NARRATION 27
Saturday, 11 April 1571 P.C.E.
Hora Ante Nones

is leftenant and chaplain leading a third of the troop into the depths of the Barrows, the Wardsergeant takes command of the remaining troopers. As the rest of the force moves into the room, the grizzled veteran strides over to the hearth and steps up to view his men. With his hands on his weapon hilts, he scowls at the battered troop until the metallic sounds of their shifting armour silences enough for him to be heard.

Squinting at the corporal of his weakened squad, he bellows," Third Squad, you've got camp duty until your wounded heal up. Get the bivouac set up and see what kind of meal you can scrounge from our supplies and the captured foodstuffs."

As the squad moves off grumbling about its detail, the sergeant looks at his other two corporals. "All right, Fourth squad tend to the mounts and get them bedded down. Fifth, you place pickets on the wall and at the gate..plus detail two men to watch that downward stair. Now move!"

As the metallic sound of the Wardtroopers move to their tasks, the older sergeant settles down on the hearth and pulls forth his pipe from his satchel. Filling and lighting the bowl, he looks to the bound and gagged prisoners, who gaze at him angrily from their place on the floor. He chuckles for a moment and points at them with his pipe. "Now lads, if you'd been reasonable, there would be no reason to keep you wrapped up, but I can't do a thing about it now. Have to wait until the leftenant returns with your doggy friend. I wonder what kind of oddness they'll find chasing after him."

he angry snarls of the cat amplify into a baneful, howling banshee's wail. Spitting and hissing, it arches up and seems to double in size. It launches itself from its perch, its claws making a horrible shriek against the metal of Talen's armour. With surprising speed, the tom avoids the concerned knight's restraining hand and bounds through the party towards the southernmost of the attackers.

The attackers move forward en masse, nameless and anonymous. Clad in black tabards over chain or leather, the closed-helmed warriors move forward like a pack of soulless wraiths, each with falchion or broadsword in his hand. The only sound comes from their heavy breathing and the creaking and clanking of their armours. Through the milling warriors, the two black knights push forward to strike at the party. To their rear, the false priests in their black hoods linger, awaiting the chance to lay some curse.

Seeing the cat escape, Sir Talen brings his eyes up to spy one of the false priests. With a grim smile, he draws an arrow and nocks it to his bow. Taking aim, he finds his shot blocked by the movement of his companions to meet the enemy, and immediately searches for another target. Father Martin retreats to a position just alongside of the bow wielding knight. With his massive gold crucifix thrust before him, he begins the rapid recitation of a prayer just beneath his breath.

Meanwhile, Sir Calimar finds himself in dire straits, beset upon by five of the dark warriors. Blow after blow descends mercilessly upon him. Waving wildly with both long and short blades, he tries to fend them off, to no avail. However, the bard, Doran comes to his aid. From her distant position, she recites a bardic evocation and a hail of mystical bolts slam into two of the haggard knight's attackers, driving them lifeless to the ground.

The bard's pyrotechnic display garners the attention of one of the attacking dark priests. From the depths of his shadowed hood, he speaks a vile corruption of the Church's tongue and the foul curse can almost be seen snaking through the air towards Doran. For a heart's beat, a sickly green aura surrounds the winsome bard, and then her face becomes a sorrowful beaten mask. Haltingly, she begins to move towards the heretic.

Finishing the reels of his long prayer, Martin aims a dazzling white light from his outthrust crucifix. The light surrounds the nearest false cleric, two of the soldiers and the knave commander of the dark horde. Only the knight shakes off the effect of the prayer and continues to move towards the party. Meanwhile, his companions are frozen in midstride, seemingly unable to move. His grim smile growing even wider, Talen sights the frozen priest and lets fly with a shot. The feathered dart strikes the heart of immobile dark priest and the force of the blow topples him over.

The two groups of warriors slam into each other like opposing tides and soon everyone finds themselves in a chaotic sea of swinging blades. The strange ranger knocks away a weak attack and reverses his blade into a powerful overhead blow, cleaving a dark warrior to the navel. He lets the body slide away and moves to engage another. As the ensorcelled bard moves into the turmoil of the melee, Cain tries to follow her, only pausing to knock away blades of the enemy. Folly moves to the center of the fray and tears off a rapidly recited spell. Dazzlingly bright bolts of magical force leap from his fingertips at three different targets. One dark warrior falls in a scorched heap, another takes the blast yet stands, and the remaining false cleric sways from a bolt. Durian intercepts the knave commander and they meet in a clash of arms. Nearby, Shardis greets the lesser knight with a flurry of his sickles, but does not prove up to the task. The knight knocks away his blades w shield and slams his longsword into the ranger's unprotected thigh. The bone snaps under the blow and Shardis falls crippled.

Seeking to flank the enemy, Castus moves to the west while Rumil moves to the south after the cat. Castus finds his way unhindered while Rumil encounters a pair of dark warriors trying to circle the party. The large paladin slams into the first and finishes him with a quick swing of his heavy bastard sword. Turning to face the second, he sees the black and white tom launch itself at the enemy warrior. To his surprise, an impenetrable globe of blackness surrounds the pair. Almost immediately his brow twists into a furrow of worry. A resounding roar of some great beast comes from the darkness, followed by horrified screams. The screams end in a wet gurgle as splatters of blood and bits of flesh fly from the darkness. Crossing himself, he turns back to the battle rather than venture into the darkness.

The confusion of fighting continues to grow, punctuated by ringing steel, shouts of anger, and the groans of the wounded. The knave commander overbears Durian, ramming the half-elven knight full out. Bones cracking from the blow, Durian falls with his left arm hanging uselessly and barely restraining groans as the result of battered ribs. His opponent fallen, the black knight, growling under his breath, lunges at Father Martin. However, the large crucifix warms in the priest's hand and glows with a white light. The knight's growl becomes louder and he holds back from the priest, impotently poking at the cleric with his sword. Defiantly, the priest stands his ground, knocking away the weak attacks of the knave with his staff.

Talen, seeing the plight of Father Martin, drops his bow, draws his sword, and unslings his shield. With a cry of, "For the AllFather!", he rushes forward to engage the black knight. He takes two steps but is stopped when a very large warrior intervenes in the knight's path. Talen barely brings his shield up in time before a hammering blow hits it with a resounding crash, crumpling it.

Rumil and the strange ranger engage the two warriors, near the remaining Nefandite. Rumil and one swing at each other ineffectively. Their blows resounding off each other's upraised shield. The stranger carelessly slaps the other down, and moves to help the paladin deal with the dark warrior.

Calimar and his remaining foes face off. He fends off several attacks, dodging and slapping them away, before taking another slash to the arm. The attacker overextends himself, and the knight slashes him in return. Like a pack of wolves against a moose, the dark warriors begin to circle the knight anew.

Through the bloodshed, Doran makes her way to the cleric. She kneels at his feet, causing a gale of vicious laughter from the Nefandite. Then, ignoring her, he focuses on Folly and utters another curse. The same green aura surrounds the mage and he suddenly turns and flees the battle. Meanwhile, Cain continues to battle his way to the bard but is blocked by the lesser knave. Ranger and knight meet in a clash of arms, scimitar against longsword.

Castus rounds a column and hits the western flank of the enemy. Bellowing, he slams into a dark warrior. Knocking the man back, the monk brings his mace down, crushing the dark warrior's helm like eggshell. Before he can begin to move forward to attack another, the monk lets out a scream of complete agony. All that turn to look, see three shiny blade-like spikes emerge out of his body through his armour and lift him into the air. As the monk hangs limply in the air, all become aware of a giant, bulbous, multi-legged, shiny black shape behind the monk. Horrifically, the giant spider draws the limp form close and bites Castus with foot-long fangs. Then, the monster callously throws the monk against a nearby column before lashing out at one of the dark warriors. The armoured figure screams as it falls while holding its slit open belly.

Behind the first spider, a large nondescript shape can be seen moving in the shadowy mouth of a side tunnel. Before the foul thing can move out, a large shadowy blur rushes from the southeast, pushing aside all in its path. It slams into the large skittering form, driving it back into the tunnel. The roars of a great beast are mixed with the terrible metallic shrieks of a spider.

The party makes good use of the moment of terror. In the confusion, several strike out effectively. Doran, still kneeling in front of the Nefandite and beginning to draw her sword with her offhand as if to surrender it, comes out from under the effects of his curse. Catching the false priest unaware, she slams the heavy basket hilt of her sword into his jaw. As he staggers back, she lets a dagger drop into her hand from a sheath up her sleeve and drives it into the inside of his left thigh, drawing a spray of blood. He falls to the floor, twitches for a moment and then ceases to move.

Cain and the lesser knave continue their dance of death. The ranger's faster blades pick at any opening in the knight's heavier armour, but his shield keeps Cain's blades from drawing serious damage. Finally, the knight comes all out, swing with his longsword and attempting to bash the ranger with his shield. Cain ducks beneath the attack, and spins around the knight as he passes so that he can swing at the knaves' unprotected backside. The scimitars cut through the knight's armour, hamstringing him.

Calimar takes the offensive and unleashes an onslaught of blows upon his enemies. He charges the nearest, clipping the dark warrior's temple with the hilt of his sword and knocking him momentarily senseless. He spins about in time to catch another's blade between his crossed swords. With a violent twist, the First Thorn snaps the shoddy falchion and continuing the twisting motion, Calimar guides the blade to cut deep into the neck of his last attacker. As their companion falls with his life's blood spilling quickly away, the disarmed attacker helps his addled companion and then they back away from the battered knight. Calimar is in no condition to follow, and he sinks slowly to one knee, his head resting on the crossguard of the First Thorn.

The heavy blows continue to rain down on Sir Talen from his large opponent. His shield arm heavy with fatigue, the knight keeps his nearly useless shield up, fending off the battering falchion. Finally, the blade pierces the ruined shield and wedges in the metal. As his opponent struggles to free his blade, Talen runs him through. Withdrawing the blade as the warrior falls, Talen can tell that the large warrior is wounded seriously enough to be out of the fight.

Rumil and the ranger continue to struggle against their opponent. Blades and shields clash against each other, but none can gain the upper hand. Both sides momentarily fall back, preparing for another meeting of arms, but that meeting never occurs. A loud twang announces the arrival of a heavy bolt in the left eyeslit of the dark warrior's helm. As he falls heavily, Lugnut bounds up cackling and shaking his crossbow at the fallen enemy.

Far down the large chamber, Folly stops in his flight from the battle. He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs before turning back to the fight. The sight of the giant spider that savaged Castus causes him momentary pause, but his training takes over. Moving towards the horrible creature, he cants a spell and a stream of magical missiles fly from his fingertips, striking the flank of the beast and blasting away one of its legs. The great gaping wound causes the great spider to let out an unworldly shriek. Snapping its mandibles angrily, the monster rears back and launches itself in the direction of the mage with its sword-like legs extended. The mage blanches at the charge, and reacts with another volley of searing magic. The bolts strike the beast in mid-leap, and it crashes to the ground a charred mass.

Seeing his forces greatly reduced and fleeing, the knave commander takes a few steps back then drops his blade before turning to run from the priest. Martin begins to move after the knight, but thinks better of it, seeing the crumpled form of the monk, and he leaves the knave to flee. However, Calimar, regardless of his wounds, swings at the knave as he passes. The First Thorn slaps the armoured man across the shins, causing him to stumble. However, Calimar is in no condition to take advantage of his straits, the questing knights blow having taken the last of his strength.

Cursing, the knave regains his feet and begins to move away. Doran sees him about to escape. She gives the dying Nefandite cleric one last kick and begins to run after the slowly moving knight. Coming within five paces, she lets another dagger slide into her hand and hurls the blade. It bites deep into the back of the knight's right knee. He halts and grabs at the agonizing wound with gauntleted hands. The bard closes with him and sweeps his good leg out from under him. He roars and hits the floor with a loud metallic ring. Before he can gather his wits, Doran drops on him and puts the heavy point of her main gauche to the base of his neck. With a pleasantly vicious smile, she mutters," Sir Knight, you would not so rudely leave a lady, would you?" The captured knight only growls in response.

His face twisted in worry, Father Martin strides quickly over to the fallen monk. Shaking his head sadly, he kneels by the stricken Castus. His armour and flesh rent by the spider's legs, the monk lies in a spreading pool of his own life's blood. Martin grasps his crucifix and begins a prayer of healing as he touches the brow of the waning monk. A bright glow encompasses the priest's hand and is joined by a like one from the crucifix. It slowly spreads to cover the monk and the great tears in his skin slowly grow together. As the divine healing power surrounds Castus, Martin continues the repetition of the prayer, even when Talen's tomcat wanders from the shadows and begins to rub against the monk's feet, purring. The glow takes a pinkish tinge and the monk begins to breathe easier. His eyes flutter open. Giving the priest a weak smile, Castus lifts a hand for the priest to stop. "Go take care of the rest, lad, I'll be fine." Hesitantly, the priest rises to do as or unsure of his patient's miraculous recovery.

Meanwhile, the rest of the party secures the battle site. Cain and the strange ranger collect the various Nefandite prisoners, wounded and held, and bring them none to gently to the center of the room. Unceremoniously, they drop them to the floor and bind them. With blades in hand, Doran and Folly act as sentries, carefully watching the various archways. Talen and Rumil, then joined by Martin, tend to the parties wounded. After laying hands on Shardis and Durian, the two paladins realize that the pair's broken bones are beyond their healing abilities. With the priest's guidance, they bind the wounds for the slow process of nature. Calimar refuses any priestly aid beyond the binding of his many gashes, and sits tiredly against a column, reverently holding the First Thorn. Only Lugnut goes about his task with any zeal as he gathers up the various discarded weapons. Cackling happily, he picks up each one and thoroughly examines it, tossing away the dross and keeping those worth.

The flurry of activity is halted by a booming voice from the direction that the party came. "Hold where you are and keep your hands from your weapons."

Everyone turns to see a line of fifteen men in Warden blue tabards coming from the south with weapons drawn. They close the distance to the party quickly, taking a defense stance some five paces away. His face covered with sweat and grime, the hawknosed Wardleftenant, leading the troopers, looks definitely put out by circumstances. Glaring at Lugnut, he motions with his sword point at the party. "I captured a human and halfling upstairs, after finding the keep vandalized and they resisted. " He pauses to jab his blade at Lugnut, who now peeks from behind Doran's legs while hissing at the Wardens. "This thing escaped and we pursued. I want him for questioning.." He raises his eyes from the kobold to swing them across the group. "...unless of course, you can explain what has happened there..." Then, he nods to the prisoners and dead, lying about. "...and here as well."

Before anyone can answer, a tapping noise comes from the back of the party. Using his mace as a cane, Castus stiffly limps forward, looking quite a sight. His face is pale and lined with pain while his blood-stained armour hangs in metallic shreds from his shoulders. "Leftenant, I believe I can answer your questions." The monk moves next to Talen for support, leaning heavily on the shorter knight. "We were attacked by the walking dead last eve at the witching hour." He motions at Doran. "Milady bard swooned as a result of a diabolic vision, and we felt that we must come into the depths to end whatever evil is here...as well as pursue a quest to which our companion is sworn." Castus points to the inverted crucifix hanging from a chain around the neck of one of the Nefandite priests. "These heretics attacked us while another group fled to the north."

An oddly accented voice joins the conversation, again from behind the party, "Perhaps, I can add further to the most honourable warrior's account."

Turning, everyone sees an odd assemblage. An exotic looking halfling, small even for his race, with long black hair and dressed in a simple tunic and breeches of shiny black cloth leads a fair haired half-elfess, similarly dressed in black and a group of dour faced human warriors. Smiling inscrutably, the halfling places a hand on his chest while pointing his companions with the other. "This is my ...associate...the honourable Lady Travanna and my employees, Sergeant Kasserein and his men. I am but a humble fisherman... Nodisco Origami." He moves between the monk and the Wardleftenant, giving each a sharp, slight bow at the waist. "I came to be traveling abroad is this wondrous land searching for western knowledge of my most humble way of life as a fisherman." Walking about the room and taking in the surroundings Nodisco continues his story. "I came to be staying in an inn when I was roused from my repose by a great commotion in the hallway... I looked into the hall and t thing I know, I am waking in a cell. I came to be accompanied by the lovely Travanna-san in a procession down the corridors of this deep. Several gentlemen carrying a large and rather important looking tome proceeded us as well as several guards. After the two robe wearing individuals came to some harm and now we are here." He finishes with the same inscrutable smile and short bow to all. "I may humbly suggest that we move to acquire the book as recompense for the discomfort caused by our ...hosts."

As the halfling finishes, Talen says," I think, perhaps, that my earlier advice was in error. If we are to ultimately confront whatever evil dwells in this place, we must be better prepared for it. As had been counseled before our moment of adversity, perhaps we should follow the mysterious knight that has led us to this place."

The Wardleftenant takes in the two groups, and shrugs. "I'm satisfied that your causes are just and need to be acted upon. I will send the wounded and captured back with most of my men to get reinforcements...including your vociferous halfling friend. Depending on your plan of action, we may need all the troops we can in clearing out this pesthole."