Eugene DeEssart

Background
Essart hailf originally from Piken Port. His father was a locksmith and he learned his fathers trade until he left to follow the Comte de Treville (not really a count at all but a title that de Treville paid for). The Comte owned several ships and made a good living as an importer and exporter. For some reason the Comte took a liking to Essart and took him under his wing. Unlike most boys his age, Essart could read and write and could do basic accounting which made him an ideal clerk for the Comte. As he got older Essart began to accompany some of the Comte's ships on their trade missions to keep track of the goods and ensure proper accounting and delivery. After several years he became a competent sailor, but never grew in rank any higher than a deckhand (probably because the crews don't like the idea of the Comte's man holding high office on the ship as well).

About three years ago, Essart was on a trade ship, the "Brine," sailing somewhere when they were attacked by pirates. The Brine's crew were able to repel the boarders but the Pirates responded by firing on the Brine and sinking her. Essart and a few others survived by lashing driftwood into a rough raft and paddling to a settlement they could see in the distance. That is how Essart came to Lands End. The other crewmen left as soon as they could, but Essart, for reasons unknown to any (possibly including himself) decided to stay in Lands End.

Since then Essart has scraped by a living as a trader, locksmith, and occasionally fisherman. Many in town including Sheriff have a mistrust of the foreigner. They think he's lazy because he doesn't work the ground or the sea for his living instead buying supplies from the rare trader that passes through and then selling them to the villagers months later when the goods are in short supply. Either way it makes him a living and gives him lots of free time.

Essart leads a fairly minimalist life, subsisting on fish and bread with few personal possessions. His house is more of a storage facility for the hay, tobacco?, wool? he buys from the farmers until a trader comes along. His only lavishness is in his dress which he models after the Comte de Treville, wearing a velvet vest over a linen shirt and breeches and a fine heavy cloak of deep green along with his sword and dagger. He only deviates from a proper gentleman in his choice of leather riding boots which he finds far more practical. Around his neck he wears a dragon's bony talon hanging from a plain leather necklace which he claims brings him good fortune.

His new ambition to found a merchant trading company of his own.

Flute from a Fiend
M. Essart spends the morning at his usual table in Kraken Heads. He breakfasts on bread and cheese while fiddling with what is left of the Carrion Crawler's rib bone.

Those who pass his way see a long thin cylinder, about an inch in diameter and approximately 20 inches in length. For the last few days, Essart has been slowly and methodically boring a hole through the center of the cylinder. Having completed that, he now painstakingly measures and remeasures the shaft, referring to a battered handwritten book and marking the cylinder at precise intervals with charcoal before boring the fingering holes on what is now obviously a flute.

The process is slow, as Essart takes great care not to crack the bone and ruin a weeks worth of work and the valuable rib bone (Valuable in that there is not enough of the rib left for a second attempt).

Twine and Tune
I rose early this morning, breakfasting on bread and cheese which seems all I eat of late. Regardless I threw some things in my rucksack and head for the Testy Titty. I still hate that name; a vessel like her deserves a better name. It's wasted here in this harbor. Maybe one day we can crew her properly, or at least sell her. She'd fetch a fine price in any civilized land--outfitted or not.

On my way to the docks, I took a detour and stoped by Paddam's new forge. I need some engraver's tools, and spent some time explaining to the smith exactly what those are. After a brief explanation I pulled my notebook from my rucksack and showed him a page covered in drawings I've made of the tools I need. We came to an agreement on price and that was it.

Hopefully he finishes them soon. I have a little bone left from the Carrion Crawler and an idea for a wonderful piece. I don't know how well bone will work as a medium, but it worked suprisingly well for the flute.

At the thought of the flute I caught my hand reaching for my rucksack. "Not here," I tell myself, "it's been too long, and I'm sure I'll need to make some adjustments."

Bone was definitely not the best medium for a flute, but something had felt right about it. Unlike normal bone, the Crawler's rib was not porous but smooth. That was what had first given me the idea to use it for the body of a flute. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure it's a rib at all--wasn't the Crawler covered in chiton? Did I find any other bones when I was cleaning that mess up? I can't remember. There's a head scratcher if I ever heard one. I'll have to ask Simon if he knows.

When I got to the TT, it was a mess. It's hard to believe I just cleaned this thing last week. I go about my chores, swabbing the deck, checking the sails, inspecting the bilge, and re caulking some of the boards. All in all the TT is in surprisingly good shape, if covered in bird dung.

With the rest of my time before lunch, I gathered all the extra hempen rope on the ship and began to split it, rolling the resulting components into balls of twine. It was a shame to have to do that, but the ship needs hammocks and nets more than it needs rope right now. If we are to journey by sea, we'll need both. Now if only I had a shuttle and gauge I could get started on that, but a search of the ship hadn't turned up either. Damn pirates. How could a ship this fine be so poorly outfitted?

Lunch was bread on the quarterdeck along with half a pipe of tobacco. I'm going to run out of soon at this rate. Hopefully I can get more next time I leave town. I doubt Pilbur has much left and I don't think any of the farmers are growing it, damn them. After lunch I did what I'd been waiting a week to do and took out my flute. Something about the smooth bone seemed almost magic as I put it to my lips and began to play. Smooth bone--I really need to talk to Simon about that.

At first I thought the flute was off key, and it sounded a little flat. But as I played it was almost as if it "tuned" itself. I know that sounds ridiculous, it's not a lute or a harp, just a solid piece of bone. But that's what it felt like.

I don't know how long I played, or really what I played, but it felt so good. It's like something had been missing from my life and I didn't know it. Like an old friend returned from the grave.

I can't quite describe it, but the music filled me like never before. I could almost feel it flowing through my body, a rejuvenating force imbibing my blood with energy like I'd never felt.

When I finished, I felt whole in a way I never had before. The melody completed me in a way nothing else could. And in spite of the hard work I'd put in all morning, I felt amazingly well. Almost as if I had gotten a full nights rest. It was then I noticed the sun had long passes its apex and had begun sinking in the sky. How long had I played?

"No time to worry about that now," I said to myself, "If I'm going to eat tonight, I better get started." With that I took my fishing rod and tackle from my rucksack and cast my line.

Music as Muse, and Ship Shape
After a long day of cleaning the TT and an evening of fishing, I slept in this morning. I woke just before noon, and lunched on some sardines and bread.

In the harbor it's hard to catch anything much bigger than sardines. Still, three or four make a good meal, and after I cooked them last night, I preserved them in salt and oil. Last nights catch should last a couple days at least. Still, I'd kill for some eggs or a nice tasty sausage. Hens and pigs are cheap, it's just housing and feading the damn things that is so expensive. They also need to be cared for and that's too much of a bother.

Too bad Urbest beat me to the farmers. It would have been nice to own a farm, if just for the eggs and meat. No use crying over what never was though.

I've thought a couple times about just purchasing some land, clearing it, and starting my own farm, but I don't know the first thing about any of that. Too much trouble to learn too. And with as expensive as laborers can be that's impractical too.

I wonder if I can convince someone else to do the work? There's a thought. But whom? They'd have to be industrious enough to do the work but meek enough not to want the proceeds. I don't really know anyone like that--yet.

Regardless, after lunch I went to the inn to see Simon. He'd never heard anything like the feeling I'd experienced yesterday. Not from playing music at least. He said it could just be joy, or maybe I'm getting lightheaded. I told him that wasn't it and then he said something to stop me in my tracks.

"Well," he told me, "it does sound a little like the feeling I get when I use magic. Mind you I've never heard anyone channeling magic through a flute before, but now that I think of it, I heard a story once of a man who claimed to be able to do it with a lute. Afraid I can't be much more help than that."

Or at least it was something to that effect. I'm not as good at recalling conversations as the raven priest. Still I can remember the gist of just about every story I've ever heard, and for the record none of those include magic flutes.

That reminds me, I forgot to ask Simon about Carrion Crawler bones. I'll have to do it tomorrow.

Anyway, after borrowing a book from Simon on magic focuses, I took up my normal spot by the fire in the Kraken. It'll be nice once the dwarf finishes my engravers tools, but until then I've got other things to occupy myself. I spent the rest of the afternoon whittling a shuttle out of a block of wood I'd taken from the TT yesterday.

It's a jury-rigged mess, but it'll do the job. At least until I can afford to get the blacksmith to make me one of iron or a potter to make one. The ceramic ones are the best, but they're easily broken. If it weren't for the weight of iron I'd prefer one of those for the durability. Until then, this wooden monstrosity will have to do.

Tomorrow I'll cut a gauge and get started on those nets and hammocks. For the rest of the evening though I might just smoke a pipe and read Simon's book.

Humming and Weaving
I was up before the sun today and off to the Testy Titty. I ate some bread and a hard cheese as I walked. I really need to get some more supplies. It seems all I eat these days is bread.

When I got to the TT I checked the mooring lines before recovering the rope and twine I had worked with earlier in the week. I then walked the deck until I found a nail that had come partially out of its home and tied off the end of my twine. For the entire rest of the day I used my jury-rigged tools to weave nets to use as hammocks and for fishing.

With the rest of my time before nightfall, I went to the inn and spoke with Simon about magic focuses. He was very interested in my flute, so I showed it to him and even played a few songs for the common room. He wasn't sure if Carrion Crawlers had ribs.

Bolt from Above
Yesterday was a mess.

Late last night, or was it early this morning? either way, I found myself being helped by two men I couldn't pick out of a crowed to the Temple of Erathis. Gods, I remember thinking, It can't be that bad. If they're going to bury me don't do it here.

The next thing I remember, I was laying on a table, looking up at the ceiling, one man holding my legs, and another laying across my chest. Vaguely, I realized that someone had stripped my jerkin and shirt from my torso. Eldric Siguardson came into view, and I felt a slight pain in my side.

I realized what was happening half a second before it did. Pain like I have never felt rolled over me as Siguardson ripped what was left of the crossbow bolt from my chest. There was a brief second of relief, then there was only blackness.

Urbest's Rabble
Essart curses slightly under his breath, and steps back into the shadows of the nearest building.

"I knew I should have paid more attention to that lout after the tavern incident."

Trying to recall everything he'd learned since he began investigating Urbest's affairs, Essart stows his pipe and surveys the crowd looking for a friendly face. He notices snaps standing on a barrel not to far away, but that's it. Hood up and sticking to the shadows, Essart draws as little attention to himself as possible as he moves behind Snaps, "This probably isn't the best place for us to be right now. I'm not sure I could talk us out of this if anyone noticed we were here. We may want to head to the Kraken."

Essart takes one last look at Urbest before turning on the spot. "I hope There is something we can do to help Orland. I was starting to actually like the man." After a brief pause, he looks over his shoulder at Snaps, "You coming?"

Hearing Snaps hiss over his shoulder, Essart falters. Eugene DeEssart had never been a favorite of Sheriff Orland's, and Orland had done everything he could to let the man know it since he came to Lands End three years ago. Still, he had helped the guild on more than one occasion, and tonight it was he who needed help.

Gods what am I doing? The thought only flashed across his mind for an instant, the next thing he knew, Essart was standing atop a barrel next to Snaps. If he hadn't been standing next to the halfling, Essart would appear a slender man of slightly below average stature. Wearing linen breeches and shirt under a velvet jerkin and wool coat he lookes the part of a young noble. At least a noble who has come across hard times. Conscious of this, Essart rests his left hand upon the pommel of his rapier giving off an air of total relaxation and openes his big mouth.

"Friends, hear me!" came a booming voice he barely recognized as his own. Was it his own? Upon a brief moment of reflection he realizes his and Snaps position seemes perilous at best. It was only now upon scanning the crowd again that he saw Paddam and Willard. At least we're not entirely alone.

"I said hear me!" the voice that was not his own said again. It was a command this time, demanding the attention of the crowd.

Blast me, how did I get here?

"Fellow citizens of Lands End, do not let yourselves be swayed from what you know to be rightious. Urbest speaks some truths, yes, but what he leaves out is just as important!

"Many of you may know him as the man who lent you coin when times were hard. But I'd wager an equal number of you may know him as the man your still paying interest to for that kindness. I also imagine that some of you who sold your businesses to the man when times were bad, did so at a loss, and even today would prefer to have your business back. Urbest claims he did these things for the love of our great town, but show me a transaction where he didn't come out ahead--if you can find one. As always, the man is out for his own good.

"Remember friends how only a few weeks ago we were afraid to leave our palisades?" Essart continued, not knowing where the words were coming from, "How Aroth, Crispan, and Halloway disappeared in the forest? How at night the woods were spotted with goblin campfires? How we were starved of timber and game?"

Essart briefly pauses here, not knowing exactly why, but seeing the crowd attentive to his words he knows it was the right thing to do, "And who faced that threat? Who did what must be done? Who braved the Goblins and the Orcs? Orland did!

"Of course he didn''t do it alone. He had help. My friend Snaps here was among those brave enough to go with him," and with that Essart gestures to Snaps standing near him. Gods help me, if I'm going down for this, it's not going to be alone. ''

"And when she disappeared,who rescued Omellia from the sky-blind tower? Was it Urbest? Was it you? No, Orland did that too, again with help from my friends.

"Urbest would have you believe that these missions were failures, but I ask you have any more been taken? Even now isn't Lands End flush with timber? Have some of us been reunited with loved ones we thought were lost? I tell you, we are better off now than we were a week ago, and next week we will be better still. Who has been at the center of all these great successes? Orland!

"My friends, Orcs have always been a danger, as have Goblins and pirates. But Urbest makes it out as if we are being raided every night. Our town has faced challenges before and overcome them together, and Orland has lead us through those times. Let us not abandon him now. I know many of you are scared, but life in Land's End has been better in the last week than in the three years I've lived here. It seems a shame to turn our backs on one of the men that made that happen. My friends and I are happy to do what we can to help, but that man there has been with us every step of the way, And I for one will not turn my back on him because Urbest says to. Nor will i turn my back on the men who helped him."

And with that, Essart felt the voice leave him. What in the name of the nine hells possessed me to do that? Trying to remain calm he takes in the reaction of the crowd.

The crowd stirs. All eyes fixed on Essart, a silence falls upon them. Then one farmer, child in his arms, shouts out. "Urbest offered me a loan against my farm when times turned bad then foreclosed when I missed one payment because my wife was ill. That lying no-good piece of Duegar dung just wants us to make him mayor so there's no one left to keep him from owning every last pebble in this town!"

And so a ripple becomes a wave as people begin shouting at each other. About 60% seem to either remain uncertain or be against unseating Orland, while a solid 40% or so seem to be whipped into an irreversible frenzy, some going so far as to arm themselves with pitch forks and rakes. Stomping, chanting, those caught in the middle get pushed back and forth as the crowd nears the verge of violence.

Dismay on Urbest's face, he is trying to shout at the crowd and get them back but the crowd has become too discordant for him to be heard.

Orland, meanwhile, steps down from the podium and through the gate, walking back up to the top of the hill where the town hall is located.

Barley and Oats

 * Brokered the deal for prohibition's end and the exclusive sale of beer once lifted.

Pool's Closed
Chapitre un: Les pirates et le chenau carrion

(translated)

An unexpected development has occurred which could change all my plans. Yesterday I came into possession of a letter written in the Comte de Treville's own hand and sealed by his crest. The letter appears to be a missive to the Captain of the pirate ship that has been basing out of Pot O' Greed Island. At least that's whose possession it was in when we discovered it.

I suppose it would make more sense to begin at the beginning and go on through to the end. Yesterday, some of Land's End's more idiosyncratic residents and I convened. We intend on establishing the Land's End Brewing Company (home to the world's first and best IKiA), but to do so we need to end prohibition in this god-forsaken place. Luckily, I was able to convince the local constable to give us an exclusive license to produce alcohol in the area. All we need to do in exchange is convince an emissary of the Tiefling Empire to come to our little corner of the world and investigate the Goblin threat.

Unfortunately, the nearest Tiefling Emissary is in 100 miles away in Wing Tower. Sheriff Orland did mention another option though. Apparently Land's End is a direct holding of the Baron of Begtar Keep. As tax-paying citizens, the Baron should be duty bound to send an emissary to Land's End to review the threat. Luckily, Betgar Keep is significantly closer to Land's End than Wing Tower. Unluckily, it's still at least 30 miles through difficult terrain.

That only proved to be a problem for a few minutes. After a brief inquiry with Simon the Historian, I did learn that Betgar Keep is on the coast, and naturally, my first inclination was to requisition a boat and sail to the keep avoiding the mountains and the dangers associated with them. This proved more difficult than I originally anticipated.

The pirates of Pot o' Greed Island have made life difficult for the fishermen of Land's End, but now they directly barred our ambitions in establishing a brewery. They had to go. It was with that intention that Thaddius Hollowhorn, the Halfling Warlock; Baltoris, the Woodelf Ranger; Willard Soggybeard, the Halfling Monk; Finrell Daergel, the sneakiest Gnome Wizard in the world; Mahesh the Half-Hearted, the master of ravens and Half-Elf Warlock, Paddam Aram, the new Dwarf Cleric in town; and I set out to find Dockmaster Sobek.

We found the dock master and through some quick negotiations and the shameless use of the sheriff's scabbard on my part, and 20 gold as collateral from one of my companions, we were able to convince the cur to let us borrow his boat. That is if you could call the run-down dingy a boat. It was more like floating firewood lashed together by twine with a sail made of Sobek's undergarments and far more rust than a wooden ship with no iron fittings has any right to possess. This "wood rust" was so bad that it took the combined efforts of Paddam and myself to unstick the rudder.

After pestering the cur Sobek for some oars, we set off at night fall for Pot o' Greed Island. The trip wasn't precisely pleasant. With seven of us crammed in the tiny "vessel" maneuvering the ship was not the easiest of tasks. Add to that that Paddam rowed at a better pace than Willard, and I had the rudder almost full port the whole trip to keep us moving in a strait line. Regardless, thanks to my expert seamanship, and the strong arms of my compatriots, we reached the Island just before dawn.

We beached blaggard's at the south of the Island, taking cover in a nearby grove of fruit trees. The master of ravens then sent his bird Rosencrantz, carefully illusioned to look like a seagull, out to scout the island. Rosencrantz returned to tell Mahesh that nothing was out of the ordinary and only one pirate lay sleeping in the sand at the center of the island. Baltoris took up a position with a clear vantage point of the slumbering pirate and nocked an arrow. With Willard and Mahesh holding back with Baltrois, the others and myself approached the pirate.

I took the initiative and nudged the pirate awake with my boot. He stirred and engaged us in conversation. I tried to reason with the man, asking him if he would like to have a drink and discuss his situation. He acquiesced and began digging in the sand for his rum. That should have been my first clue that something was amiss, but blast me i let the ruffian get the drop on us. The man screamed a scream that would freeze devils in their tracks and suddenly we were beset on all sides.

Baltoris losed his arrow but it missed its mark, but in one fluid motion I drew my rapier and struck home. Though my blow struck true it was the last of the luck I would have for the day. Some talisman or charm hanging from the blightard's neck redirected my steel and instead of striking the man dead I merely wounded him. surveying our situation I took the opportunity to retreat from the front line to a cabin where I could better help Baltrois and the back line. Just then I heard a piercing whistle followed by a giant explosion behind me. I glanced a look behind me in time to see Mahesh blow a man I presumed to be the pirate captain off his feet. Before I knew what I was doing, I was rushing at the nearest pirate and flinging my rapier like a moron in his first battle. Needless to say I made a fool out of myself and stuck the point straight into the earth. That's the last thing I clearly remember before Paddam revived me. It seems the rest of the fight went well, although Thaddius received some pretty bad knife wounds.

As soon as we had regrouped we made straight for one of the empty cabins to rest. It was at that point I realized we had added to our number. Apparently, the others had taken one of the pirates hostage. Although the thought of interrogating the ruffian appealed to me, I thought it more important to scout the rest of the island first. The company, therefore left to search the bodies and the second cabin less Thaddius who remained behind to guard the prisoner.

Upon approaching the second cabin I heard an exclamation behind me. I turned to see Willard confronting Baltoris over the dead captains body. It seemed he caught Baltoris trying to pocket something from the dead man. The commotion brought the others and myself around, and Baltoris sheepishly produced a parchment. As he began to read from it, my head began to spin. When he finished I took the missive from him and reread it to myself.

It unmistakably bore the crest and handwriting of the Comte de Treville. My hand shook as I read the words, and I could feel the blood leaving my face. Le Comte orchestrated the attack on the "Brine". I don't know why, and I don't know if he intended to sink the ship or not, but I believe the pirates we faced yesterday were the pirates who sank the "Brine", and they are now in Le Comte's employ to keep others from finding the cargo. As far as I know we were carrying nothing more than wheat and wool down the coast. There must have been something more valuable aboard if le Comte were to go to such extremes. But what?

Regardless, after making a thorough search of the island, my companions and I turned our attention to the pirate's ship. A quick investigation proved nothing amiss as we approached the gangplank. After we searched the deck we moved onto the interior. Imediately I knew something was off. Hammocks filled the middeck.leaving me to wonder what could possibly be below deck to make the men sleep up here.

Here my memory fails me, it was about this time that Rosencrantz arrived and the raven master regailed us with the story of how Thaddius released the prisoner only to be imediately stabbed in the belly by the man a second time. Thaddius killed the man of course, but we all got a good laugh out of that. Regardless We called Thaddius and Baltrois to join us just as the smith knocked down the door leading below decks (I won't regail you with the troubles we had getting that damn door open).

Bursting forth from below decks was a gigantic creature I had never before laid eyes on, and hope I will never see the likes of again. It had the body of a centipede but was taller than a man and had dozens of testicles protruding from around its head. It lunged for Willard and a fate worse than mere death seemed to await him. He briefly struggled to put up a fight, burying his shortsword deep into the worm's belly, but then it seemed all life left him. I charged at the beast, attempting to bury my rapier at the base of its neck, but my footing failed me and I ended up flailing about atop the monster; riding it like an unbroken stallion. The rest of the battle is a blur but I believe Paddam ended up turning the crawler's head to pie.

In the hold of the ship we found a treasure chest filled with 1,400 gold pieces and seven magic items yet to be identified. We then sailed the ship back to Land's End. The return voyage was significantly faster. That cur Sobek tried to charge us 10 times what that dingy he loaned us was worth. I ended up giving him 20 gold from my own pocket, but he still demanded more. I don't know what the demented fool was thinking. We're going to do a more thorough search of the ship today and probably name her as well.

Battle of Land's End (the 1st)
Chapitre Deux: La Bataille Des Land's End

(translated)

I arrived at the East Gate in time to see Baltrois, Orland, Berrian, and Urbest gathering to discuss our situation. Looking out over the fields to the East of town, the treeline was teeming with Orcs and Goblins. Nearly thirty or so by my estimate, and we were but five. Seven if you counted Longspear and Riverward on the palisades, but when the fighting began, they would prove more than useless.

As we were discussing our plans for defending the walls, Two trebuchets rolled out from behind the trees. Merde. Our only solace, was from this distance they didn't appear to be manned.

As our situation began to sink in Paddam arrived, adding one more to the defenders. We began to discuss a plan, when two spearmen stepped forward accompanying the biggest orc I had ever seen riding atop what was obviously a warhorse. As he came near the town the Orc dismounted, handing the reins to one of his attendants and crossed his arms.

Finrel arrived and, like an idiot, I went out with the gnome to "treat" with the Orc. As we got closer, the sheer size of our adversary truly became clear. He was seven feet tall if he was an inch, and armored head to foot in plate armor that seemed somehow to reflect no light. To his side was a gigantic warhammer with intricate engravings in what appeared to be faded Orcish script.

As we approached he began speaking in Orcish. Gods, I thought, ''It's been years since I've had to speak Orcish. The last time must have been on the docks of Piken Port.''

He called himself Bonebreaker Dorokor. After a brief discussion (all discussion's with Orcs tend to be brief) I had the gist of their demands, and Bonebreaker permitted us ten minutes to discuss them with our compatriots.

Finrel and I returned to the relative safety of the "walls" and I recounted the conversation to everyone. Bonebreaker wanted Land's End to pay the Orcs 150 gold pieces a week as tribute, else they would fire the farms and destroy the town. "Couldn't we ask to negotiate better terms?" someone asked.

"There is no Orcish word for 'negotiate'" I told him. "Well, there is, but the same word could also be translated as 'to seige' or 'to extort' or as the act of holding a gnome upside down and shaking him until the loose coins fall out of his pockets. Either way, what their doing right now is their version of 'negotiation'".

We spoke for what seemed like an hour, trying to figure out a plan. At one point we brought Urbest in (he owned the farms being threatened) and I told him the Orcs were demanding 200 gold a week as tribute. Hey, if we could make a little money off this situation and I could take it from Urbest it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Baltrois even began dropping hints that maybe the Orcs would take Urbest as tribute and leave us alone. I have to admit, I rather liked that idea, but couldn't think of a way to get Urbest out there without him offering to just pay the gold the Orcs were asking for. Still, the whole thing made me feel a kinship with Baltrois.

Around this time, Paddam arrived from one of the other gates. It seems the Orcs were only attacking from this direction. I was vehemently against paying tribute when the odds seemed roughly in our favor. 30 to 5 seemed pretty good to me, and at that time I thought we could count on Orland, Longspear, Riverward, and Urbest for help as well. At that point it was 3:1 against, great odds.

Unfortunately, some of my partners seemed to think diplomacy may work in the end. Against my better judgement, Berrian, Fin, and Paddam went out to speak again with Bonebreaker. As they went, Baltrois and I took up positions on the battlements north of the gate and the newly arrived Snaps took up a spot on the south.

Almost immediately I could tell something was wrong. Bonebreaker was agitated and seemed to be screaming at the party. From my position on the wall I couldn't hear him clearly so again, like a fool, I climbed town and approached the behemoth.

"The terms have changed" he was shouting, and as I began to try and question him he shouted, "The deal is off."

''Merde. J'ai besoin d'une distraction.'' As the thought entered my head, red sparks erupted in the face of Bonecrusher as I shouted, "Run!"

The next few minutes are a blur. Goblin spearmen ran forward with torches to fire the farms and Bonebreaker lifted his massive hammer and went straight for Paddam. Vaguely I was aware of gale force winds rampaging through the nearest Goblin's ranks. They quickly recovered, but Snaps attack had obviously weakened their front line.

Without thinking, I shouted to Paddam, "Avenge your ancestors, and watch your back. I'm going to try something." I'm not sure but my words seemed to inspire the dwarf. With that I charged the line of oncoming spearmen. with the archers behind them that made it 7 to 1, but Snaps had already weakened the vanguard and somehow I knew this was the right place to be.

Without drawing my rapier, I clapped my hands together as their lines collapsed on me. A noise like I've never heard before erupted from my hands. I could feel energy entering my body and flowing outward. Too much energy! It seemed more than I could handle. Somehow I forced it back.

Four Goblins were dead, and their archers were now exposed. To my horror, Paddam was also caught in the blast. I tried to warn him! I thought and prepared to charge the archers. Unfortunately, they were ready for me. All three loosed their bolts at me. One missed and one grazed my shoulder, but the third buried itself deep in my rib.

The pain was unimaginable, and I briefly dropped to a knee. As I watched the archers reloading their crossbows, I grabbed the thumb-thick bolt and broke the shaft with my rapier. Again pain like I had never felt before racked my body, and I nearly collapsed, but just then I heard Baltrois, "A Wood elf from the Nest never misses twice!"

I looked up in time to see several things happen at once. First, Baltrois arrow found its home in Bonebreaker's eye. Second, the ramparts he and Snaps were standing on erupted in flame. Third, the line of archers in front of me melted.

"The trebuchets are manned!" I shouted as I stood searching for a new target. A lone Orc archer stood thirty feet away holding a long bow. I'm tired of getting shot, I thought. As I ran to face the archer I shouted something over my shoulder to Snaps, hoping to inspire him to keep fighting.

The Orc was caught entirely off guard. Feeling inspired myself, I buried my rapier deep in his chest--but not deep enough. As I began withdrawing my sword I realized the monster had dropped his bow. It was then I felt pain from all sides. Sword, spear, and knife each found purchase. The knife deflected off my armor, but I was overcome. For the second time in my life, I fell in combat.

Vaguely, I was aware of the battle taking place around me. Willard arrived at some point and began to dance among the Goblins. Finrel launched arcane missiles over my head on more than one occasion. Finally, the world began to clear and I realized Orland was standing over me, helping me to my feet. I felt stronger, but the crossbow bolt buried in my chest made concentrating difficult.

Looking around, I could see the battle was won. Berrian, Willard, and I moved among our fallen comrades reviving those who had fallen. Miraculously, the only soul we lost was that of Martin Riverwood. The poor boy took was on the palisade when the trebuchets struck. there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it. Later I heard he managed to lose one arrow before he fell. We'll let his family know he died in battle, and forget the fact that he missed his only shot.

We regrouped and began to put out the fires to Urbest's farms. The blighter didn't lift a finger to help us the entire fight, and he continued to sit and watch now as we tried to save what was left of his property. I truly have no respect for the dwarf. That made my next decision much easier...

As we turned our attention to the city walls I heard a noise behind me. Looking back by heart fell. At least as many Orcs as we had just killed emerged from the forest, led by a monstrosity taller and more powerfully built than Bonebreaker.

Our new adversary approached, leaving his horde in the tree line. From his howls and screams I discerned that we had apparently just killed the Orc's brother. Looking around, I could tell we weren't in any shape for another fight. With the exception of Willard and Fin, we were covered in blood--Much of it our own.

With the crossbow bolt making me feel fainter every minute, I straightened my back and looked at the Orc, "I am Eugene DeEssart of Lands End, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

The Orc was not impressed. "I am Goorr Mulfarion, and you killed my brother."

Well, I thought, this is certainly not going well. "Your brother died in honorable combat," I said aloud, "he was defeated, now can we be left alone?"

He seemed somewhat persuaded to do so, but it was always going to be difficult to convince the man not to immediately avenge his brother. Looking at Baltrois an idea sprang into my mind. "Goorr, what if we gave you a Dwarf captive? Would that satisfy you for now?" When it seemed that might, I requested he wait a minute while we retrieved the dwarf in question from the town.

"What's wrong with that dwarf? I'll take him." Goorr said, pointing at Paddam.

"Oh, you don't want him, He fought honorably against your brother, hammer against hammer. We have another dwarf in town too cowardly to lift a finger in the fight, even though it was his farms your brother was burning." Again I could tell I was at a disadvantage in trying to persuade the Orc to take Urbest, but we couldn't let him have Paddam, and we were in no condition to fight another thirty Orcs.

To my surprise, Goorr looked me straight in the eye and said, "bring the coward to me."

Finrel went to do just that, and to my greater surprise, a few moments later, he proceeded Urbest out of the town. On closer inspection, Urbest had a vacant look on his face and a chill ran down my spine wondering what the Gnome had done to the Dwarf.

Goorr lifted Urbest as if the dwarf were a sack of flour and began carrying him off. I thought that was going to be the end of it until Orland started throwing a fit about us needing to save Urbest.

Now, you have to remember, Orland and I have never had the best of relationships. He hasn't liked me since the day I floated ashore. I suspect he has always harbored the thought that my crew mates and I were pirates and not legitimate sailors. For whatever reason, or for no reason at all, the man has hounded me for the last three years. I only spoke up on his behalf earlier in the day because Urbest was conflating the sheriff with our guild, and I would do anything to protect a member of my crew. I say that to explain that it was of no consequence to me if the man got himself killed trying to save his biggest rival in town. What did concern me was that if he started a fight, the army in the forest might engage the rest of us.

Sharing a glance with Baltrois, the two of us melted away and took cover behind the nearest farmhouse. I took dropped my rapier and un-slung my bow, testing the string before knocking an arrow. Baltrois did the same. I nodded to him and each of us moved to an opposite side of the house, ready to lose an arrow at Goorr if it came to it.

As Orland approached Goorr, Finrel called out to him. Fin gave a rousing speech attempting to convince Orland not to attack the Orc. Unfortunately, around that time Snaps became possessed by seizures and started to drool, he never lost his footing, but he was oddly distracting, making it difficult to follow Fin's pleas. Orland looked from Finrel to Snaps, concern on his face, he was clearly unconvinced.

"If he takes one more step, I'm taking the shot." Baltrois whispered. It seemed a little rash to me, but I guess if we both fired early Orland might have a better chance with his initial attack.

As I began to draw, Finrel spoke out again, and this time it seemed he got through to Orland, even as snaps soiled his pants and began shaking uncontrollably again. I returned my arrow to the quiver at my side and recovered my rapier.

As a group we turned our attention to the still-burning palisades.