A Land Far Away

((It's been a while since I've written anything, let alone posted anything in this forum, but I've got an itch recently that I need to scratch and I would appreciate some feedback from the community on how I can make it better.

This is not ALFA-related in any way. Last Sunday I started a new campaign with my PnP group. It's high-level and it's proving to be a lot of fun. So much fun that it's inspired me to write down the story of it. Our first session was short, but fruitful as far as fictional fodder goes. I'll be updating this on a chapter basis and truly appreciate any comments regarding it.

The story is told from the viewpoint of my PC, Randall Quenton. There are currently three other players in the group, though only two could make it to the first session which is chapters one and two. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: The following is most definitely PG-13. It's taken entirely from my PnP group and then expanded for color. There is swearing and likely lots of graphic gore. You have been warned.))

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Randall Quenton entered the hallway in the basement of the military headquarters of Edios. The time was 0645, giving him some time to look over his papers before his meeting with General Chappelle in fifteen minutes. He tried hard not to look uncomfortable in his breastplate as the shoulder pads and attaché strap rubbed against his aching back. The armor was glamered to match his formal uniform and he never left the safety of his room without it. You never know who can be trusted.

The autumn festival had swelled the population of Edios to nearly 100,000 people, one third more than its normal occupancy, and the streets were packed. Word had reached Randall’s ears that many of those in attendance were nobles and political leaders from Xerma and all he could think of for the last few weeks was how he could get a blade between the ribs of at least one of them. Randall had been called to this meeting rather abruptly and decided to enjoy himself for one more night. Secret meetings usually meant secret missions and sudden departure, so the previous night was filled with revelry and a rather acrobatic romp with a hero’s harlet. Sometimes being aide de campe to one of the most famous commanders in Bronen had its perks.

As Randall’s thoughts turned to the meeting ahead, he looked about the stark hallway. It looked like any other basement facility; its walls bare and its floor smooth stone, his echoed footsteps announcing his arrival. A few torches lit the place and near the end, by the door of the meeting room, he could make out a tall, well-groomed, figure standing in a posture groomed from many years of military inspections. The rigidness of the man brought a small smirk to Randall’s lips which he quickly dismissed as he got closer. The man, a half-elf by the look of his ears, stood a full foot taller than Randall and was obviously no stranger to battle from the look of his muscle-corded arms. The armor he wore was flashy, and obviously ceremonial and impractical from Randall’s knowledge on the matter. At his waist hung a very peculiar looking blade that curved violently like a sickle. His deep brown hair was shortly cut and accented by a stark white spot near the crown. He wore a closely-trimmed beard meticulously fashioned in the current style. His skin was a deep tan, almost earthy brown. A simple copper circlet rested regally on his brow. The man stood at ease with a stern expression on his face, his violet eyes staring off at nothing in particular. Randall could only assume that this was one of the men he would be working with shortly.

Randall gave the man a curt nod and found a spot against the wall opposite the door to stoop down. He pulled some papers from his bag and began going over them briefly while he waited. As soon as Randall had reached the peaceful monotony of looking over his reports, the man broke his silence with a clearing of his throat. Randall looked up from his work, slightly annoyed, only to find the stranger standing before him, a little too close for Randall’s liking.

“Yes?” Randall asked with an air that spoke directly for his wish to not be bothered.

“You are of the Sanguine Hawk, yes?” The man replied, his posture oozing evidence of years spent in drills and rhetoric, “The aide de campe, if your uniform does not lie.”

Randall glanced down at the blood-red hawk emblazoned above his campaign markers, its wings outstretched, and nodded, “That I am. Randall Quenton, aide de campe to General X, at your service.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, “I am Adalaat of the Song, Colonel of the Enduring Ravens. Your exploits are well known among the ranks.”

Randall grinned knowingly, rather impressed with Adalaat’s level of knowledge. “As are yours, Sir. Especially the show you put on during the siege of Saalcort.”

Adalaat smiled slightly, the first show of emotion Randall had seen on the large half-elf, and nodded. Before he could speak, however, the door to the meeting room opened with a creak and a lithe woman exited into the hallway.

“Colonel Adalaat?” she asked, “Lieutenant Colonel Quenton?”

Both mens’ respective nods were met with a note jotted onto a tablet the woman held. As Randall stood, he noticed that she was looking up and down the hallway curiously. With a shrug she turned back to the two soldiers.

“You may enter. The General is ready for you.”

With this she stepped aside and allowed the two men to pass through the door. The room itself was tiny by meeting room standards. Compared to the rest of the headquarters, it could readily be described as a broom closet. Two wall sconces lit the room and a candelabra was set on the center of an oblong table that took up nearly the entire space. Four chairs were set about the table, three to one side and a fourth at the head, facing the door. Before the chair was a water pitcher and a clay mug half-filled. As Randall entered behind Adalaat, he noticed a man standing at ease beside the chair watching them with great interest.

The man stood a full two hands taller than Randall and was powerfully built. His eyes gleamed with the light of a hunter viewing his prey, though his face showed well the years of battle and stress that those eyes had seen. His uniform was impeccably pressed and starched, and the ten-pointed star adorning his lapel identified him as a General of very high rank indeed. As Randall cleared the doorway, the man motioned for them to sit and then looked out into the hall as for another entrant. Seeing noone else, he frowned and said something under his breath before addressing the two men in attendance.

“I apologize for the sparse accommodations, men, but this is not a meeting I wish to be disturbed or accidentally eavesdropped on. There is one more that should be in attendance, but it seems he’s running late. We’ll wait a few more moments to see if he arrives. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Again, he motioned to the chairs and both men sat. Randall leaned back slightly in his seat and propped his right ankle on his left knee, drawing a look from both Adalaat and the General. Before either of them could say anything, the door opened abruptly and a figure blustered into the room.

The figure was tall, deathly thin, and obviously elven as his pointed ears were clearly visible sticking out from his shaved head. Upon his head rested an ornately fashioned circlet of braided gold and silver cord and around his neck sat an amulet with some sort of arcane design that Randall could not make out. He wore long, flowing robes the deepness and darkness of a moonless night and his ice blue eyes shone with a glint of the unknown. Obviously not a soldier, Randall thought. He closed the door and quickly bowed to each of the men seated, introducing himself as Sauryl Astellus and quickly sat in the remaining seat.

The General looked the newcomer over with some pensiveness, then turned his attention back to Randall and Adalaat.

“Now that we are all here,” he said with a slight glare at the elf, “I suppose introductions are in order. I am General Hugo Chapelle, head of the armed forces of Bronen and commanding officer of Edios.” He paused a moment before continuing

“The man to my right,” he went on, motioning to Adalaat, “Is Colonel Adalaat, of the Enduring Raven Company, noted member of the Order of the Song, and comes highly recommended by his commanding officer, General Y. To my left is Lieutenant Colonel Randall Quenton of the Sanguine Hawk Company, aide de campe to General X.” Again he paused, turning his full attention and an annoyed glare to the final man seated.

“Our tardy friend, as he said, is Sauryl Astellus. He has been employed by Bronen for some time now due to his very special field of knowledge. You three have been gathered for a mission that some would consider being slightly underhanded.”

Randall smirked at this and shifted in his seat, now sitting with his left ankle upon his right knee. This mission must be odd indeed to include someone so out of place as this Sauryl person. As he looked the elf over, Sauryl produced a straight pipe from his volumous robes and emphasized it to the General.

“My pardons, Sir, but would you mind if I smoked?” he said with a disarming smile.

“No, of course not,” the General answered, waving him off dismissively.

Sauryl nodded his thanks and lit the pipe with a snap of his fingers. The stench of the strange weed quickly floated through the room, causing Randall to turn up his nose and glare at the insolent elf. General Chapelle gave the elf a stern gaze as well and went on.

“Continuing on, we have called you here for a special mission. This information does not leave this room. As some of you many know, our land is currently at peace. It’s been ten years since the Great War and, with the exception of the intermittent run-in with a rogue undead or other beast, the central lands of Bronen are safe and secure. This is a problem.”

The General took a drink from his mug and refilled it from the pitcher, “Public opinion of our King is low. The populace sees him as lazy and ineffectual. Our recent open trade with Xerma and the Sultanate has also strained relations. To combat this, we have been sending select groups of qualified individuals into the borderlands to help quell some of this dissent.”

“Are we to create problems to solve, or simply to go and look for them,” Adalaat put in as soon as the General paused to take a breath.

The corner of the General’s mouth rose in a slight smirk, “That is for you to decide. The region is very close to our border with the Sultanate, and rogue undead have been spotted in the area infrequently. The government isn’t openly condoning you making trouble, but frankly we are willing to let you take the lead as to what needs to be done.”

Again, Adalaat barely waited for the General to finish before asking another question, “Where will we be staying, and what sort of supplies will we be given for this mission?”

Randall was starting to like this half-elf more with every passing moment. He was obviously a by-the-book type of person, but it was very apparent that he had no illusions of how the military worked in such situations.

“Publically, you will be going to take command of Fortress Draconus and oversee its patrols of the surrounding area. The fortress is positioned outside of the town of Draconus, on a hill overlooking the area. The current garrison is one company of around 200 men. Their orders are to patrol the area and deal with any uprisings of man or monster, as well as act as a police force to the town of Draconus and its surrounding villages.

Confidentially, however, we are worried that the Sultanate is getting too open about their slave trade through the region and may attempt to push their influence into our territory. You are being sent to not only take command of the garrison, but also to compose and complete plans to fortify the stronghold in the event of an invasion.”

At this, Sauryl broke into a short fit of giggling and was met with glares from everyone else in attendance. What a f*cking waste, Randall thought as he returned his gaze to the General who seemed about as pleased at the interruption as the rest. Sauryl quickly slunk down in his chair under the weight of their looks and the General continued.

“The second part of your mission is to ensure that the area is clear of any aggressive forces, either man of monster, which may be taking root. You are by no means, however, to cross into the Sultanate and cause trouble. Brenon is in no position to be declaring war on our neighbors as of yet. Any questions?”

The General looked around the table slowly, pausing with a look of contempt on Sauryl. Randall looked to each of the other two men before leaning forward in his seat and producing a pen and some paper from his bag.

“What sort of supplies should we expect to find at the stronghold? Are there any craftsmen of note in the region to help better equip the garrison?”

General Chappelle shook his head, “The region is strictly agricultural. The fortress is equipped with a stable and armory, as well as a smithy and workshop to repair what is currently in stock, but even the town of Draconus holds nothing more than your average blacksmith and cooper. The civilian labor force is adequate for your needs, but far from exemplary. You are free to requisition anything that you think you’ll need for your trip from here and it will be waiting for you when you reach Draconus.”

Randall made a few notes and nodded his thanks, then turned his gaze to the others at the table. The General waited a moment before speaking again.

“Colonel Adalaat will be your commanding officer on this mission. Lieutenant Colonel Quenton will be in position as executive officer, and Mister Astellus,” he practically spat the name, “will be going along as a specialist to assist where he can using his unique talents. Another will be joining your group in Draconus, as they are currently stationed there. You are scheduled to leave in two days."

At this, the General produced three small bags from his coat and tossed one to each of the men. "This is a bonus of 10 platinum stars each to help you prepare yourselves for this mission. Spend them wisely. If there are no other questions, gentlemen, then you are dismissed.”

Adalaat and Randall stood at this and saluted the General. Sauryl looked between them dumbly for a moment before realizing what was going on and standing in a hurry. Randall tried his best not to visibly roll his eyes and collected his things.

“Oh, one more thing,” the General added quickly, “Colonel Adalaat, I would like you to stay behind a moment, so that I can give you your direct orders and speak with you privately.”

Adalaat nodded to the General before turning to the others, “I will meet you in the mess hall upstairs at 0900 to discuss our mission further. I presume this will be enough time for you to get yourselves in order.”

Randall nodded sharply and left the room. Sauryl just shrugged. Randall waited a moment in the hall, his face a storm of annoyance and anger. As Sauryl exited the room, Randall motioned him over, out of sight of the door.

The elf sauntered over casually, “Yes? Is there something you – “

Fast as lightning, Randall reached up and grabbed the elf by the collar, pinning him against the wall, and then pulled his face down to meet his own.

“We’re in charge here, understand?” Randall hissed, his voice lowered but nevertheless filled with spite, “Don’t you ever f*cking forget that or it will be my personal pleasure to make your life a living hell.”

He held the elf's gaze a long moment before pushing Sauryl against the wall again and taking a step back.

“I will see you in the mess hall at 0900,” Randall told Sauryl before turning to walk away. As he headed down the hall, he turned his head back and added, “You better be on time.”

As his heavy footfalls echoed in the bare hallway, Randall could hear the elf scoff and adjust his robes before heading off in the opposite direction. Randall simply grinned and wondered if anywhere would be selling ale this early in the morning.

((edited 10/10 to fix incorrect descriptions))

Chapter 2: The Road to Draconis

As Randall entered the mess hall, he stifled a burp and grimaced slightly as he tasted his lunch of hunter’s stew and pale ale. The quarter-hour bell had rung some time before, so he assumed he was cutting it close to the 0900 meeting time. As he walked through the open double door into the hall, he found it unusually sparse. He made his way to the officer’s dining room and picked out Adalaat and Sauryl immediately. The two men were bantering back and forth about magical knowledge, so Randall sat without a word and waited for them to finish.

“Are you familiar with the Nexus Continuum Theory?” Adalaat asked with a grin on his face.

“Not entirely, no, but I have seen it mentioned in some of my research,” replied Sauryl.

“Well then what is it you do study, Specialist Astellus?”

“I am a disciple of the Void,” Sauryl began explaining, “I study the space behind the stars and seek answers to life’s questions there. Sometimes things answer me,” his voice began to trail off at this point and his eyes glazed over and darkened, “I’m not sure what answers me, but their answers are always right.”

Randall watched the conversation with mild interest, the buzz from his morning ale slowly fading with such intellectual conversation. Just as he began to lose interest, he realized that Adalaat was trying to get his attention.

“Well, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Randall answered sheepishly, “I didn’t hear the question.”

“I asked what it is you do,” Adalaat repeated, “What do you bring to the party?”

Randall smirked, “I was positioned as aide de campe and bodyguard to General X, Sir.
It was my assignment to handle the day-to-day workings of the company and protect the General on the battlefield.”

“So you’re competent in battle?”

“As competent as I need to be. Better than most by my reckoning.”

“That is a lofty claim, Lieutenant Colonel,” Adalaat grinned devilishly, “We should spar sometime.”

Randall returned the grin and nodded, “Indeed, we should.”

Adalaat nodded, then cleared his throat as the hour bell rang, “Well, since it is now 0900, I suppose we should get this meeting going. In two days we will be leaving for Draconus. General Chappelle informed me earlier that we will be teleported as far along our way as is safe with all of our gear. He also asked that our requisition list be filed post haste. Was there anything you think we’ll need for the trip, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“I have the requisition list ready,” Randall said, patting his attaché, “As for immediate needs, I suggest a couple horses and some trail rations. Possibly a tent or two as well. All of these things are on file in the requisition.”

Sauryl let out a short scoff, “Horses? I have spells that can take care of that. My phantasmal steed will carry me to Draconus.”

Adalaat gave Sauryl a sideways glance for a moment, “Do you really think it wise to spend so much of your power simply on transportation when we can get it for free? The town of Draconus and its fortress will be a week’s journey from the drop point and you will need to cast the spell each morning.”

Randall shook his head, “If the elf doesn’t wish to have a horse, then he won’t have one. Let his spells carry him where he pleases.” He looked Sauryl straight in the eyes with a stern glance, “Know that if something should happen, you won’t be riding in the cart with the supplies.”

The elf frowned slightly and pulled his dark robes around himself. Randall smirked triumphantly and leaned back in his chair, “So we’ll need one horse for Colonel Adalaat, one cart, a horse for said cart, and supplies for the trip. I’ll make the necessary changes to the requisition sheet and submit it by the end of the day.”

“Very well,” Adalaat nodded, “If there is nothing further, I haven’t eaten yet today and have a few things to look into before we leave. I will see you both in two days’ time.”
At this he stood, placing both hands firmly on the table, nodded to each man, then purposefully walked out of the room. Randall watched him go, then ensured all of his things were collected before standing and exiting himself, leaving Sauryl to watch the table alone.

@-}------ <> ------{-@

Randall counted what was left of his pay bonus and ensured his new potions were secured in his belt pouch as he entered the large teleportation chamber. He held the reigns of Comés, his trusted steed as she tentatively made her way into the chamber with him. The air itself tingled with magical energy and he could sense that Comés was unsettled by it. She had carried him into many a battle against many a foe, but sensing such a power source outside of combat must have felt strange to her. Randall, too, was unsettled by the amount of magic in the chamber. He was never magically inclined and viewed it merely as a tool to be used like anything else. He never made a point to learn magic, or even to make use of overtly magical items such as wands and staves that some wizards carried. His armor and weapons were enchanted, this is true, but it required no exertion of force on his part for them to function, and he liked it that way.

The chamber itself was expansive, stretching nearly sixty feet on a side, and well-lit. In its center was a 40-foot circle inlaid with runes and symbols that Randall, despite his very extensive knowledge of language, could only guess as to their uses. They were in the Draconic script, but broken down and reorganized in a way that was foreign to the language itself. In the center of the circle stood Adalaat and Sauryl, both carrying their packs and obviously equipped for a foray into the wildlands.

Adalaat wore the standard battle fatigues of the Bronen military, but no armor. At his side hung the same strange blade that Randall had seen on him at their first meeting. Beside him stood one of the army’s cavalry horses outfitted with a fine riding saddle.

Sauryl was adorned in his usual dark robes that seemed to absorb all of the light that neared him. His hood was pulled up and he seemed to be deep in thought. Randall was impressed to see a fine rapier hanging at Sauryl’s side; a jet black blade with a hilt of tarnished silver that seemed to gleam with an inner light and gave Randall an uneasy feeling the more he admired it.

Along with the three men, there was also in attendance a warmage outfitted in his dress robes. As Randall entered the circle, he nodded and began an incantation. The room seemed to blur and Randall could feel a pressure on his temples. Comés stamped the ground nervously and Randall calmed her by patting her absently on her muzzle. As the room continued to blur, it seemed to change and shift into a new form. The walls bled away into a blue horizon and four large pillars seemd to materialize from the earth. The ground outside of the circle sprouted grass and weeds, then began to sharpen. When the transfer had ended, they found themselves standing in an open field upon a dais the same size as the room they had previously occupied. The four pillars stood guard with torches set into them, but aside from the party, there was no sign of life.

“Is everyone in one piece?” Randall heard Adalaat say, his voice still slightly muted from the pressure on Randall’s eardrums due to the teleport.

Randall nodded and held his eyes shut for a moment to try and steady himself. He then looked Comés over, checking her tack and barding, and found her to be in perfect condition. As Randall’s hearing and sight came back into full focus, he realized that the teleportation dais not as remote as he had first thought. Just outside of the teleportation sigil rose the low buildings of a rather large town. A warmage was waiting with a smile on his face, obviously waiting to be noticed.

“I hope your trip went well,” he said snidely, “ Sometimes we have ‘unfortunate’ accidents, though that usually only happens when we teleport much larger groups. I believe you will find the supplies that you requisitioned in the warehouse behind you. I suggest leaving as soon as possible.”

The mage smiled again and bowed once before hurrying off into one of the non-descript buildings. Randall turned around to see the aforementioned warehouse sitting with its large double door held open and a fair-sized cart sitting at its entrance, a sturdy workhorse yoked into position. The group walked over and collected their equipment, Randall speaking briefly with the quartermaster to ensure that everything was accounted for. Having no need to stick around any longer, the three made their way toward the town gates, Adalaat in the lead, Randall astride Comés and leading the carthorse by its reigns, and Sauryl bringing up the rear and trying not to step in the messes left by the horses.

As they left the walled town, they could see the countryside stretch before them to the horizon. The road ran parallel to the wall, heading off to the east and west. The road stretched west to the horizon, but to the east it ran for a few miles and then turned around one of the numerous hills and disappeared into a rather dense-looking wood. He patted Comés reassuringly on the neck and looked to the rest of the party. Adalaat was already upon his own mount and Sauryl was chanting some sort of incantation, his eyes deep pools of starlit night. As he finished, a fog began to form and shape itself into a ghostly white steed. The elf clambered into its saddle and nodded to Adalaat, who returned the jesture. With Adalaat in the lead, the party started their way toward the foothills.

The wood seemed to near quickly, the shade of the trees casting a haunting gloom over the road as it entered. The tallest trees stood over sixty feet, their lowest branches at least twenty feet from the ground. Smaller trees were interspersed between them, but not much undergrowth grew in the dim light. The party rode for about an hour through the wooded hills over the road which curved and wound with the natural topography. Randall was a bit unnerved by how quiet their ride was. In the last few minutes he had noticed that it seemed almost too quiet, as though even the birds and beasts were holding their breath. That’s when they saw it.

About a hundred yards ahead, on the road, a very large humanoid shape lumbered down the road. Adalaat motioned for the party to stop and peered out to get a better view. Randall and Sauryl rode up next to him and did the same. What they saw made Randall suddenly remember that he had mince meat pie for lunch. The creature, about the size of a hill giant had obviously been alive at one point, but no longer held the semblance of its former self. It’s skin was pulled taut to its skeletal form, as though it had been dried in the sun. The beasts chest was torn open and its ribs splayed outward, revealing it’s innards and forming a prison of bones. As it neared, Randall could see a small ghostly form trapped within the chest cavity, its face stretched into a painful expression. He also noticed that, while it lumbered as though it was walking, the creature’s feet never actually touched the ground.

“By the Void,” Sauryl gasped, “That’s… that’s a devourer. Whatever you do, don’t let it get close enough to touch you. It’ll consume your very soul and hold it in that ribcage prison.”

Adalaat and Randall looked at each other, then to Sauryl. Randall unslung his bow, Firebane, a finely crafted shortbow of white oak, enchanted to send a painful chill into any arrow nocked on it. Sauryl dismounted and dismissed his phantom steed while Adalaat and Randall guided their horses to positions along the sides of the road.

At this moment, the devourer must have noticed the party because it let out an unearthly piercing howl and ran off to the wooded borders of the road. Adalaat cursed aloud, but Randall merely grinned. As long as he could see the foul abomination, Firebane would hit its mark true. He nocked an arrow from the quiver at his side and felt the chill of the bow flow through the shaft.

Before he could loose the missile, Randall heard Suaryl make a quick incantation as a bolt of lightning shot past the group and into the woods, followed by an unearthly howl as it found its mark in the devourer’s side. The monster shifted to one side, revealing itself between the trunks of the trees and Randall took this moment to his advantage. Fast as the bolt from Sauryl, Randall fired three arrows in quick succession toward the undead beast. They arrows weaved and veered between the trees, finding their marks in the hide of the devourer. The first two dug deep into the creature’s chest and a grimace of pain came to its face. The third bounced off its unnaturally thick hide and ricocheted harmlessly into the forest. Adalaat maneuvered his mount into a better position and began gesturing wildly as he spoke a few arcane words and motioned toward the devourer. As soon as his spell was completed, a thick, ochre-colored fog materialized around the creature, blocking out most of its body and opening foul blisters on its remaining skin. The foliage that fell within the cloud quickly shriveled and died as the acidic fog burnt everything it touched.

The devourer howled in annoyance and anger and glared in the direction of the party. With a quick crouch, it peered to the sky and took off upward, flying up over the canopy and hovering in the air some forty feet or so in the air above where it had stood. Adalaat frowned and shot Sauryl an angry glance.

“Why didn’t you tell us it could fly!”

Sauryl gave his commanding officer no heed and quickly began the gestures of a spell. Pushing his hands forward violently at the devourer and shouting a final arcane word, a strong gust of wind blasted from his open palms, swirling up at the monster and pushing it back a bit. The devourer struggled against the powerful gust and howled in frustration. Randall grinned at the immobilized foe and let loose a second volley of arrows. This time each one hit the beast hard and dug deep into its flesh, turning the surrounding flesh blue with cold. Adalaat shouted in anger at the creature and released a bolt of pure lightning from his hands that shot skyward and clipped the devourer on its right shoulder, sending it spinning out of the river of wind.

The devourer quickly recovered and looked down at his opponents a thoughtful moment before flying downward at a steep angle and landing on the ground some fifty feet ahead of them on the road. Sauryl followed the beast’s downward path and began mouthing the words to a spell, his hands moving in a serpentine motion and his eyes deepening to dark, starlit pools. No sooner had the devourer touched the ground than the area around it erupted in a mass of thick, black tentacles that struck out and grasped wildly for it. They struck the beast numerous times, but could not seem to get a firm hold on it. Randall moved Comés around to stand between Suaryl and the devourer and unleashed another volley of arrows on his now grounded foe. Two bounced off its tough flesh, but the third hit home in the creature’s side. Randall looked pleased as he lowered his bow from his last shot and surveyed the damage. He glance over to Adalaat and saw him sitting in his saddle calmly observing the battle. Fitting for a commanding officer, he thought, Suaryl and I can handle this ourselves.

The devourer let out a violent scream that made Randall wince slightly at the sheet agony of it. As it roared, it trampled through the tentacles straight toward Randall and Sauryl. Randall quickly slipped his bow over his shoulder and drew his rapier, Spellguard, from its scabbard in one smooth motion as the devourer ran past him. As it neared Sauryl, it swing its mighty fists down in a murder stroke and slammed into the elf’s chest, almost smashing him into the ground. Sauryl took the blow with obvious difficulty and slammed one of his fists into the monster’s stomach. Where he hit exploded into a small empty hole of darkness that slowly shrunk before bursting into black wisps of smoke, causing the devourer to grunt loudly in discomfort. Seeing that the beast was distracted, Randall pulled Comés around quickly and buried his blade three times into the devourer’s spine. Randall held the final blow in and twisted the blade wickedly, causing the large creature to arch its back wildly before falling to its knees. Randall could feel the devourer shudder one final time before collapsing. Its body began to fall into a pile of ash, the ghostly visage of the soul trapped within escaping from the lifeless heap with a sigh; a relieved expression on its face. Randall wiped the gore from his blade and resheathed it with slight flourish as he looked back at where Adalaat sat on his horse. Strangely, Adalaat was not mounted, but walking toward the two others from the direction of the black tentacles. Quickly mounting his horse, Adalaat rode toward the others and nodded his thanks.

“Good work, men,” he said with a nod to each, “Shall we continue?”

Randall and Sauryl nodded, the latter hobbling over to the cart and taking position in the driver’s seat as he cast a quick spell to close his wounds. The party set out, leaving the memory of the devourer in a pile of ash that began to slowly blow away in the autumn breeze as it fell out of view. The town of Draconis was still a few days ride ahead and the sun was setting fast.