Monday, May 27, 2013

Tales from Year's End (Dretch Lane and Blackstaff)

“How many are left Sargent Granitethews?” The Gunslinger asked.


Sargent Kergitta Granitethews is renowned throughout the Trades Ward for her spirited approach to civil obedience: singing at the top of her lungs at beginning of her shift at Virgins Square she would make her patrols singing out as a warning to law-breakers that Kergitta was on duty and that no quarter will be given if criminal minds were discovered. The Year’s End siege brought her and her own ka-tet from the Trades under the command of two Firelance Gunslingers.

“After the initial wyvern attack Sai…” the dwarf had annoying habit of thinking out loud, a trait Brenton Durinbold could have done without, “and the sudden rise of the dead- some of them our own fallen comrades ye kin… six Sir. Also, our prisoners are asking to be allowed to defend themselves we lost one of them as well.”

“They are?” Brenton said in mock regard to their dilemma. “Should I just return their weapons too Sargent?”

Kergitta was defenseless to Brenton’s authority and remained silent.

A woman’s voice, fine like waves upon the shore broke the silence, “Sai Duringbold please, we lost three good men because we took on your prisoners; the drow are slowing us down.” 

Brenton did not care to be shown his mistakes, especially in front of city guard. How he craved to strangle life out of Tryssia Lanngolyn, but not before he had is fun with her first.

Seeing the way Brenton looked at her, Tryssia looked back to the Sargent. “Free them but only allow them small simple clubs, nothing they can cause trouble with.”

“Aye at once Sai Lanngolyn!” Kergitta said as she pistoned herself into movement.

“Hold.”

Sargent Granitethews stopped in her tracks; gods she could not wait for this day to end!

“Only free one of them he is charged with leading the other three and I want one guard posted to that prisoner.” He offered Tryssia a sly look of victory. “One is easier to bring down if there is any treachery.”

"Make it happen."

“At once.” The dwarf said.

“Free the one who calls himself Domarlynnas, he was injured earlier; he will do fine.”


“Give the order to fall back to Dretch Lane, we will commandeer healing supplies and refresh our numbers.”

The command was given and Brenton, Tryssia, Kergitta, the six remaining guards and four drow converged on the northern most end of Dretch Lane. Ten nondescript buildings sat in a defensive cavity along Mount Waterdeep at the end of Dretch Lane, two hundred foot cliffs surround the north, east, and west protecting the secret contents of these ten regular buildings.

Approaching from the south, the two Gunslingers felt an uneasy element thick in the air; the smell of rot was so pervasive it clung to their nose like a vice. The drow seemed to bear the worst of it- retching, wailing and speaking in painful tones like nails across slate. “don Maer! don Maer!”

“Shut your kin.” Brenton commanded the drow. Then one by one each of the buildings collapsed under the weight of eight huge blue spiders each the size of an elephant with razor edged front claws.


Firing four times from the hip Brenton commanded everyone to concentrate their resources on one spider at a time. One guard had the unfortunate honor of discovering the horrific rotting effects of the spider’s bite; another guard had is armor flayed from is body. There was something familiar about the spiders and what the drow were saying.


A bright flash of light turned night over Waterdeep into hell on earth; searing lances of light shot down from the sky reducing for of the horrible spiders to embers. It was Khelben Arunson riding his Ki-rin, in all his magical glory to save Waterdeep from its laissez faire stance on warfare... Brenton was not amused. 

“Only three spiders left! ADVANCE!” Tryssia commanded as she lifted her deadly calibers to the remaining rot spiders. As she did a figure along top of the cliff caught her attention fast. In the flashes of magical energies Tryssia could make out an emaciated humanoid figure of evil countenance.

“Look out!” She screamed out to Blackstaff.

Brenton looked up in time to see why this all was familiar to him and what the drow were screaming in discourse, it was Moander standing like a skeletal giant and with a single leap Moander fell upon the unsuspecting Blackstaff battering the mage with bone fists all the way until they each hit the stone streets some blocks away.









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