10th Sypheros

10th Sypheros Drenlin’s Ferry early morning

When Pazenga returned from his scouting expedition, we heard a tale we would have been hard pressed to credit had it not been for the butchered corpse of an emerald dragon cooling near our feet. Our gith martial artist informed us that a goblin army was indeed on the march. And a vast army it was, numbering perhaps nearly 10,000 strong. Far more than the fledgling nation of New Cyre could hope to repel alone. Worse still, they were supported by a winged crimson dragon even larger than the green that very nearly destroyed us.

Given the gravity of the situation, my companions and I felt it prudent to forego that night’s rest and journey on in the dark. We had only traveled a short distance when I noticed a side path that we had missed on the way to the bridge. Our warforged warrior, Zed the swordsman, insisted we follow the path and see where it led. I thought this to be utter foolishness with an immense host poised to crush New Cyre. After a brief debate we chose to divide our fellowship, with the slowest members continuing on to Drenlin’s Ferry and the fleetest departing for a short excursion down the mysterious path.

So it was that the tireless Zed and the swift Pazenga were not with Bryanna, Elarin, Shard, Jorr, and I when disaster nearly over took us. Two bizarre and twisted nightmare creatures leapt out of the marsh with savage hunger in their eyes. The two Xoriat spawn wore bodies much like frogs, save that their eyes were on stalks like those of a snail and in place of front legs the hideous beasts bore two tentacles with fanged maws. The teeth of the beast on the left tore into Elarin leaving him bloody and dazed, backpedaling for his life. Rallying Elarin plunged his spell-charged sword deep into the thing‘s chest. The alien frog on the left was severely wounded but seemed to care not one whit. Elarin would have been slain by the fell beast's counter attack but for Bryanna’s timely use of her healing wand. Had the elf swordsman fallen the rest of us would have quickly followed. The other toad-thing lashed at me, but I was able to hold it off with my combined powers of healing and illusion. I loosed my Phantasmal Assailants spell and it overwhelmed the weak mind of the unwounded frog-monster causing it to flop to the ground stunned. Freed from the burden of defending against two opponents, the five of us tore into the remaining creature, Shard and Jorr with physical attacks and Bryanna, Elarin, and I with magic. With one beast slain we turned on its stunned and helpless mate, slaying it without mercy. Both creatures dissolved upon death, lending support to my theory that they were creatures of Xoriat. After taking a brief moment to heal the worst of our hurts, we continued on our desperate flight to Drenlin’s Ferry, praying to the Host that we should encounter no more such horrific creatures.

I was to find out later that our two missing allies encountered a creature far more dangerous than the Xoriat-frogs. Zed and Pazenga followed the trail to a small cabin in the forest. Inside they met a huge werewolf, an aged human knight cursed to take the shape of a man-beast under the light of the full moon. Had the mighty creature been as belligerent as the Xoriat-frogs our two warriors would almost certainly have been slain since they carried no weapons of silver and would not have been able to harm the thing. But fortune was with them for the ancient creature was an old enemy of the goblinoids and only wished a chance to fight the horde. In some cases the ancient adage really is true; the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Pazenga gave the lycanthrope a healing potion to relieve its arthritic pains and promised it that it would bring me back to attend to its health.

When Bryanna, Shard, Elarin, and I finally arrived in Drenlin’s Ferry we were exhausted and staggered into the village in the direction of the inn. Two guards of the Drenlin militia intercepted us and escorted us to village elder Wiston. I told him of recent events and then headed to the inn for some overdue rest. I declined to enter a debate with the man and simply told him what happened and went to my rest. Host forgive me but I was far too tired to suffer unbelieving fools.

When Pazenga and Zed finally arrived in Drenlin’s Ferry they woke us from our brief nap and we all headed down to the common room to meet with Speaker Wiston, in hopes that we could secure an audience with the entire body of village elders. As Zed had shrewdly predicted, Wiston was skeptical about the presence of dragons in New Cyre. When Zed drew out the head and wing, doubt fled and fear took its place. We requested that they send their non-combatants; women, children, and oldsters to the capital with all haste. After a very brief discussion we withdrew and met back upstairs in our room to discuss our next move. We briefly examined our options and it was decided that our best move was to attempt to delay the goblin vanguard as long as possible so as to prevent them from slaughtering Drenlin’s defenseless refugees. Before we had a chance to set out, we heard the familiar, if distant, howling that warned us of the presence of our current canine adversaries; worgs and hellhounds. Even nearer we heard the also familiar stomping and clashing of arms that presaged a goblin attack.

My companions and I burst out of the Inn and poured into the street. The hobgoblin foot soldiers were nearly upon us by the time I gained an unobstructed view of the street. We heard shouting in the distance that spoke of the Drenlin militia engaging the worg cavalry. Pazenega and Zed boldly strode into the center of the street to check the hobgoblin line of advance. But before the foot soldiers could close with my courageous friends, I loosed the most powerful spell I have mastered thus far, a spell of slowing. This spell is actually able to alter time, making its victims move haltingly as though mired in bog. With this powerful spell disabling the hobgoblin elite foot, I retired from the battle and let my stalwart companions take the field without me. Zed led a daring charge deep into the hobgoblin lines. This would have been folly save for the inhibiting power of my spell and quick action by Elarin. As it was Zed was nearly encircled by the elite hobgoblin swordsmen and worse he faced their leader, a swordsman whose skill rivaled Zed's own. Spying the threat posed to Zed by the goblinoid swordmaster, Elarin targeted him with his searing fire ray spell and the hobgoblin reeled in pain. Zed exploited the painful distraction with a series of blows that the hobgoblin swordmaster was too weakened to fend off. Meanwhile Pazenga sprang upon the single hobgoblin spellbinder like a hungry panther and dealt him a nerve punch to the neck that left him nearly senseless. As the spellbinder was staggered under the hailstorm of blows dealt by Pazenga, Zed finally delivered a mighty blow that separated the swordmaster's head from his shoulders. Elarin engaged one of the elite foot soldiers at close quarters to protect Zed's line of retreat. Pazenga continued his brutal assault on the hapless goblinoid sorcerer never giving him the chance to cast a spell. When the spellbinder finally fell, the hobgoblin's will to fight broke and my allies were able to easily defeat those that would not flee.

As I tended Zed's "wounds" the remnants of one of the mixed worg cavalry and hellhound units charged our position. I had prepared for just such an eventuality and began casting the second of my time slowing spells. In my estimation the canine elements of this cavalry platoon were more dangerous than their tiny goblin leaders and so I selected them as the targets for my spell. The majority of the dog-monsters began to move very slowly and thus, once again, I withdrew and allowed my more physical companions deal with them. Now there were just too few in the platoon to be a credible threat to combatants as skilled as are my compatriots. Even so, the fire-breath of the hellhound was at first problematic but soon he fell with the others.

This time we were sure that the battle was over and so we began to gather weapons and other valuables from the slain. Before we could do little more than organize, a three headed horror flew into view above us. The distincitive lion, goat, and dragon heads left little doubt what this creature was: a chimera. Like the green dragon before it, this creature was extremely agile in flight, putting the lie to the supposition that such creatures are too heavy to be deft fliers. The creature's dragon head breathed burning cold breath upon us, most unlike the searing flame we expected. In the air this creature would have represented a serious threat to us and if it had arrived while we engaged the goblinoid ground forces we might have been slain. But alone and unsupported it stood no chance. Elarin drew upon his considerable mystical powers and hammered the thing with four fire rays in rapid succession. The chimera's wings were horribly burned and therefore it eschewed distance attacks, instead landing and engaging us at close quarters with its many heads. Very foolish as this just brought it within reach of Zed's deadly adamantine blade. Like a grim woodsman, our warforged soldier began hacking off the chimera’s heads and in short order the thing was slain.

Now that we have defeated the immediate threat we must make a final decision as to the best and safest way to apply the unique powers of our company to thwart the impending goblin invasion.