Rybnik Pass

Thursday 23rd December 356AC Continued

Once we had eaten lunch our reduced war-band rode out through the fog and the mud, continuing on into the night. Around an hour after nightfall we were confronted with the mountain pass. Rybnik Pass is an imposing feature, it looks as though some great giant has cleft the mountain with its axe. The ravine is narrow and its sides rise vertically towards the heavens broken only by an apparent cave network that Sir Dominic laid eyes upon. In the clay of the track Brother Ithariel was able to discern the footprints of humans, goblins and draconians in some numbers. 

The ladies of the party then took it upon themselves to play the role of scouts, leaving those of us less stealthy by nature to wait. 
Some time passed and I had the opportunity to study the caves, reasoning that they must be joined inside the network - thus providing a perfect defensible position, allowing rocks and other material to be rained down upon your attackers before making an escape through the earth. 
Shortly before we would have become concerned for the safety of our comrades a dull thump could be heard a little way up the pass, followed by a hunting horn. We readied the men, forming a spear line across the opening of the pass, while the advance party retreated to the safety of the group. 

Eventually our sharp-eyed kender spotted hooded man walking down the pass towards us. He knocked an arrow to his longbow and let fly, sending an arrow into the dirt not far from our position, fixed to which was a scrap of parchment inscribed with the words "Flee or die". Not to be put off by unfounded threats we sent the shadowy archer's missile back to its owner and in a rare moment of whimsy one of the knights replaced the note with one reading "There's nobody here". It is after all, healthy to relieve tension in times of stress. For at least another hour by the stars the only further contact we experienced was a second projectile note reading "Still here?"

Around midnight a shout of "gas" was raised from one of those on watch. As we roused ourselves, a noxious mist the colour of bile could be seen inexorably creeping along the pass towards our forward line. Brother Ithariel, quick to action as ever, gathered the pikemen & had them build a substantial fire at the mouth of the gorge in the hope that the heat would dissipate the unholy fog. Fortunately the Lady Azshauna was able to identify the spell used as 'Cloudkill', an extremely unpleasant method of slaughtering your foe en masse but one easily overcome by the light breeze the lady summoned at her command. 

Some two hours later our rest was once again disturbed by sight of the hooded archer. On this occasion he had with him a goblin companion and a large man who continued to shamble towards us. This oversized, stumbling figure caught our attention as he approached the dying light of the fire we had set earlier in the night. As he came into view we could see that he was dressed in the furs of a Plainsman but his flesh was unnaturally swollen, as if filled with fluid. Starsong did not recognise the man as one of her Que-Kiri tribe but she was still distraught at his condition, particularly once he was close enough to see the pain on his face and the tears streaming down his cheeks. It became evident that this poor soul was no longer in control of his actions and whatever dire purpose he served was clearly to our detriment. It broke my heart to give the order but the archers at my command responded swiftly and without hesitation, giving evidence to their worth. As they prepared to loose their arrows and stop the wretched Plainsman the nefarious bowman sent a burning missile into his pawn and there followed a tremendous explosion. Apparently the captured prisoners of this enemy are being turned into weapons inconceivable in nature. Fortunately the blast was too far back from our line and we escaped with no injuries, at least none physical. The rest of the night passed uneventfully, though many of us lost sleep thinking of the unfortunate soul who had been sacrificed to a nefarious cause. 

Ogres!

 

Thursday 23rd December 356 AC

By noon the weather had turned foul and hail beat down upon us. Unable to start a fire, our advance group stopped for a cold lunch. Brother Ithariel did manage to cook the brace of rabbits caught by Lady Azshauna. Just in time to share a meal Sir Dominic reverted to his normal form, fuming with rage at having to endure such abasement. As he stormed about in anger he happened to glance up and notice something through the hail. Eight ogres were advancing on our position in 'arrow' formation, not an easy thing for and ogre commander to assemble. 

 
Starsong was the first to meet the threat with bow and flaming arrow, landing a hit in the neck of the lead beast, after which our infantry followed suit. Swiftly a defensive line was formed about me with the pikemen planting their long-arms ready to receive the charge. Lady Azshauna erupted a massive ball of fire amid the rampaging ogres and the lead ogre returned the favour by detonating flame amongst our own ranks. Sir Dominic fared the worst of those who survived, though he faultered not. Without warning some of the less experienced knights rode out to meet the enemy advance head on. Though they were noble & brave, their actions secured their demise. Some did mange to wound their attackers but ultimately the ogres made use of their size and strength to vanquish them. Once the charge met our spear line we resisted, though it hit us hard. Starsong sustained a wound and some of the infantry now rest with Paladine. At some point Sir Dominic managed to heal his own wounds and join the fight, beheading one of the vile creatures. The lead ogre targeted the Lady Azshauna and landed a cruel blow, sending her reeling before it unleashed another ball of flame amidst our ranks. With the unfailing bravery of the kender Nedlog leapt at the abomination, grappling like a ferret up a trouser leg, until she grasped the ogre's wand. With a flash of light most of the ogre's torso disappeared and Nedlog assumed a smug expression. With the battle all but won, the final ogre tried to make it's escape. Swiftly I mounted my horse and rode it down. As I leapt from my mount I attempted to subdue the fiend with my shield so that we could interrogate it, sadly ogres are not as durable as I had been led to believe and I succeeded in crushing it's windpipe. 

Too many good men lost their lives in that short fight and I hold myself entirely accountable. An army, no matter how small, is only as strong as its commander and my leadership or lack there of cost us dearly. While Sir Dominic gave the remaining men a rousing speech to lift their spirits and Brother Ithariel lectured them on the folly of charging past a defensive line, I spent my time praying over the bodies of the fallen and collecting their heirlooms. I pray that when next we meet combat I am able to show more wisdom in my command. 
Once our own dead had been attended to we turned our attention to the foul smelling corpses of the ogres, finding no small amount of coin and a letter written in the monsters' tongue. Lady Azshauna was able to translate the note and explained that it had been signed by Scranti, one of our quarry. He, She or It requested that the ogres send out a force to stop their pursuers and allow their band time to escape to Blödhelm. The letter also explained that the fort being assaulted by the main body of our army had been rigged as some kind of trap for the nights. Given the date we were able to calculate that we had very little time to warn Sir Hassan of the danger. I dispatched one of the men immediately with a copy of the ogre's letter and a brief explanation of the danger, an hour later I dispatched one of the pikemen (who promised some riding experience) as insurance, should the Knight be waylaid.