Norgin Aftermath

Tonight I thought you might like a change from hearing about the exploits of Frostburn. I suppose they are a nice enough group, but they never have the decency to invite a bard along on their adventures, so all we ever hear are second or third hand accounts. Or worse, official reports, all carefully tidied up so they look good. Fortunately I know an adventurer who is, if not happy, then at least accepting of the fact that a talented bard wants to travel with him and record his exploits. Yes, that's right. Cal Threson has finally returned from whatever mysterious errand he had to go do alone. Though I tried appealing to his good nature, hoping to get answers on behalf of all of his fans, he remains immune to my charms and refuses to say what he has been up to. Personally, I suspect he offended the Royal Witch, sorry Mage Advisor again and ended up being turned into a rabbit for a few months. We ran into each other in Bellcross just outside Klendar's. And I mean that literally. I ended up with quite the bruise as I bounced off him and fell to the ground. He of course barely flinched. While he might not have the height or breadth of people like the Shieldbreakers, his 5ft 10 inches is still solidly packed with muscle. He at least had the good grace to help me to my feet, but I had to forestall his insincere apology as I was in rather a rush to avoid Lydia McGregor, head of the McGregor trading family. She had taken a totally unreasonable level of offence at a little ditty I'd put together a few days before and her people were out to get me. You haven't heard that one? Well I'll sing it later and I'm sure you'll agree it was a total overreaction on her part.
By a happy coincidence we were just outside the Stuffed Halfling, so I quickly dragged Cal inside insisting that he buy an early lunch to make up knocking me over. I was relieved to note that he didn't have his trademark weapon with him. It's a useful weapon,and Cal is a master with it, but a glaive is just too long to be carting around the city.
Getting a table wasn't any trouble at that time of day, and I was finally able to get a good look at Cal. I had hoped to see some new scar or other mark that might give a hint as to what he had been up to, but had no luck. He was just the same as before; soulful brown eyes beneath short brown hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in weeks. Even his plain brown leather armour looked the same. After several vain attempts to extract some information on what he had been up to, I moved onto where he had been heading to until he was fortunate enough to run into me. This at least was no secret as he had been asked to hunt down an escaped criminal, a Dragonborn called Orlin. The name was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it as I was more concerned with why Cal had turned from adventurer into a bounty hunter. His answer was, as ever, short and to the point. "Because the King informed me in no uncertain terms that if I didn't I wouldn't be getting any other contracts". His tone and the expression on his face were such that the server who had been bringing our ales turned away before she was half way to our table. I have warned Cal about his expression before. His strong chin and sharp cheekbones can make him look intimidating at the best of times, but when he gets annoyed his face alone is enough to make hardened soldiers quake in their boots. After resigning myself to the fact I would be fetching our drinks and food, yet again, I settled down to getting some details about this criminal we would be pursuing.
Despite his ill humour, Cal's memory proved as good as ever as he described our target. This Orlin, a tall, overweight green Dragonborn was wanted in Filishar for a whole range of crimes. Murder, inciting a crime, misleading the authorities, framing another person for his own crimes. It was was an impressive list culminating in escaping from the authorities. But none of this explained why Cal had been instructed to pursue him.
"He is supposedly too much for your average hunter". Muttered Cal. "His breath alone could knock out a squad, and magic gets a bit strange around him. With the trouble up north they cannot send enough men out to bring him in alive, and they really want him alive." I don't know why, but it was the mention of his breath that finally let me make the connection. This Orlin was, or at least had been, a member of Frostburn. Were we headed directly into confrontation with the entirety of that group? Of course not. I promised you a firsthand tale about Cal, rather than one about them. Orlin's former team had had him arrested and sent back from Shaon to Bellcross. It was during this journey that someone had knocked out his jailers and freed him. The forces in Shaon could not be spared to hunt him down, and the justicars could not catch up with Orlin before he left the Kingdom's boundaries. Which left hiring someone like Cal. And if you are going to hire someone like Cal you might as well go to the best.
After we had finished lunch, we parted ways so we could get ourselves ready for the journey. You will note that I haven't mentioned Cal objecting to my accompanying him. That is because he has learned over the years that I will sneak along anyway, and it's not worth the time and effort saying no. When we met up again at the North gate, I discovered that he hadn't changed the way he prepares for an adventure. Instead of a decent amount of supplies he had a few water skins and a tarpaulin.
The map Cal followed to get us to place where Orlin was freed was extremely accurate. So accurate in fact that it must have been prepared by the Court witch. There was a lot of effort being spent on this fugitive so he must have offended someone royally. It didn't take long for Cal to find Orlin's trail. It took longer for Cal to convince himself that it wasn't a false trail as even I could follow it. Clearly this Orlin character was not one for stealth or subtlety.
We were able to follow the heavy footprints and broken branches from our horses and made good time. Cal reckoned that we were a couple of weeks behind but would soon be gaining. When the trail began meandering, Cal pulled out his maps and declared that Orlin had been lost but was making his way towards a little hamlet known as Norgin. I wasn't sure how he worked this out but there was no way I was going to object to making our way to somewhere that might have a tavern or at least something other than rocks to sit on.
When we reached Norgin, we discovered the people there to be in some distress. Barricades of logs and debris had been erected between the hamlet and the nearby forest, and groups of farmers were standing guard. Cal dismounted and instructed me to do the same. His instincts tend to be quite good when it comes to dealing with such situations, so I bit my tongue and did as he asked rather than objecting to being given orders. When the villagers noticed us a small group armed with mattocks, hoes, and pitchforks hurried towards us, brandishing their improvised weapons.
"Who ye be?" Demanded the largest of the group in a thick accent that said louder than words how little this place saw outsiders. "Just travellers, hoping for some information on a person we are looking for." replied Cal in a calm tone. "Get out, we's no use for strangers" replied the burly man who had spoken first, before thrusting at Cal with his pitchfork. It was the pitchfork that was a mistake. Cal is normally quite polite and we probably would have turned away and avoided Norgin. But Cal won't tolerate anyone threatening or attacking him. As the pitchfork was thrust forward, Cal pivoted out of the way and stepped closer to the villager. Grabbing the shaft of the pitchfork he used it to pull the villager towards a thundering punch that dropped the villager to the ground. Leaning on the pitchfork, he glowered at the remaining villagers declaring "I am looking for an overweight green Dragonborn. Can any of you help me?" With no answer forthcoming from the rest of the stunned farmers Cal went on to say "Since none of you can help me find him then I trust you will not object to my going into the village to ask some questions."
While I wouldn't like to pass comment on the intelligence of these villagers, I have to say that they displayed a lack of common sense as three of them moved to attack Cal. The first thrust of a hoe was deflected by the sharp end of Cal's glaive, before Cal stepped in close, using his shoulder to knock his attacker to the ground. A swift boot to the side of the head then ensured that villager wouldn't be any more trouble. As the other two attempted to respond, Cal reversed his glaive striking one of them in the arm with the blunt end. The snap as the arm broke was clearly audible to all around. The last of the attackers was looking at his friend cradling his arm in disbelief when Cal's next block landed against his leg with another loud crack. I had barely started to call out a warning to the villagers when the fight was over, and Cal was leaning on his glaive and glaring (not at me for once). “The next one of your twits who tries to attack me isn't getting to wake up again.” growled Cal. “I want to speak to whoever runs things around here. And a drink. Where's your tavern?” Perhaps not the most diplomatic of statements, but the villagers took his point and some went hurrying off to fetch the local elder, while Cal was led to the tavern. The leader of the village turned out to be the tavern keeper, and once Cal had indicated that he intended to pay for a drink and wasn't there to loot the place, things became a lot friendlier. Well, they stopped attacking us at least.
Cal's careful questioning, aided by copious amounts of ale, revealed that our quarry had indeed passed through Norgin. Orlin had apparently walked in and tried to talk the tavern keeper into giving him a free drink before trying to get some information about the local witch. Cal's ears perked up at this. Witches tend to know what is going on in an area and often have ways of locating people. But before Cal could inquire about where to find this witch, our hopes were dashed. It was this Aunty Donna's disappearance that had caused Norgin to become such a nervous place as she had protected the village from a tribe of lizard folk. Orlin's visit had coincided with her disappearance so it was generally accepted that he had driven her away. With no-one to keep them in check the lizard folk were roaming the forest freely, and the villagers had all grown up hearing the tales of what the lizard folk had done before Aunty Donna arrived to save Norgin.
Cal being the softhearted fool that he is immediately offered to go out and deal with these lizard creatures. I subtly tried remind him that he already had a task to complete, but there is no stopping him when he sees people in trouble.
Quickly standing and downing the remains of his ale, Cal set out for the forest, only pausing to collect his glaive. Though I had no enthusiasm for heading into the forest, especially without even having time for a meal, I remembered that I was here to record Cal's exploits and had better go with him.
The woods were thick enough that we had barely gone 20ft before I lost sight of the village, but Cal pressed on along the narrow trail, only stopping occasionally to check a small depression in the mud, or something caught on a bramble. After 10 minutes of walking we emerged into a clearing and were confronted by a group of green, scaly, lizard like creatures standing on two legs. Some may wonder what the difference between lizardfolk and Dragonborn is. Despite the scales and teeth there is a vast gulf between the two. Quite apart from the superficial differences like the lack of a crest or the presence of a tail on the lizardfolk, their levels of intelligence and culture are worlds apart. The stupidest Dragonborn would be a genius among the lizardfolk, and most Dragonborn speak common. We weren't sure what these lizardfolk spoke as on seeing us they showed their savage nature and attacked without warning. I dove for cover behind a tree stump, quite ruining my cloak in the process, but Cal stayed out in the open, dodging or deflecting spears. At one point he even caught one of the spears, spun with it and hurled it back at its owner with enough force to pin them to a tree. When the creatures had run out of spears to throw they began looking at each other as if asking whether one of the others would be the first to charge Cal, who was leaning casually on his glaive inspecting his fingernails. After a few minutes of nervous shuffling, a smaller one of the lizard folk came shuffling out of the forest. Unlike the others of its kind, this one wasn't protected by crude leather armour, nor did it carry a spear. Instead it had an impressive amount of bone necklaces and bracelets and carried a staff. It was pretty clear that this was the tribes shaman, and it let out a few words of draconic at Cal. At this point I had to stifle a laugh as I suspected what was coming. Cal knows draconic as he has worked with quite a few Dragonborn, but he doesn't practice much. He fully lived up to my expectations when he announced to the shaman. "Look me green Dragonborn. Harm we you mean. Where you Donna? ". As a peace proposal it left a lot to be desired, and the poor shaman was looking very confused. Hoping to salvage something from the pause in hostilities I stood up from behind my tree stump and approached the shaman. I was just about to say hello when I was grabbed from behind and a spear was held at my throat. The scaly hands and rancid breath told me it was one of the lizardfolk that had captured me. Believing he now had the upper hand the shaman demanded that Cal drop his weapons. Heaving a sigh of exasperation Cal held his glaive out in front of him with his left hand and let it drop, but with his right he threw one of the many knives he keeps about his person. Much as I hate to admit it we had been in this situation before and I knew the best thing I could do was stand still until Cal's knife hit its mark. A wet thud was the signal for me to pull out of my captors loosening grip and get my own weapons out. Cal in the meantime had flicked up his glaive with one foot and was now holding it to the throat of the shaman.
Before Cal could cause more confusion with his mangled attempts at draconic, I quickly told the lizard shaman that we meant them no harm but Cal would slaughter all of them if they tried anything else. His display with the spears and the knife (and the blade held at the shaman's throat) convinced them to listen. At Cal's insistence the shaman dismissed most of it's warriors before the glaive was lowered. I don't think they went far, but since Cal certainly acted as if they had, finding himself a tree stump to sit on before putting down his glaive and gesturing for me to get on with the questioning. Through a heroic effort of self-control I refrained from pointing out how he had gotten us into this situation, and proceeded to translate his questions.
The shaman, whose name turned out to be something like Ithak, shared a slightly different tale to the villagers of Norgin. According to him the witch had been one who had ordered them to attack the villages several generations ago, before changing her mind and telling them not to attack. She even ordered them to allow some of the humans through the woods so they could speak with her. Now that she was gone, they were acting to reclaim their lands and keep out intruders. Cal's face had darkened as he heard this explanation and he began pushing for more information on what this witch looked like.
The creature that the shaman described was a humanoid female with long plae hair, splotchy skin and a profusion of warts and other blemishes on it's face. It was like hearing about a witch from an old folk tale. But this was reality and Cal was quick to jump to the only sensible conclusion. This was a hag, one of the creatures that stories about evil witches are based on. Old, powerful and dangerous, such creatures delight in causing misery and pain, or tricking mortals into causing themselves to suffer. The trick of gaining the villager's loyalty and trust by arranging and then stopping the lizardfolk attacks was typical of these creatures. But it seemed the hag had gone.
Even to a creature like Ithak who isn't good at reading human emotions, it was clear that Cal wasn't in the mood for delay when he began questioning Ithak about what had happened to Donna. It didn't take long to discover that Ithak wasn't totally sure, just that Donna had been driven away as a result of a rebellion, which turned out to be two rebellions, and what turned out to be an internal power struggle between Ithak, his former chieftain and Donna. I was fascinated by the glimpse into tribal politics, but Cal was keen on just getting the answers he needed. Cutting off any detours into the hows and whys of it all, Cal learned that our quarry had indeed been through here. His arrival had been taken as an opportuinity for two factions to rebel, and while some of the lizardfolk tried to slay Orlin, the rest focused on trying to take our the opposing leaders. Seeing those loyal to her wiped out, Donna vanished and hadn't been seen in the woods since. The chieftain was slain, and Ithak took over. Orlin slew many of the lizardfolk and fled.
With no direct leads and the threat from the lizardfolk remaining, Cal instructed Ithak to take us to their home. I choked a bit on that, as there is no way I wanted to see the lizardfolk layer, but faithful translator that I am, I passed on the message. I fully expected the shaman to refuse outright, and I wasn't disappointed. By this time, Cal's patience had worn a little thin, and what little diplomacy he can muster was exhausted. The shaman had barely goten his refusal out when Cal was picking him up by the throat and threatening to rip his stomach out through his mouth in graphic terms.. In common of course, so the poor little shaman had no idea what was being said. The threat however was clear, and in moments Ithak was babbling that he would be happy to take Cal to their lair.
Cal continued to scowl as we made our way through the forest towards the lizardfolk lair. This didn't exactly help my attempts to engage Ithak in conversation as he kept glancing back nervously at Cal to see if his answers offended. I was fairly sure we were being shadowed by the rest of the lizardfolk we had encountered earlier, though I didn't see any sign of them until we reached their lair. This turned out to be a big let down. I was expecting a dank cave, or maybe the ruins of a lost temple. The sort of things I normally get to see when accompanying Cal. All this was was a small clearing and an old cottage.
As we entered the previously empty clearing,a dozen or so lizardfolk came out of the trees, all armed. While I looked for the nearest cover, Cal strode to the centre of the clearing, dragging Ithak along. With the arrival of his people Ithak regained some of his confidence and called for them to attack. Even Cal was surprised by this and he was a little slow getting out of the way of the first of the spears that came flying his way, taking a wicked slash along his left arm. Ithak was properly repaid for his actions as Cal swung him around as a shield against further spears.
You needn't think that I was simply cowering behind a rock during this fight. As a matter of fact it was a log, but I also began to get my bow ready. While I admit I'm not the best shot out there (and Cal has warned me never to shoot near him) there were enough targets out there that I figured I should be able to hit at least one of them.
As Ithak went limp from the spears he had taken, Cal dropped him and charged the nearest of the lizardfolk. Leaping into the air, Cal kicked the first lizardfolk in the chest, knocking it to the ground before landing in a roll and ducking behind a tree. A further flight of spears slammed into the tree before Cal re-emerged, glaive in hand. A downward stab as he passed the prone lizardfolk ended one threat before he made his way over to the next, using the trees for cover. Realsiing they were vulnerable alone, the lizardfolk closed in on Cal, forming a circle around him. If they knew anything about him, they would have realised this was playing into his hands, but perhaps fortunately my works are yet to become popular amongst the monstrous races.
This circle of lizardfolk also made my shooting easier, and against all expectations I managed to land an arrow on one of the creatures. Not the one I was aiming at, but a hit is a hit.
Cal was in full flow at this point, dodging and deflecting the blows from the lizardfolk. There are times I wish he could be a bit more flamboyant in his fighting, to really make it look good, but at times like that I am more glad for the efficiency in his fighting. Every move is just enough to avoid a blow. Each strike either lands or creates an opening for the next. Even as I tried to take aim for my second shot (I missed), he had felled two of the attackers. With Cal now closely engaged with the creatures I decided against using my bow further, and insteead started getting my healing supplies ready. Although I was tempted to yell a few insults, I restrained myself as I didn't want to become a target.
Peering over my log I could see that Cal had snapped the spears of two of the lizard folk, and managed to leave another 3 of them on ground bleeding. With their numbers swindling, the remaining lizardfolk turned and fled and Cal was left leaning on his glaive and trying to catch his breath. Once it was clear there wouldn't be any further attacks I emerged from cover and offered to bind his arm. Aftre that was taken care of, we made sure the lizardfolk on the ground were really dead before having a quick look at the cottage.
A small single roomed dwelling, it had clearly seen better days. It looked like the lizardfolk had vented their anger at hag on the building. Furniture had been smashed, the doors broken in, and the contents of several barrels strewn over the floor. With no clues to be found about our main quarry, Cal was forced to go hunting around to see if he could find any tracks. From what he discovered, it appeared that Ithak had been telling the truth about the infighting in the tribe, and fortunately he was also able to locate some traces of Orlin. I was all set to take a break, but Cal insisted that we needed to move on with our hunt.
We had been travelling along a dirt track for several days when Cal abruptly reined up with a curse. Further up the road was a figure with grey hair and grey robes that glittered with metal and gems. Only one person would be standing on a muddy road in that getup, Ester the Royal Mage. My reaction was much the same as Cal's. Whenever her royal witchness appears it means trouble. We were both tempted to turn around and head back the way we came, but the trail led in that direction so we reluctantly made our way forward. Ester was as charming as ever, with her welcoming “Where have you been? You're needed in the capital.”
I could hear Cal's teeth grinding from 6ft away as he replied, “We're hunting a wanted criminal. By the king's degree.”
“Well leave that to the loudmouth,” I kid you not, that is what she had the gall to call me. Loudmouth. “Leave it to the loudmouth, and I'll take you back to Bellcross. King's and General's orders.” At this she waved a piece of parchment with the seals of both.
Cal turned to me to apologise, but even as he did so, Ester grabbed his arm and the two disappeared, leaving me with alone apart from two horses. While I considered continuing to pursue Orlin on my own, common sense prevailed and I returned here to regail you good people with tales and song. As for what Cal was dragged away for? Well you'll just have to come back tomorrow night for that tale.