The Story of The Stave: Chapter one

Remove all ads!

@Shrikanth: Thanx! When will we see YOUR contribution?!

 

Come on you guys, this story is great, please continue it.

 

(ooC Ok i've read through the rest of the story (both parts) and here is my contribution, i hope it's ok)

---------------------------------------------

The goblin forces that had already torn Tarsk apart once were now engaged in that activity once more. Smashing and crashing through the ruins searching for those that had poured the foul fire down upon them. Those that had it had hit were burnt to a cinder and their screams of anguish had only lured more goblins to the same fate, as they rushed to their aid of their blood kin.

They had clashed with the men, those with their shiny shells and their proud faces – proud until their faces were ripped apart by the tide of the goblin power, in that slaughter of men many goblins had been slain, but to die in the midst of a battle is glorious, the death that their ancestors had died as they disembowelled their foes.

But for good goblins to be killed by a sneaky trap, by unseen attackers? There is no honour in men, yet they still think they are higher than us? They are maggots to the mighty goblins!

Their would be much feasting on human flesh when those sneaky, honour-less worms were caught and ripped apart. Just thinking of the moment when they would catch them and burn them as they had burnt goblin folk, just the thought of their screams and pleading for mercy made Snarskall drool.

He licked his lips and shouted to a group of goblins, “The worms are cowards! They have fled from us! Fear us! So they should” he tightened his grip on his cleaver-like weapon that he clutched in a blood stained hand – human blood. “Tarsk could not stand the might of the goblins! None can! We are the goblins! Nothing can stop us!” He had the full attention of every goblin and with every word he was driving them into a rage, a rage which he could use to bring down the just, and swift, vengeance. His orders could wait, this was goblin pride!

Snarskall surveyed his horde of goblins, it almost brought a tear to his eye, not that it would have shown behind his bone hewn mask. It was the sort of horde that his ancestors would have been proud to see, when goblins had their rightful place in the world, and when men were still weak without their shiny shells – but these shells will not last forever, he thought, and then we shall rule again! Looking out at his horde of he yelled his order, “Into the forest!”

(in the goblin language the word ‘forest’ literally translates to ‘Many trees’ and so means anything from a small copse up to the huge woods with trees so tall as to blot out the very sky)

The horde turned, not as one, for organised movement, and organisation in general, is not a common goblin trait. So the horde of green, grey, brown, and in a few cases night black, skinned goblins turned like a huge number of creatures all hell bent on killing things that lay in yonder direction. For Snarskall it was a truly breathtaking spectacle, and he knew in his heart, as his father, and his father before him, and even further back, that the goblins were the gods chosen race. With screams and howls matching those of his kin he joined the ebbing and flowing ranks of the horde, his horde, as the goblins strode, ran, charged, and lumbered towards the forest.

[ July 13, 2003, 22:54: Message edited by: Lazy Bonzo ]

 

Damn, but I like the way you write! Glad you could join our little band.

 

Thanks! Also thanks for your PM or I would never have even read through the parts, seeing as I'm not all that big a fan of fantasy writing, i like some and luckily this is the sort i like (it has very believable characters in). My only question is: after Lefkl (sp?) put the ring onto the stave, after the others tried to stop him, the ground vibrates and then it appears that they just go 'ok Lefkl we were going to try to kill you for that but now we'll just let you continue with us oh mighty sorcerer". Or were they only trying to stop him because they thought he was trying to steal the stave? If it is this then I understand I just got a bit confused.

 

My thought was that Lefkl felt the power in the ring, had an idea, and didn't want to waste time explaining. Illith'Hen reaction was due to being protective of the staff, kind of like Frodo and the One Ring. I was trying to convey that they don't yet understand what the thing does, and that what Lefkl did increased its power.

 

ooC: Ok I'm working on the goblins finding/attacking the party so if anyone posts before me all i ask is that:

The goblins do not attack yet.
The party don't leave the forest/wood/trees yet (the goblins attack is a surprise because the trees covered their movements).

 

fair enough, lazy Bonzo. tell me when you've started the fight, i have an idea! By the by, good contribution.

 

ooC: Ok the fight hasn't happened yet, i'm thinking they go on a little further then the goblins catch up and attack. I will write it where after they attack someone else can write the details of the fight. Ok here's what I just wrote. Sorry Rallymama if it's not quite up to the same level as your romantic part.

------------------------------------

Callain awoke from a dream and blinked blearily. He looked around the small clearing that they had pitched camp. Though there wasn’t enough light for human eyes to have seen anything other than vague suggestions of shapes, the towering shapes trees that surrounded the clearing and penned them in on all sides, the pile of ash and unburnt wood which was all that remained of the fire, and between the trees and the burnt out fire the shapes of the sleeping figures.

Glamrod could’ve been mistaken for a rock, a snoring rock thought Callain. Nearby lay the figure of Sadi, restless even in his sleep, he seemed to be giving orders in whatever dream, or nightmare, he was in. The three others from the battle, those who had apparently been Sadi’s elite guard seemed to have forgotten Sadi and seemed now to be guarding Illith'Hen, what with the way they were lying close to him. The elf lay on his back, the stave clutched in one hand, whether he was sleeping or not Callain couldn’t tell, he couldn’t even tell if the elf was breathing.

The girl that Glamrod and himself had encountered on the road, along with her stag, was lying away from the group, her stag sleeping alongside her. Remembering having eaten the stag that Tufty had killed Callain felt a twinge of guilt, but it was a small emotion, nothing more. A hunched figure leant against a crooked oak was that of Lefkl. The man, if that was all he was, for Callain had not yet made up his mind about the old ‘man’, looked for all the world like a statue, though one made by a rather cheap stone mason, Callain chuckled at this, but cut himself off when the figure laying next to him stirred, he hadn’t meant to wake her.

Looking down at the stirring figure lying next to him his whole body seemed to be filled with emotions, he had never felt them before he had started to travel with the group, and even then they had been small at first. Now they seemed to consume his whole being and fill his mind. The thought that entered Callain’s mind now was one that he would have buried before it could ever surface, but alas that was not possible. Why did he have to think that? Why liken this wondrous feeling with that of his lust for blood when he had been a vampyre. He wasn’t a vampyre any more. He wasn’t.

As the girl lying next to Callain opened her eyes and looked up at him he smiled. She smiled back and opened her mouth as if to speak. “Sleep. Sleep Kibrani” Callain interrupted. “But the, the fever?” her eyes still held remnants of the fear of her death, a fear that had been mirrored in his own eyes. “It is gone, you are cured. Now sleep, you are still weak” whispered Callain.

“You. You cured me. Didn’t you?” Kibrani asked, her hand finding Callain’s and grasping it tightly. He looked down at her, felt her hand touching his, her words those of an angel, and his unworthy as to share the same air as hers, yet with her question she had wished it, that his words and hers should share the same resting place. “Yes” Callain whispered softly. A simple word from the outside yet inside of him the memory of watching her dying had been renewed and the hurt was there in his chest again, yet his eyes saw her alive and well, his mind still saw her dying, and the confused and contrasting images waged a war inside of him. Did she know, he wondered, does she care?

Kibrani tightened her grip on his Callain’s hand and smiled at him, he half smiled back, was he upset with her? “Thank you” she said. “It was nothing, really” said Callain, quickly looking away, apparently finding the trees more interesting than her, the smile faded a little from her face.

“Nothing? You saved my life and it was nothing?” said Kibrani. “I couldn’t just let you die, not while I there was something I could do” said Callain, his words soothing Kibrani’s confusion a little, and bringing a smile back to her face, “You’re an important part of the group” said Callain, it was unwittingly and unknowingly cold. Kibrani stared at Callain’s back, he still wouldn’t look at her, she relaxed her grip on his hand.

“Is that all?”
Silence
“Is that all?”
Silence, again.
She let go of his hand and asked one third and final time.
Silence.

As their hands parted company Callain broke away and lay down, away from her. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about her, though in his effort not to think about her he only created more thoughts of her. He got no more sleep that night.

Kibrani turned away from him, pulling her bed roll tighter around her. A small tear was present in her eyes.

[ July 14, 2003, 01:50: Message edited by: Lazy Bonzo ]

 

I didn't think there was anymore Tufty. In the words of Bluin

 

Ta dman18, tufty is now gone gone gone!

 

(ooc - Because no romance worth its salt is without a few ups and downs...)

Kibrani fell back to sleep in spite of herself. When she woke, her confusion, disappointment, and hurt had fused into a lump of anger that burned dully in the pit of her stomach. She assembled her pack and bedroll quickly, hoping that she could release some of her fury on a hard day's march. "And Mother wondered why I left the 'courtly arts' to Joyani! I have no patience for these silly games - at least with a knife in my hand, I don't have to rely on someone else..." Her thoughts continued to be dark as she stalked towards the trees.

"How're ye feelin' lass?" Kibrani turned and bit back a sharp rejoinder when she recognized Lefkl's voice. Callain wouldn't be allowed to taint her feelings towards the rest of the group.

"Much better, thanks. I'm looking forward to setting out again." Then she caught sight of the newcomer's stag. "What in the blazes is that?!"

 

"That is Kale'panir. The Stag that guides me," replied a soft, silver voice. kibrani spun to face the Kale'jhidohen, an action that left her slightly dizzy. "And I am Kalen'myrara."
"Kalen'myrara?" Kibrani repeated, and at the girl's (woman's? Kibrani couldn't tell her age...) nod, she added, "Welcome. And well met."
"Kalen and Kale are titles in my tribe, what are added before names when a Stag chooses to bond with a Kale'jhidohen. you may call me Myrara, if you wish," Myrara said.
"How did you...?" Kibrani started. Myrara interrupted- "I was called to your group by two things. first, your plight was shown to me in a vision. Secondly, the Stave. It has called many, and I am just one of them."
"Oh," Kibrani said weakly. Lefkl, silent up until then, gently gripped Kibrani's upper arm and led her to a fire that had been started in the middle of the camp.
"So you're awake and with us!" said Sadi, handing Kibrani a plate full of food with a wink. "I was beginning to feel guilty about your illness, since it was brought about when you helped myself and my men with the fight."
Kibrani looked down at the plate, and suddenly realized she was ravenous. Between oversized bites, she said, "Think nothing of it."
Callain came to sit across the fire, looking at Kibrani with dark eyes. she met his gaze levelly, and he was the first to look away. Kibrani found that it was difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat. she quickly averted her gaze, and noticed the stag watching her with silver eyes. She blinked at it, and it stretched out it's neck, shook it's head, and went back to grazing. Welcome back guys!

 

Organisation, as it has already been said, is not a goblin trait. True there are goblins like Snarskall who are good at organising but this is no good when those that need to be organised are goblins, the majority just can’t grasp the idea of organisation. Snarskall was in fact a brilliant tactician, but he was in command of goblins, who individually are not stupid, if you used small words to explain things, but as a collective horde were often outwitted by root vegetables.

Stealth is also a trait not often found in goblins and their kind. Though they are small they are also noisy, though they make up for this in ferocity in their attacks it is not always a good exchange when they don’t know where the enemy is, and they are making enough noise to waken their dead kin, who usually died due to being shouting things like “I can’t see those pesky Elven archers anywhere…” shortly before they died.

There are absolutely no goblin trackers, those who have tried normally ended up tracking themselves around and around in circles. Contrary to common belief goblins don’t possess a heightened sense of smell, in fact their sense of smell is much lower than that of most creatures – an evolutionary result of spending most of their lives in close vicinity to other goblins.


So with the combination of all this the idea of entering the woods, even with a force of well over two hundred goblins, was starting to seem like a bad idea. The lack of organisation meant that the goblins had all charged into the woods in different directions, and with a limited number of directions there were now six or seven smaller bands of goblins hunting the unsuspecting party. Due to the lack of stealth each band is hearing noises that they think are coming from their prey, rather than other goblins. Several of the bands are actually following each other and will soon end up ambushing one another.


Snarskall’s band consisted of barely thirty goblins, but at least with Snarskall there they were neither following another band of goblins nor yelling their heads off, he’d even managed to get them somewhat organised. The largest goblins at the front, who hacked and slashed at the trees, were about midway between the height of a dwarf and a human, they were capable of taking orders and following them, but they didn’t have the intelligence to do much else, good fighters though, very strong.

Over the years Snarskall had come up with a hypothesis that the size of goblins was inversely proportional to the goblins intelligence. It was for this reason, he assumed, that he was less than two feet high, though the weapon he carried nearly doubled his height, and not only led a horde of goblins but also knew what words like ‘hypothesis’ meant.

Despite his superior intelligence he was as ignorant as the rest of the goblins about where those they hunted actually were, he didn’t know it but his band were actually closing in upon the clearing where the party had lain asleep, which would have been an excellent place to attack had they arrived sooner. Hearing a goblin complaining about being tired Snarskall turned and barked, “Shut it! Keep moving! We do not stop till we have found and slain these dishonourable few that escaped us!”. The other goblins cowered away from him, Snarskall was small but he was a giant among goblins when he spoke, even when he used words the goblins didn’t understand, like ‘tactics’ and ‘hygiene’.


A movement amongst the trees on his left caught his eye, the glint of a goblin cleaver confirmed Snarskall’s suspicions. Yelling at his band of goblins to halt, and getting about two thirds of them to do so, he turned to the trees and shouted “Who is there? Show yourselves!”.

“Snarskall?” the reply came. “Yes, fools, who else would it be?” Snarskall shouted back, “Now get out of those trees!”. Two dozen raggedy and foul smelling, more than usual anyway, goblins emerged from the trees and made their way towards the small and angry goblin. One of the goblins, the largest, from this new band stepped forward, “We thought you to be thems we hunted” he spoke clumsily and apologetically.
“Imbecile! Do I look like a human?”
“Err wel-“ mumbled the large goblin, wishing he was fighting a whole army of elves or men, rather than having to explain himself to his leader.
“Or a filthy elf?” interrupted Snarskall, he wasn’t shouting now just speaking clearly and precisely, to the goblin looming over him it seemed far worse this way.
“Umm n-“
“Or a dwarf? Of course a dwarf! With my long flowing beard? Get in line you pitiful excuse for a goblin!”


Feeling relived that it was over and he had survived the large goblin lumbered over to stand with the rest of Snarskall’s band, the goblins that had been with him falling into line alongside – Snarskall had, with remarkable perseverance and a lot of shouting, actually managed to get his band of goblins into a, relatively, organised fashion.


“Now we do not stop again until we have found those we seek! Forward!” Snarskall ordered. The goblin band marched on, and Snarskall almost smiled at the sight of goblins marching in formation, well more of a formation than not. If there had been more people like Snarskall, he thought, then the combination of our tactics and our superior abilities in battle would mean that the goblins would rise again and take back the world from those that had stolen it from the goblin race, and condemned them to the dark corners of the world.

 

The goblins made so much noise that even Glamrod - who had learned a few things about moving quietly in his travels with Illith'Hen - was disrupted. "Keep moving," Callain said gruffly. "I'll see what it is and be right back."

 

As Callain made his way back along the path the party had taken, towards the approaching band of goblins, he drew a short sword and loaded his crossbow. His eyes scanning through the trees it wasn’t long before he spotted a solitary goblin coming through the trees. Callain stood motionless as the goblin charged waving it’s cleaver above it’s head. As the goblin was just over a dozen paces away Callain brought his crossbow up and fired. The bolt passed straight through the goblins head and stuck in a tree. The goblin’s momentum carried it’s body almost to Callain’s feet, he grinned, sheathed his sword and slung his crossbow onto his back.

Callain turned to go back to the party at exactly the same time as Snarskall stood up, having concealed himself in a small bush. Before Callain realised what had happened Snarskall had wrapped a length of rope around the man’s legs, then pulling the rope tight Callain plummeted to the ground, his head striking a hard tree root. Callain saw Kibrani and Glamrod appearing from direction the rest of the party were, and from the other direction goblins, seemingly hundreds and hundreds of goblins, all charging towards them.

As he tried to stand Snarskall was there ahead of him and smashed his head into the tree root again, the last thing he saw before everything went black was Kibrani drawing a knife.

 

Kibrani didn’t hesitate when she saw dozens of goblins boiling out of the undergrowth. Glamrod was barely able to yank her back into cover.

“Are ye daft? Ye’ll be slaughtered!”

Kibrani didn’t answer as the others came up behind them. The knot of anger in her belly had turned into dread. She wanted to run after the marauders who had taken Callain, catch them and slice them into ribbons… but for what? If he didn’t care about her, saw her as just a brother-in-arms, what was the point of such a gesture? He had trivialized her life once, and she couldn’t bear to have him do it again. But still… leaving him to die at the hands of goblins… She felt as thought the fear of it would choke her. A sudden memory of her sister, eyes shining as she described a local guardsman who had become one of her regular customers and wanted to marry her, made Kibrani’s confusion fall away.

“I won’t leave him behind. Go on ahead, I’ll catch up as best I can.”

After a brief silence, Glamrod asked quietly, “Have you a plan?” When Kibrani shook her head, he grinned. “Then I won’t be messin’ anything up by taggin’ along.” He turned to Illith’Hen. “Give us an hour, if you can, then head directly east. Mark a path that I’ll know to follow.” Illith’Hen nodded as they clasped forearms, then Glamrod stepped to Kibrani’s side. At a silent gesture from the First, Third moved to join them as they headed into the trees.

Kibrani motioned them to stop after a few meters. “I’ve learned a few tricks,” she said pulling a small talisman out of her pouch. “Move as quietly as you can, and this spell should do the rest.” She muttered a few ancient words and tapped each of them with the charm.

They were able to reach the outskirts of the goblin camp without incident. Callain was bound to a pole before the only tent, his wrists in manacles that dangled from a chain that was too short to let him sit. Fresh bruises covered his face and drying blood held the remains of his shirt to the scourge-marks across his back. The sickly-sweet smell of burned flesh hung in the air; there were raw, oozing wounds on his palms and the soles of his feet.

Quickly devising a rough plan that would take advantage of the goblins’ inherent gullibility, they set it into motion. Kibrani and Glamrod waited until a disturbance in the woods sent most of the goblins chasing after game that had been flushed. Glamrod circled towards Callain, slitting throats as he went and catching the bodies to keep their poses somewhat natural. Third came forward, the unconscious goblin across his back not hampering his ability to dispatch a few more. Kibrani followed in his wake and swiftly picked the lock on the manacles. When Callain was free and slumped across Glamrod’s shoulders, Third snapped the irons around the goblin’s hands. Only minutes passed before they were concealed behind a small grassy hill.

“Stay with him, lass. We’ll go cover our tracks.” Third nodded at Glamrod’s order, and they vanished.

Groaning, Callain rolled face down in the grass. The wounds on his back had reopened and dirt clung to them. Kibrani trickled water over the gashes and gently loosened the remains of his shirt from the scabs. She didn’t trust her voice, so she said nothing.

“’Rani…” Callain’s voice, roughened by his bruised face and muffled by the ground, broke the silence. “’Rani, I’m sorry…” She caught her breath and tried to swallow the tears that suddenly welled up. She knew he wasn’t talking about getting captured by goblins.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Never, you hear me? If you do I’ll make you wish those goblins had finished the job.” Her voice broke, belying her harsh words.

With a groan he rolled to his side and reached up to wipe her cheek. When she finally met his eyes, he simply said, “Never again. Promise.”

 

Rallymama, that was great!

[ July 15, 2003, 22:26: Message edited by: Lazy Bonzo ]

 

Tahnks! It put my projects at work about two days behind...

 

ooC: where has everybody else gone?


Snarskall had had his goblins set up camp a little way from the trees, he’d seen too many trees in the past day. As he strolled out of his tent, one of only two in the campsite, the other contained a small locked box to which only he had the key, Snarskall was remarkably cheery. They’d only got one of those that they had hunted, but he would make excellent bait, the goblin sniggered. However that was not all, for goblin who had ‘volunteered’ to charge the man, and had ‘unfortunately’ been killed, had been the very same who had angered Snarskall the previous night, a remarkable coincidence.

Looking out at the camp Snarskall saw his goblins laying asleep and the empty pole, he let out a howl that echoed across the campsite and off of the trees in wood. Even through his rage he still had enough of his sense to realise that not one of the sleeping goblin guards had moved or even shown any sign of hearing his outburst. As he reached the nearest he saw the slit throat, he didn’t bother to check the rest.

Drawing his cleaver he turned to make chase, alone, back into the trees. But before he could do so he saw the rest of the goblins returning, carrying various birds and a few deer. The nearest barely had time to say “Hey boss, look what we got” before the cleaver came down and lopped of one of his arms. The goblin screamed and fell to the ground clutching at where his arm had been.

“You! All of you!” Snarskall screamed at the stunned goblins “come with me! We are going to kill! Kill them all! Kill! Kill!” spittle flew from his mouth. The other goblins all started to edge backwards, they’d seen him angry before but never like this, he was always calm and controlled, till now.

A faint humming and pulsing light started to come from the second tent. As both the noise and the light soon intensified and all the goblins, save Snarskall, turned their attention to it. Several minutes later Snarskall calmed down, heard the humming and strolled towards the tent, throwing his cleaver to the dusty ground on the way.

Inside the tent he took the key from a pocket in his clothing and fitted it into the chest. Upon the opening of the chest the humming cut out, and the light dimmed until it was just a pin point in the centre of the sliver of crystal that lay inside the padded chest.

Snarskall knelt down and touched the crystal. A tingle shot up his hand, along his arm, across his shoulders, and into his mind. As the surroundings faded to a whiteness that seemed to engulf his very existence he spoke,

“Lord Drogul...”