Please bear these things in mind:
1) THIS STORY IS 100% FICTIONAL. It never happened. Most of Nullin's tribulations are shorter than this is going to be. I just always seem to be on at the wrong time. Work sucks. heh.
2) I am not a professional writer, so some grammar will make you cringe. Unless someone sends me $20,000 so i can quit my job, my writing will be a hobby.
3) My apologies to JenWa and Gillim if their characters are not totally correct. JenWa might be a bit stern and Gillim a bit grumpier than usual, but it works.
4) Holy crap, I got carried away again. If you have read Nullin's backstory you know what I mean. Sorry about the length, it was only 10 or so pages in word
5) I had it looking super nice in word with pictures and everything but not everyone has it (but they should). If you want the word version let me know and I can send it to you.
6) I haven't even started the second chapter yet, so if SD DM wants to pick this up here that would be cool. I can fill the DM in on the outline of the plot and they can go from there if they want (and have the time to).
Oh well, enjoy and I will post additional chapters when I get the time.
Golden Crowns
A Shadowdale Tale
Chapter 1
The sounds echoed eerily on the road, creeping out of the darkness like an unseen predator. The three figures rode onwards, their reactions as different as each of them looked. One figure road out front, the others following side by side.
The figure at the back and to the right was almost as wide as he was tall. His face was rough, like it was hewn from rock. A well-groomed and bountiful beard sprouted from his face and flowed down the front of the plain brown cloak he wore. He was obviously a dwarf, complete with a large axe strapped to his back. His mount was a mule, which seemed to groan under the weight of rider, armour, and axe. The bearded figure looked unaffected by the sounds of the night. In fact he almost seemed to be sleeping, a barely perceptible snore escaping his lips. His name was Gillim Greybreaker, a Glen dwarf and fierce warrior.
On the left mounted on a brown chestnut coloured mare was obviously a human female. Her cloak was dominated by forest browns and greens, the hood pulled forward, hiding her fair features within. Although she rode well, to the discerning eye her posture remained a little strained. The hood moved slightly to the left and right, scanning the moonlit darkness to either side. She was nervous this night, and as she glanced at the diminutive figure that rode at the front, her mood did not improve. This was lady JenWa, a renowned spell caster and magical practitioner.
If the two figures in the back never elicited any stares and second glances, the one in the front surely would. Being a gnome he was shorter than even his snoring companion, but his stature was quite the opposite. He rode with a straight back and outthrust chest, his gaze sweeping left and right, almost daring anything to attack. His pate was bald yet he had a meticulously groomed moustache and goatee, both a brilliant white. Unlike his companions he wore no cloak, preferring to let the world around a good look at his armour. His armour was polished to a brilliant sheen, and to hear him tell was also blessed by the god he worshipped. To all he met he introduced himself as Sir Nullin Glittergem, a Crusader of Helm.
The glowing armour was what drew the worried look from Lady JenWa. Normally it w as minor nuisance to those traveling at night. The constant light made looking into the shadows that much more difficult, and elicited much unwanted attention. Lady JenWa kept her vigilant inspection of the forest on either side of them, her frown deepening. She considered asking the small Knight to don a cloak but she changed her mind once she realized that she had never seen him with one. In fact, she doubted he even owned one. He had never covered up his armour, a fact that he was willing to proudly boast to any that asked. She once again looked at his back and gave a slight smile in spite of her fears. Nullin was not blissfully ignorant of any dangers that lurked in the shadows; he simply thought that the three would easily deal with any dangers that appeared. As she resumed her scanning of the darkness surrounding them she hoped with all her might that he was right.
Sir Nullin Glittergem did not fear anything that would leap upon unsuspecting travelers in the dead of night. The simple fact was that he was not afraid of anything. People had a hard time accepting this, and an even harder time dealing with it once they saw it was true. Most assumed it was simple egotism, or perhaps a stubborn vanity to admit fear. But in reality his life had so utterly changed when he was much younger that he was simply unafraid. He had his faith in his god Helm. His decades of training and fighting in the dark bowels of the earth where he grew up. His glowing armour, which he polished whenever he was able, kept him safe from harm.
These things kept his mind at ease. He knew one day he would die, but he simply refused to let the fear of death touch him. He did worry about Lady JenWa, she was brave, but she was not made of the stuff of warriors. Unlike Himself and the stout warrior Gillim, she was not used to fighting toe to toe with her enemies. She was most comfortable slinging spells and arrows from a distance. But she was quite sure that if battle was joined and it came to melee combat, he and Gillim would be able to handle it with ease.
As far as the snoring dwarf was concerned, he felt the same as the smaller Knight. He simply knew that if anything foolish enough dared attack them on the road then it was foolish enough to die. Horribly preferably, but he was not too picky. His greatest fear was that Sir Nullin, or even Lady JenWa, would get the lions share of kills. This he would not live down with his clan and brethren. His attitude about the gnomish Knight was gradually changing though. He had seen him charge fearlessly into battle many times before, a war cry to his god hurled forth before his blade bit deep into the enemy. Once he found out Nullin’s knight mentor was Dwarven it made it even easier to accept the unusual warrior as a skilled and worthy ally. The thing he most desired on this trip was a stop at an Inn for some fine ale and hot mutton.
As the group approached a narrow turn in the road Lady JenWa spurred her mount forward to fall in beside Nullin’s white war pony. The ever-vigilant Knight continued to swivel his head left and right, pausing only to smile at JenWa as she pulled her horse alongside his.
“Nullin,” She said with a nervous smile, “I again implore you to cover your armour with a cloak. You must understand that the forest here is most dangerous. Shining like a beacon may instill fear in your enemies, but it can also attract unwanted attention.”
Nullin’s head stopped moving once his gaze fell upon Lady JenWa’s face. “My Lady, tis of no import this lightful shell of mine. Let the attention of the evil abound in yon darkness slither forth like it oft does.” A slight smile spread across his face as he looked once again to the woods on either side of the small road. “I am quite certain that thy magicks combined with mine sword and Sir Gillim’s axe can deal with any evil that chooses to assail us.
Behind the two a sullen grunt was all that Gillim added to the conversation. She looked at Nullin, and then back at the still dozing Gillim and with a resigned sigh she reigned in her horse, falling in beside the dwarf once again.
Sir Nullin rode on in silence, his head still turning and his armour still shining like a torch. He did not fault JenWa for her requests at a covert journey. In fact, he had come to know the spell-casting woman very well in the months he had been staying in Shadowdale. It was far from his home, Jotruiwegan, in the Earthspur Mountains, but it was a quaint little town. Well, quaint as far as humans go that is. Like most Gnomes he preferred a Gnomish town to any other. Human towns were always so serious and somber unless a festive holiday had descended upon it, and rounds of mischievous pranks were unheard of. How utterly boring!
Sir Nullin, being a Knight of Helm, had sworn an oath long ago to always be ever vigilant against the evil that stalked above, and below, the lands. Of course it was one oath among many, but it was the principal one of Helm. Helm was called the Watcher, The Guardian, the Vigilant One, and many others. Most notably Helm had kept his powers during the times of troubles to keep the other Gods from re-entering the planes. This caused a fair bit of animosity from the other Gods, but his true followers had kept with the faith and stuck through the hard times.
Nullin had joined the order during a tumultuous time of his life and the oath he had sworn was taken to heart. He also had a stern but respected Knight Mentor during his squireship. This mentor was a Dwarven Lord and he kept his armour polished to a brilliant sheen. Sir Nullin had picked up on this and it was the primary reason his armour as just as dazzling. But unknown to all, even Sir Nullin, his armour also shone because his faith and dedication was beyond compare. Helm rewarded those whom served him well, and Sir Nullin was doing just that.
As they rode on in silence JenWa looked once again at the sleeping Gillim and a chuckle emanated from behind her closed lips. She was amazed that her sturdy companion had not yet slipped off his ornery mount while he slept. As her gaze traveled up his thick frame she noticed one eye was open and centered squarely on her. Gillim had sensed the unease in her voice and had been secretly watching her for the last while. As he lifted up his chin his other eye opened and his mouth bent into what passed for a smile among dwarves.
“Do na’ be too alarmed JenWa, yon holy boy be right. These ‘ere roads be quite safe from harm. I ‘ave walked ‘em before and escaped with naught a scratch.” As he tried to reassure the nervous woman his gaze took in the woods on both sides of the road. “We have been quite lucky to not have seen anything so far.”
JenWa nodded reluctantly but was still reluctant to give up her search for a more cautious trip. “I have heard such before Gillim, however, I have also heard tales of bandits and worse waylaying those who travel this road. I agreed to accompany you because there is a mage I wished to see at our destination. I also agreed on the reassurance of the both you that this trip would be a safe one.” She sent a withering look to the stone faced dwarf but Gillim simply grinned even wider.
“Lady JenWa, I can see ye’ are very anxious, but let me ask you something. If ye’ were a smelly orc waylayin’ honest folk on this here road, would you run out and attack some fool in armour like a sun at midday?” He asked.
She frowned and retorted, “Even though you may have a point, it does not make any sense to advertise your presence in such a foreboding place.” Her logic seemed lost on Gillim, as he didn’t even try to suppress a hearty chuckle.
“Lass, since when ‘as Nullin there done anythin’ accordin’ ta logic of any sort?” Nullin’s sharp gnomish ears had heard every part of the conversation, and when he turned at the insult Gillim’s chuckle erupted into a full-throated laugh.
Lady JenWa’s jaw dropped and she looked nervously around. She was starting to wonder if it was a good idea to accompany these two on this journey. Between Nullin’s armour and Gillim’s laughter she fully expected to see a full clan of orcs come charging out of the woods into their midst. She shook her head and once again resumed her scan of the leaf-laden darkness to either side, her mood unimproved.
Sir Nullin, on the other hand, was excited. Not because of the dangerous woods they were traversing, but because of what lay at the end of their journey. It began a few days ago at the Skull’s Inn in Shadowdale. Various occupants of the town were gathered around a table, enjoying an evening with ale and a traveling bard. The bard, Qalreoi Noqunow, was traveling through the dales on his way to Tilverton. Among the many tales and stories the bard was passing on, he also brought news from other lands. One tidbit of information was that a Lord close to the town of Tilverton had announced a great tourney. Many games would be held and it would run for days. Of course once Nullin had heard of the jousting contest he had insisted on attending. What proper Knight could ever resist the lure of a joust? Two combatants charging recklessly at each other with stout saplings trimmed and adorned with their banners.
Gillim expressed interest because these tournaments always drew in Armour smiths from all over. He would have a good chance of meeting some far off kin who would be in attendance selling the wares of his clan. Lady JenWa had wanted to visit an elderly mage living in Tilverton for some time, but had never found herself in the area. Although she balked at traveling with such lovers of battle as Nullin and Gillim, the need to see the mage overrode any apprehensions she had.
They were taking the southern road out of Shadowdale that led through the Cormanthor forest and then a small break in the mountains north of Tilverton. Although a short expanse of road compared with others, the wildness of the region was profound. The woods and hills they were passing through were infested with bandits and nomadic tribes of humanoids, mostly orcs and goblins. But some giants were known to call the mountains home as well.
An hour after JenWa had expressed concern with their route the road turned southeast. The road was actually close to the edge of the forest, but more merchants were waylaid out in the open than in the forest. More elves patrolled the forest that humans patrolled the plains close to the forests edge. Ashabenford, a town southeast of Shadowdale along the river, had a much safer road that led south and to Tilverton, but time was of the essence and they needed to get to the Lord’s manor as soon as possible, so the more direct road was the only option.
An hour after turning southeast the three faced a disturbing sight. Across the path before them lay a ravaged carcass of an animal of some kind. The remains were fresh, the heat of the strewn entrails giving off steam in the chill night air. Easily seen by the light off Nullin’s armour was a set of bloody footprints leading from the carcass to the left side of the road. They were small and the owner’s feet seemed to bare, smudged red dots leading each crimson print.
Nullin frowned and spurred his horse forward, his eyes even more alert than before. His sword escaped its sheath with a distinct ring and he slid his open-faced helmet on his bald dome before lifting his shield onto his left arm. He avoided the obvious footprints to the left side of the road and moved to the right, placing himself between the carcass and the dense foliage.
Gillim, being a dwarf, preferred the feel of solid ground under his feet whenever a fight was imminent. As he hopped off his obstinate mount he retrieved the great-axe off his back with a practiced flick of a powerful wrist. He raced to the far side of the road, right where the bloody footsteps disappeared into the thick undergrowth.
JenWa gracefully slid from her mount, since a moving horse was not the most stable platform from which to summon and release deadly magic. Her hands weaved in front of her in complex arcane patterns, leaving trails of colour. Her hands glowed briefly and she gestured towards the two warriors in turn, each of their forms outlined in blue for a scarce moment before fading. She recalled more sinister spells in her mind and braced herself, ready to aid in any battle that might unfold.
Save for the rattling of the bridle and tack of Nullin’s mount as it skittered about, the road remained silent. Nullin finally broke the tense silence.
“Well now, this is a bit of a conundrum. Yon corpse doth not be resplendent with the finely wrought signs such as we are oft used to. No arrows protrude from it’s hide, no telltale stink of goblin-kin. What dost thou make of it Sir Gillim?” Nullin asked with a questioning look on his face.
Gillim gave a indignant snort and replied, “What da I look like, some prissy leaf lovin’ leather wearin’ pointy eared ranger? Ask me a question like tha’ agin and I’ll be plantin’ ya on yer backside!” Gillim scowled and went back to looking stern and ready for a fight.
JenWa frowned and shook her head, “This is surely no predator upon a fresh kill. Even without the obvious tracks the slaughtered animal is to mangled.” She turned and surveyed the sill-steaming corpse before them and frowned.
Most people thought of Nullin as a knight who relished the fray of battle too much and too often. Although this was true to some extent, he lived and breathed smiting evil and chaos; it did not mean he was one-minded when it came to battling that evil. Many times he did charge ahead, sometimes recklessly, but only because he truly believed that his mission was full of such purpose that he would not, could not, fail. His training was extensive, and his experience above and below ground had taught him many things. One such thing was that evil rarely bathed. There were exceptions of course, but for the most part evil was simply too wrapped up in being evil to bother with things like hygiene and etiquette.
Other than their hearing the only other trait gnomes were famous for was their sense of smell. As Nullin surveyed the darkness before him his nose was also working hard. His pointy proboscis picked up an unfamiliar scent, and even though he could not tell exactly what it was, he knew it was not good.
Nullin chanced a quick glance over his shoulder at Gillim and looked at the stocky warrior. Among the races of Faerun the dwarves were the ones who knew the gnomes the best. Decades of living close to them below the ground attuned the dwarves to the racial characteristics of their smaller neighbors. Gillim knew that gnomes have an excellent sense of smell so when he too caught a faint whiff of the same odor he turned to look at Nullin. He was not surprised when he saw the gnomes nose twitching in between the faceplates of his sparkling helm.
“Oi! I caught a whiff ‘o it as well.” Gillim grunted, “Nuthin’ like I ever smelled afore. What in Clandeggin’s beard is it?”
Nullin took in a great lungful of air and frowned even more, “I hath not met this odiferous odor either as well.” He started snuffling, turning his head about. JenWa threw a quizzical look at the gnome, unaccustomed to such antics from the stoic knight.
The snuffling continued, “If I was to guess as to what it resembled. This offending aroma doth reminds me most of goblin-kin and mold. What a most puzzling scent. I daresay I hath not met this afore.”
JenWa was not only perplexed but a bit anxious as well. She was used to dealing with danger and battling with evil, but she was taken aback as she watched two battle-seasoned warriors discuss a fragrance she could not even detect.
“What in Mystra’s name are you two blathering on about?” She demanded.
Gillim attempted to console the confused woman, “Don’t be usin’ yer eyes and ears only lass. Ya gotta learn ta’ use more iff’n ya wanna hunt nasty critters.” His attempt at consolation failed utterly.
“I do not intend to hunt whatever it is you two are smelling,” she retorted hotly, “I simply wish to survive long enough to make it to our destination. Are you two finished? It is probably safer to move on before whatever it is that did this comes back.”
Gillim’s face melted into an expression of disappointment at this fact. With incredibly few exceptions, all dwarves loved a good fight. Nullin, however, wore an expression that was one part disappointment and one part concern. He too loved a good fight, but he was truly concerned that the creature that did this might harm others on the road if not stopped.
To Lady JenWa’s alarm and the two warriors delight, their decision was abruptly made for them. From each side of the road small dark figures erupted from the flora. They were a bit shorter than Nullin and had large bulbous eyes over a gaping maw of pointed yellow teeth. Each held a crude weapon and their bodies were festooned with makeshift sets of armour, mostly scavenged from ruins or long forgotten battlefields. Each one raised awful screeches and howls, like an infants cry stretched and mangled by foul unearthly winds. Along with the cries came that unmistakable stench that the three were discussing moments before.
Lady JenWa was the first to act, pointing at the air above her and mouthing a few magic syllables. A small pea-sized speck of luminosity launched into the air ten feet above them and hovered there erupting into a ball of light. This spell cast off all the shadows surrounding them and even outshone Nullin’s resplendent armour. In this glow the identities of the caterwauling attackers were fully revealed. Goblins.
Close to the underbrush and with his back turned, Gillim was the first to be assailed. A rusty short sword was thrust at his exposed back and promptly broke in half as the fragile blade met exceptional Dwarven armour. Gillim knew at once what opponent he faced and he howled in glee as he whipped around, his large axe whistling in the air. The unfortunate goblin quickly resembled his broken sword as the Dwarven axe cleaved his body in two. As the hewn goblin fell to the ground two more shapes charged the solid warrior, one from his right and one on his left.
Gillim smiled as he entered the fray fully. His momentum at peak, the dwarf continued to turn and made a full circle. He timed the strike perfectly and hit the nearest goblin, on his right, as it stepped in to strike at the spinning dwarf. It howled in agony and fell writhing on the road. As Gillim yanked his axe free the goblin on his left scored a few hits on his arms, but the wounds were superficial to such a seasoned combatant and Gillim’s smile only widened as he grabbed his massive axe with both hands.
Sir Nullin was rushed by three as well; all of these though came from his right. His mount turned and reared, its front legs flailing the air. One hoof struck a goblin skull with a resounding crack and it fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Showing uncharacteristic adaptation, the other two humanoids advanced on either side of the gnome. Nullin was used to mounted combat and while he held out his shield protectively to his left, his sword on his right gleamed in the harsh light. The goblin on his left struck repeatedly against the shield, using two hands and all the might he could muster. His attacks were useless against such a splendid shield and this left Nullin enough of a reprieve to concentrate fully on the other goblin.
The other goblin was being a lot subtler about his attacks, thinking he could easily outmaneuver a fighter on a horse. He was very wrong however, especially when a nimble gnome and war pony was his opponent. As Nullin’s sword tested the goblins defenses his mount expertly kept an eye on the goblin to the left, making sure it did not get too far to the rear of the pair.
Nullin had discovered many gaping holes in the goblins defenses but since he still heard battle being waged across the road he thought he should make it quick. He jabbed a quick feint at the green skinned skull and as usual the goblin overreacted, throwing his shield up high to deflect the blow. Nullin quickly withdrew the sword and made an expert thrust at the goblins chest. The small glowing sword sliced neatly through the ancient leather vest the goblin wore and found its heart.
As the humanoid crumpled to the earth Nullin turned his mount to the left and engaged the other goblin. The bulbous eyes grew wider as he saw the mount turn and he ducked reflexively. Nullin’s sword whistled above his head and the goblin thought it the perfect time to strike. He was used to fighting much larger and less skilled opponents so when he came out of his crouch, sword thrusting forward, he expected to see his opponent caught in the back swing and vulnerable.
Nullin, however, was a fair bit quicker than most and he played upon that in each battle he fought. He brought his sword back to the front and turned aside the goblins onrushing blade with a deft flick of his wrist. The goblin realized his mistake too late and was rewarded with the view of a glowing sword tip as it rushed in and pierced his right eye. The goblin fell immediately after Nullin’s sword found the creatures small brain, and Nullin turned his mount, ready to help his friends.
He saw that Gillim was straddling a corpse, working his axe free that was embedded in a goblin skull. He heard a strange zipping noise and turned to JenWa. She had grabbed her short bow shortly after the fighting began, preferring to the let her two bloodthirsty companions wage war toe-to-toe with the enemy. She had spied some forms lurking in the distance down the road. As the fight broke out these forms rushed forward, thinking they would find a helpless woman easy to overcome. Instead they found a deadly rain of arrows expertly fired by JenWa. Of the four that charged, she had taken down three, the other one saw the carnage that lay before it and very wisely turned tail and ran.
“Very well done everybody. I daresay we doth found the perpetrator of yon grizzly kill.” Nullin quipped happily from his mount. “A few more than we didst expect, but a good skirmish nonetheless.”
“Aye, it was lad,” grunted Gillim as he counted the bodies amidst the blood and entrails littering the road. “I wish we could ‘ave a bit more fun, but JenWa done chased off ‘ta only utter critter.”
JenWa cast a withering look at Gillim and acidly replied, “Well, if you like the next fight we have I can sit back and do nothing but tally the score. Maybe then you can get all the fun you want?”
“Oh I say, that would be most splendid of thee M’lady.” Said Nullin.
“Oi, that wud be most gracious lass. A fine offer I will be takin’ ya up on ta be sure.” Gillim added, as he leisurely wiped the blood and gore from his axe.
JenWa shook her head in disbelief and went to her horse to try to calm it after the sounds of battle made it a bit skittish. Nullin tidied up with a white cloth as much he could while Gillim simply used dirt to scrub off the blood from his armour.
JenWa’s mount was proving most troublesome. As the woman made calming noises and talked softly it became increasingly agitated. Gillim and Nullin paused in their actions and looked at the scene with puzzlement.
“Oi! Git yer horse settled lass, we can be movin’ on now.” Said Gillim, who had little love for mounts and always preferred walking to mounted travel. He looked to Nullin with a look of puzzlement in his eyes. Nullin returned the look and then turned his attention to his war pony. Nullin’s puzzled look turned into a frown as he looked at his mount.
Nullin’s horse, bred for war and battle, was a lot less skittish than most other mounts. But they did show signs of trepidation whenever they knew battle was imminent. Nullin noticed that his pony’s eyes were wide and his front hooves pawed the ground.
Gillim saw it too. “Wut be up with yer wee horse Nullin?” He asked, less annoyed and more concerned. Lady JenWa glanced at Nullin and his mount, her concerned look deepening as she did.
“I doth think it not be good news I am afraid.” Stated Nullin.
JenWa’s firm grasp on her reins could not hold forever and her mount bolted down the road as she lost her grip. Down the road in the direction the fleeing goblin had ran came a faint sound of large footsteps. All three of them slowly turned and looked into the darkness past the glow of JenWa’s softly glowing magical globe suspended above them.
Out of the inky blackness stomped a great shape. Its features were orcish, but the size dictated this not to be the case. It stood a full nine feet tall and was massive. His hands were the size of large dogs and its brow was sloped so far forward it cast a permanent shadow over its piggish eyes. Two yellowing tusks thrust upwards out of its lower jaw, the left one being broken and rotting. It wore armour, similar to the goblins they had just fought, but it was in much better condition. A massive hammer rested on its right shoulder and large boots festooned with spikes adorned its feet.
All three at once knew what they faced. Only Ogres grew to such size and proportions. The large brute opened its substantial maw and spoke with a snarling guttural slur.
“I am Gak! You will now die slow and long puny ones!” Its lips curled back into an evil grin and it slowly stalked forward.