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Posted by on 1999 Sep 23 |

Rock Foils Assassin! Saves Ferry!

(Riverhaven, Therengia: 54 Ka’len 359)

"Come to me!" came the cry that echo’d ‘bout the Green. A mighty army raised by noted general, a paladin who needs no other name, a warleader without peer. (Or beer, much to the discontent of his army) "We march ta Free Haven!" was the mantra of the crowd.

In all due haste, the army moved off. (It must be said that the very phrase, "In due haste" for an army is the rate of the pack animals, in this case, three commandeered yaks.) In due time the group arrived at the ferry, waiting the goblin’s arrow fire break for a moment.

Goblin soldiers were everywhere, some of them boldy marching past our war encampment at the ferry dock. A sortie was mounted to chase after them, but the City itself was ultimately deemed the most vital military point.

The ferry arrived and the party boarded, with a few elders handing out coins to the few that has forgotten them in the chaos. They boarded the ferry quickly, and the Gus, the ferryman’s nephew) pushed us off the bank quickly (as quickly as you can board three yaks, which was right quick due to the skilled services of Peddler Barimore Shyle).

We were no more than 10 feet from shore, when from the shadows, they attacked. Goblin soldiers and sailors rallyied against us. We were ready for them, and the bolts, arrows and thunderous war cries of the barbarians thundered around us, amidst the melee.

Goblin archers managed to get a position on us, but withering couterfire from our ranged troops, and a stoutly lead charge against the goblin sniper by Lord Marshall Rock, their ranged troops were annihilated. The sailors and soldiers were no match for our remaining infantry.

In the midst of the melee, no one noticed the devastation wrought by a single goblin. Not a large goblin, not a fast goblin, but a deadly viscous one, who had singled out our only raising cleric. If the goblins had had the manpower to hit us again, as they had, they might have caused more to fall, but the unit was so very quick, that it seemed that few had more than nicks or scratches.

Lathia also was slain in the fracas (or from the wounds she had just aquired, I must admit it happened much too fast for me to keep track of. My day on the barge consisted of stab, make sure there wasn’t a goblin behind me, and stabbing my foe again.)

It was then we heard the voice of the terrible assassin behind the attacks. A voice called out from the shadows, taunting Rock, questioning his generalship. Rock was unperturbed, like the granite he is carved from. A number of the host grew exceedingly hot under the collar, and even the bards sang taunts at the cowardly assassin.

All the while the assassin taunted us, another troop had used the time to use the other ferry to board us and attack. Fortunately, Chadratu was with us this day, as his foe hammer, the Rock, stalwart and hero, defended the battlefield with his own banner of peace. The goblins ran quickly when it became apparent that a fight was not going to be happening.

While the crowd on the barge roared for blood, the goblins, sensing that their element of surprise had abandoned them, wisely threw themselves overboard.

There was a further bit of milling about, as Rock suddenly up an threw himself into the water.

Many were the cries of "Oh, woe is us, We’re doomed without our leader" and "Who’s going to buy all the booze at the victory party now?" There was much idle speculation regarding the disappearance of our leader, and his eventual court martial for abandoning his post.

I however, dear reader, know what happened. Rock, quickly figuring out that the real foe in this battle was the assassin leading and directing the goblin soldiery, figured that the assassin was after him alone. Calling upon the holy spirit that flows through his veins like blood pumps in lesser mortals, he discerned the Assassin’s presence.

Unfortunately for us all, the Assassin realized that he had been discovered, and dove over the side.

Rock, knowing that could be his best chance for ending the siege on the city, and thinking little for himself, threw himself over the side, into the icy depths of the river, clad head to toe in gleaming steel.

How Rock survived the ordeal, it’s unknown, but he tells of meeting the assassin beneath the surface, and engaging him in a fierce battle, one in which he was prevailing, despite the weight of his armor. To one such as he, filled as he is with the holy spirit, nothing it seems can weigh him down.

Rock failed to capture or cripple the Assassin beneath the waves. Rock also failed to surface as close to the Ferry as he might have liked. By the time he had managed to clamber back aboard, his mail leaking water like a sieve, the Assassin was long gone, certainly fearing for his life, knowing that Rock would certainly have slain him on that day, Chadratu’s righteous fist, protecting the good citizens of Riverhaven.

This is only one story of many goods committed by the great warriors of the Paladin’s Guild. Hopefully, we’ve seen the last of the goblins for now, since by all appearances, the Book of Chadratu seems safe. But we may be attacked again at any time. Ware Snipers!

P.S. Sorry about the three yaks, friend trader, but they made good eating. Consider it a war tax! (Riverhaven East Gate Guards)