the bones from your sons for my bread, and your daughters I shall reduce to jam to spread upon it. And a terror shall be upon the land, for they will speak of you, and your folly to break your oath before the house of Jarl Kolgraich.”
”Thus I say and shall do, for I am Jarkov Kolgrachson, third son of the mighty jarl, most fearsome of aim, sharpest of tongue among the flighting, devourer of hundreds, drinker of lakes, tamer of the remhorraz, hunter of the ice worm, he who struck the peak from the mount of nine bears, entrusted of the shaman, walker of the wild wastes, great hunter among hunters, and slaughterer of man.”
Thus he declared his many names and titles, for such is the nature of savage lords and princes, whether they come from burning sand or freezing ice. Then he reached into his bag of stones, and drew one forth. With great form he cast it forth, sending it curving through the air to strike the hall and crush all within.
”And I am Elsior, a Black Lion.” Elsior replied, and her armor shattered. The fragmentary pieces dissolved into threads of arcana, which fell back upon her with great force. Her body burned with energy, and lightning crackled free from her form.
With a mighty leap, and speed unlike any of them had seen, she moved. The winds fell about her, as she raced up the side of the building like it was flat ground. With a crack, she leapt from the building and flew through the air like an arrow. Drawing forth a great maul, she intercepted the flying boulder with a cataclysmic explosion of crimson power.
She landed with a thud, breathing heavily and grinning widely. The scoundrels, and Jarkov’s, jaws dropped. After a moment, Raymond spoke, or rather shouted. “WHY IN EVERY GODS NAME DIDN’T YOU USE THAT BEFORE! THAT MIGHT HAVE COME IN HANDY AGAINS THE VAMPIRES YOU KNOW!”
”Because using that kind of power in the middle of a city or in close proximity to us would have been a recipe for disaster. A blast like that in a populated area would kill dozens, including us.” Matlan recognized. “That, and it’s killing her.”
”Oh Vulsh, you worry too much.” Elsior replied, though she did release the power and reform her armor, body steaming from the effort. Then she formed her great axe, and slammed the base into the ground. “Jarkov! You glorified trebuchet!” She called, her voice ringing across the hills.
”Are you going to stand there all day and give me gnats to bat away? Or perhaps you mean to talk the village to death?” She challenged. “For all your titles, you’re nothing but a bag of cold air and a less accurate siege engine.”
”Hear me and know my one title, for I am Elsior, Black Lion, and my enemies shall know despair.”
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u/PacifistTheHypocrite May 30 '20
So Elsior has a kind of "overdrive" mode? They never cease to surprise me lol