The war party gathered silently outside Tharsi's tumbledown lodge in the fading light of dusk. A sense of somber anticipation suffused many of them, as a mix of old campaigners and younger warriors had gathered to face the threat posed by the Dourhand and the mysterious plans of the Stained Court (for brief background and dramatis personae, see Xanderian's Journal - Entry 34, for deeper background, see multiple stories from multiple authors).
Their horses side by side, Xanderian and Xandilif conferred in low tones. Laying across the back of Xandilif's mount was a small, greenish-brown figure, his fur carefully combed out and his hands bound, just in case. Nik the Kobold was trying hard not to be heard by the enemies below, but was a good deal less than happy. "Nik poleitical poisoner, me should NOT be here...DOURHANDS EAT KOBOLD!!!! FREE NIK!!!!! FREE NIK!!!"
One solid glare from Xandilif silenced the Kobold, and the group rode in silence to the ridge overlooking the port. They split naturally into groups.
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The Lady Ahmo, Lore and Ahmrun, with Vandallan to give cover with his bow, made up the tear that was to slip into the Port, scale the Spire and make off with the dreaded Spike.
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Addie, Nethrida with Enthan giving magical support were to do their best to keep the Dourhand on the wall busy.
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Xandilif and Masin were to challenge the Morroval known as Lyr the Twiceborn.
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Lastly, Xanderian, Eduwiges and Hawke would face the necromancer Erech and his retinue.
The task was enormous, and hopefully the only one that truly mattered was the team stealing the Spike...everything else was simply to buy them time to perform their task and smuggle the strange weapon by ship to Lindon for safe keeping.
As the party slowly slipped up to the ridge overlooking the foul port of Kheledul, a surprise awaited them....in the vast open space below, before the gates which were meant to be sparsely guarded, were perhaps 300 Dourhand warriors and armed slaves of every variety.
Xanderian stared...."What...what is this? We cannot come through such a force to the gate...are we betrayed? I do not understand...this is...strange. The stealth team were meant to repel down into the port...but a force this side will make stealth impossible since the rest of us cannot possibly hold their attention for long..we are thwarted."
The Lady Ahmo would not hear defeatism, "Then the support troops must make a louder ruckus, that is all."
At that, the Kobold on the back of the banshee's horse spoke up and struggled to hop down."NO stupid Whiney Knife Ear...is just prime for the pump....'
Ahmo snapped at the creature, 'Belt up you!'
The Kobold snarled up at her, unintimidated. "Shut it, Snooty Knife Ear..me know, you no know...Is pump prime."
Ahmo looked at Xandilif, assuming she was the little beast's mistress, 'Will it speak plainly?'
Off to the side, Lore watched the small drama and spoke to Ahmrun quietly in Haradric. 'Cripple the midget if it tries to flee.' The dark man nodded his assent.
Nik grumbled and hid behind Lif's horse. "Knife Ears talktalk to hide stupidstupid....smell, smell...it smell dark and swirly...it coming....'
Vandallan unslung his bow and nocked two arrows as Eduwiges said under her breath, 'I have a bad feeling about this." An acrid ordor was indeed rising from the valley below.
As the group watched, it seemed like a black light had begun to pulse from the Spire....as a sense of deep foreboding filled each of the warriors, as if they would never see sunlight again...and then, a sound like nails across slate as the hundreds in the valley before them begin to scream, and writhe....and die, their corpses steaming with a sickly black smoke that streamed towards the Spike.
Each witness to the arcane slaughter had a different reaction. Lore managed not to spit in disgust, and Ahmrun was grateful for the wrap hiding his face. Vandallan furled his brow looking down at the now deceased dwarves, and growled at the mass sacrifice. Eduwiges looked shocked, the stench making her gorge rise, "Is this the work of the spike?' The Lady Ahmo simply nodded to the question, starting at the killing ground coldly.
Xandilif met Masin's eyes, and the two said nothing, simply checking their weapons.
Hawke stood behind Xanderian and turned green and then pale as the elleth shrugged to him ruefully. "Well, at least our approach is now clear..."
Vandallan looked over to Hawke and said softly "Stay strong, rot is but a scent. We're a long way from those Bree-lander thugs aren't we?"
Nik however hopped up and down...."Pump is primed...next is everybody else...they loaded up the nasty splinter with yummy souls. STUPID KNIFE EARS...NOW..you got maybe 500 heartbeats to get them to stop...or we all DEADDEADDEADSKY!!!"
Xanderian nodded, knowing the Kobold was right. There was no more time to consider or debate...."Assault team, let us take the gate, we have no time to wait before they use that again to greater effect. Stealth team stand by...as soon as we are down, slip into the fortress.
Debellora nodded to Ahmrun and crooked a finger at Ahmo and the trio began making their way closer along the ridge line toward the walls to where Ahmo had fixed a long rope to a tree. Vandallan looked over to the harbor and grimaced as he followed, he knew what he had to do.
Xanderian dropped down along the ridge line, following by Eduwiges and Hawke, making for the now totally empty gateway. Soon after, Xandilif and Masin followed for the gate while Addiela and Nethrida dropped down into the open field filled with the dead.
Nethrida was staring at the devastation with a disturbed look in her eyes. She covered her mouth but it did not conceal the dread that had set in her gaze, her nerves already threatening to send her into retreat. The last time she had faced battle, she had failed and all those she led died...who was to say that outcome had not been the exception, but the new rule?
As the assault team moved into place the gateway was indeed now unguarded, several of the Dourhand regulars laying dead. It seemed that the Spike worked better then they had expected and had killed many of the sentries...the attackers were in luck as they slipped inside. Xandilif and Masin sprinted deeper into the fortress, the champion feeling the Morroval Blood-witch clearly, while Xanderian, Eduwides and Hawke moved towards the Angmarim sorcerers who were already alerted to their entry.
Near the Spire, Vandallan found a position high enough to fire on both the Spire and the boats in the port and waited, seeing his three teammates slipping up to the Spire, where a handful of sorcerers seemed intend on resetting something. Fortunately they were engrossed and didn't notice the team even as they slipped closer to the structure.
However as they got closer to the spike, all three began feeling more and more uneasy....a fluttering inside of them, a growing anxiety that all was not as it should be. Swiftly however they worked their way to the base of the Spire, any Dourhand that had been unavoidable had been quietly disposed of and submerged in the water, their armor and gear dragging them into the murky depths. Sadly no one noticed the water bubbling around the sinking corpses.
Soon Lore was boosting both Ahmrun and Ahmo up the complex structure, while Vandallan kept a careful eye to make sure no one came upon them unaware. As the elf watched however, he was slowly filled with the strangest realization that those little insects climbing the spire were actually his foes and they must surely die. His birth demanded that he must be the hero and do what had to be done. He struggled with this certainty, while taking careful aim on the Lady Ahmo, but at the last moment managed to cast his aim to the side even as he let fly, the arrow narrowly missing the Lady Ahmo's head as she climbed.
Horrified by what he nearly did, the elf realized that one of the Dourhand was rapidly coming towards the climbers, shouting something unclear to the sorcerers around the base. Taking aim he neatly slew the dwarf, sending his body falling into the waterway. Turning away, searching for another target, he didn't see the sorcerer at the base of the Spire gesture...as a spirit rose up out of the dwarves floating corpse, racing through the air towards the archer, hungry for vengeance. However the other sorcerers seemed eager to back away from the Spire, as if afraid of something that was about to happen. They had good reason to be.
Meanwhile, after coming through the unguarded gate, Xan looked back at Eduwiges and Hawke. then he gestured at the approaching sorcerers. His own gaze was fixed on the figure who remained atop the platform behind them....Erech of the Unsealed. The necromancer bowed to the huntress, and the battle of wills was joined while Hawke and Eduwiges crossed swords with his lackeys.
At the same time, Addie and Neth, accompanied by Addie's bear, slipped across the field surrounded by dead, steaming Dourhands and slaves of every race in Middle Earth. The stench was incredible, alive with sulfur and brimstone. As they reached the edge of the wall, three Dourhand sentries who remained noticed them and after a moments pause out of surprise for seeing anything alive down there, charged.
Addiela was looking around at the corpses in restrained horror, slowly focusing on the task at hand, and then quickly snapped her head toward the movement. With a brief command, she sent the bear to confront the dwarves, almost surprising herself with her resolve.
Nethrida, however, struggled not to retch at the sight and smell of the dead. She was a little slow to pull herself back to reality and had not even noticed the opposition moving towards her, but as the bear lumbered past her she was brought back to the moment at hand and drew her sword. Holding the blade, recently dubbed Tarnished Glory high with both hands she murmured "For Gondor..." To herself and followed after the bear to engage the Dourhands.
Long after dawn as the survivors huddled around the abandoned wagon at the safehouse, discussing the battle, it would be noted that this was the point where things went terribly wrong...
