Hit and Fade

Temple Ruins,Trakar Swamps, 8th April 1655

As the Fionath warriors laboured on the defences, their scaled faces pale with fear, Gorfang stomped around the complex with a face like thunder. He'd wanted deeply to match himself against the hydra, feeling it an opponent worthy of his metal, but Méabh had (he felt) snatched the kill from him with her magic. His mood remained dark until he remembered the description of the Red Lizard. This cheered him up. Now this was even more of a challenge....

Lynien, meanwhile, was considering options as she often did. Perhaps we should throw in with them? she thought to herself. She looked around, and shook her head. The sea of bloodlust around her wasn't going to leave that as an option.

Further investigation under the water in the Powerstone Hall had located a small hoard, collected by the hydra from failed robbers and political enemies consigned to its' home by Yassukhir and his predecessors.

Méabh requested a cut of the gems - which Lynien was collecting whenever anyone didn't object - and ended up with a 500gp black pearl and a 600gp alexandrite.

Over the next twenty hours, Méabh regularly used the Hall of Sight to observe the approach of the Red Lizard and his troop. This observation paid off, giving several useful insights.

• As night fell on the first day, the troop camped. The camp was far more like a human or orcish one than a feral lizard one; effective piquets were posted and constantly moved, the troops rested in shifts, food was cooked.
• As the last rays of the sun disappeared from view, the red Lizard called his followers together. With the exception of the guards, all stood respectfully in front of him, heads bowed, as he spoke and gestured in some ritual manner. A religious ceremony? Perhaps.
• The next morning, the troop moved on. A few hours after setting off, they were intercepted by six more lizardmen, of more normal feral type. Seeing these 'normal' lizards looking like wimps next to the Red Lizard's warriors reminded Méabh of just how big the latter were. The newcomers treated the Red Lizard with enormous respect and deference, bowing and listening attentively as he spoke to them. Apparently satisfied, they turned and trotted away. Méabh dashed off to the Hall of Hearing and by a herculean effort, managed to hear them talking as they headed out of range; she picked up the one word, "Mengis".

Eloy wondered if the magical fan token he had would blow the dust of the yellow mould Méabh had collected over their foes, but the sorceress reminded him that the Identify she'd cast had specified it only worked on water.

Finally, around three hours from the ruins, the lizardmen camped again. The companions fell to discussing what they would do next. Gorfang's avowed objective was to go out and assualt the camp in the night. His plan was to get in as quickly as possible, kill the Red Lizard (he was quite confident of his ability to do this) and then all his followers. Classic orc tactical thinking; to the average orc commander, abandoning a defensible position for a straight frontal attack in the face of superior numbers was a perfectly normal decision. One of the reasons why, for all their numbers, orcs don't rule Alair...

No-one else was very taken by this idea. Méabh refused flatly to go. Eloy, though stating that he would go and fight shoulder-to-shoulder with Gorfang as he always did, was of the opinion that they would die doing it even if they managed to kill the Red Lizard. Lynien was horrified at the idea of such an attack - leaving an escape option was second nature to her, and this win-or-die business was not her thing.

DM Note: Lynien's best guess for the correct skill to persuade an orc was Animal Handling. This made the DM laugh like a drain.

With skilled negotiation, and the use of some serious feminine wiles, the young tiefling managed to persuade Gorfang that a hit-and-run strike - with a chance to clobber the Red Lizard en passant - was a much better idea. Grudgingly, Gorfang accepted the idea. He was by no means stupid; he knew, deep in the heart of his brain, that they were right; but the generations of screaming bloodlust built into his soul were hard to override. Eloy relaxed his grip on his magical battleaxe; his and Lynien's second option had been to club Gorfang unconscious and keep him restrained until the next morning...

With the revised plan agreed, the strike team prepared themselves for the attack. Méabh remained adamant that she was not going, and Bog and Uruk elected to remain behind as well. So it was Eloy, Lynien and Gorfang that saddled up and rode out into the darkness just before midnight.

Around an hour after they'd left, Méabh stood in the Hall of Life and regarded the pyramid. Her mind was turning through plans. If I can get it downstairs, I can lash it to a riding lizard, cover it with something, ride out now, I'll be well away by the time they get back... She reviewed her available spells, and came to a decision. Shaking her head, she turned her back on the Crismyrlor and stalked out of the Hall.

Crouched around the warg Shamlakh, at the very edge of darkvision range, the three regarded the Red Lizard's camp. Half the troop were sleeping, with the other half spread out as guards in groups of three. The Lizard himself was seated near the fire, fully armoured, and another lizard who looked like some kind of second-in-command was equipping himself with similar metal armour nearby. A few whispered words and some hand signals, and then Gorfang slid onto Shamlakh's back as Lynien vanished into invisibilty and slipped off to the side. She was carrying Méabh's longbow, borrowed for the occasion; the sorceress was more inclined to use her Lightning Bolt for a missile weapon these days anyway.

Eloy huddled in the dark as Shamlakh moved off. As the only creature in the area not possessing Darkvision, he couldn't see anything not lit by the lizards' campfire. Never mind, he thought, if anything goes wrong, I've got my flute... Slowly he moved forwards until he could see the nearest group of guards.

With a rush, Shamlakh and Gorfang bounded past the guards and into the camp, springing over sleeping warriors on a dead line for the Red Lizard. Arrows began to whirr through the camp from some unknown source.

Eloy was up and running. As he did so, he realized a spin-off benefit; all the guards were staring after the orc rather than looking at him. He grinned, and flung his fire-bombs.

Struck from behind, two of the guards yelled in pain and shock as flames raced across them. The sudden blaze lit up half the camp and darkened rest, and Eloy used the shadows as he raced across the edge and headed back towards the swamp. Two throwing knives left his hands in a flat arc and a lizardman cried out as one struck home. Then he was back in the cool darkness outside the picket line, dodging and jinking to spoil pursuit or aim.

Gorfang, reaching the centre of the camp before anyone could react, flung his two flasks of alchemists' fire at the two leaders and grinned cruelly as the flames washed over them. Spurring his warg, he rode between them, striking right and left as he did so and scoring two wounds. The unknown leader was still trying to don his armour and had no weapon to hand, but the Red Lizard spun as the pair passed and struck back with his battleaxe. Gorfang swayed violently in the saddle as his helmet saved his life again and blood rilled down his forehead, and then he was past.

He continued along his path, heading straight for the guards at the far side of the camp. These were ready for him, and they exchanged blows as he rode past. One flailed badly, opening his guard dangerously, and the orc riposted savagely, carving his head off. Then he was gone, riding away into the dark swamp as yells of fury rose from the camp.

No pursuit was sent after Gorfang; no lizardman or riding lizard could have caught Shamlakh. Six lizardmen set off after Eloy; but after a couple of minutes' running he had gone to ground so effectively that they went right past him and he was able to slip away.

Packing her bow away, Lynien slipped silently into the trees. A few minutes quiet walk brought her to the rezendvous. Gorfang was already there, cursing quietly at his wound, and Eloy straggled in covered in mud a few minutes later.

Satisfied with their night's work, the three mounted up and headed back to the ruins in the swamp.