Chronicles of Valr Militades

          As the drum beat quickened we were forced with yet another hard choice, do we return to the fort with our injured companion or do we push on with our mission.  By his movements you would think that he had suffered a minor pulled muscle or twisted joint, not the grievous bite he had truly suffered.  But then looking around you could see a new strength behind every ones eyes.  After a brief talk we decided to push on and continue with the mission.  We headed towards the sound of the drums as silently as we could.  After some time at this slow pace a sense of foreboding overcame us. 

        Stopping and scanning our surroundings very carefully we discovered that we were not alone in the woods.  At some distance in several directions were the Picts.  They were silently watching our approach, each was armed with a crude hunting bow and what looked like a flint hatchet.  Not wanting the element of surprise to go the way of the Picts our sturdy band of adventures took the attack to them.  Getting my barring I charged the group of Picts ahead of me, while Bjorn, Quillia and Nande also selected an enemy.  With quick and deft movements Sly loaded a stone in his sling and let it fly towards the group I was heading for.  Hitting one of the savages in the head stunning but not dropping him. 

       After getting over their initial bewilderment at our actions the Picts opened fire with their bows missing most of the party but scoring small hit on both Sly and Quillia.  With her long and powerful strides Nande was able to reach the group ahead of us before I was,  with a powerful thrust of her war spear she laid her opponent low.  Reaching my opponent I delivered a massive overhand stroke that nearly cleaved the animal skin clad savage in twain.  Glancing around for the next foe to attack I saw that my companions were in similar situations with Bjorn cleaving his foe as well and Quillia dispatching hers with a clean thrust. 

       The only member of our group who seemed to be in trouble was Sly.  While we were engaging our foes it seemed that the fifth savage had tried to work his way behind us to send arrows into our backs.  Sly seeing this tried to use his sling once again but his shot went wide.  Exposing him to the savages bow shot.  Noticing the arrow sticking out of the youth Bjorn charged to his rescue.  Seeing that Bjorn was more then a match for the poor savage Nande, Quillia, and I went about the grizzly task of collecting our bounty pieces. 

       As I finished my task I glanced up just in time to see Sly let loose another shot from his sling, watching it’s path towards Bjorn a scream of warning start at the back of my throat then froze as I watched the shot whiz between Bjorn’s legs missing him by mere inches to strike his foe.  Out of what looked like sheer luck the Pict was able to strike Bjorn with his hatchet, dealing what looked like a crippling blow.  But yet again the barbarian summoned his primal raged and turned the offending mongrel into a crimson mist before he to fell from his injuries.  After a quick mend to Bjorn or group headed towards what looked like a campfire of some sort.  Moving like shadows we approached a clearing in the woods where the fire was.  There before us stood a rude village, made up of three lodge huts.  Most important detail of the camp was the 5 capture stakes and the crude altar.  For on those were two Picts and three white men. And between us and those captives was a host of about 15 or more savages and their shaman.

          Its moments like this that I reflect on my life, wishing that I had been an only child.  My dandified brother seems to have a way of getting himself in the worst kinds of trouble.  This brings in to mind the time Count Trocero was holding one of his annual tourneys, my poor clod brained brother had the misfortune of incurring our benevolent leaders wrath at every turn.  First by showing up in a suit of Armour gilded in gold and silver, and lightly scented with rose extract! Then by demanding that since he was first born he should have first pass, even though I being tourney champion had said right.  And finally when he was unhorsed he had the misfortune to cry flow cause the sun was in his eyes.  If only our esteemed father in his advanced age could see my brother for the useless, dandified, knitting needle toting “Courtier” that he is.  But I stray….

          After conferring with each other it was agreed that Sly and I would sneak around the edge of the camp and try to make a diversion so we could free the captives.  After stripping out of my Armour with Bjorn’s help we made our way slowly around the edge of the camp.  As we progressed the savages were working up into a crescendo.   Looking into the first hut I found nothing that we could use as a distraction.  Moving on we found ourselves behind the largest of the structures.  Lifting my self into the dwelling thru the thatched roof I discovered what must be the shamans private quarters.  In it were all kinds of trophies, heads firs arms and Armour.  And a strange jar in one corner that sent chills up and down my back to just look at it. 

       Looking around for something to burn or to use as a distraction I heard two faint thudding noises coming from the front of the hut just as Sly dropped thru the opening I had made.  Slowly I pulled the rude animal skin away from the opening so I could see what the commotion was all about.  Fate must have been on the side of our enemies at that moment cause as I took in the horror that was taking place outside the Shaman was staring at me.  Moving as fast as I could I pulled myself up against the main entry post.  Just in time too it appeared cause several arrows were now sticking out of the hide flap where my head had just been.

       Drawing my sword I headed to the closest captive slicing thru his bonds, glancing around I noticed that Nande was at the side of the other captive freeing him as well.  To my horror the Shaman finished off the captive on the alter, while his snake was aimlessly attacking one of the Picts.  Just then sly darted out of the tent carrying the large bow and a quiver of arrows.  He handed them to the captive that I had freed.  Upon receiving these items he unleashed a shot scoring a solid hit on the shaman.  The shaman sensing his peril unleashed a spell that seemed to make the bowmen shrink in on himself. 

       Noticing that the other captive was in dire trouble, being attacked by two picts I leapt to his aid nearly splitting the spear wielder in half, while Nande claimed yet another life with her great spear.  Not wanting to be outdone the freed captive picked up a hatchet off a fallen enemy and sent it flying into another foe.  Sensing that the battle was not going his way the shaman fled off into the wilderness leaving his followers and summoned snake to there own fates.  The Picts seeing this scattered to the winds as well.

       Watching a small group flee I noticed that they were heading right where I had left all my possessions, with a oath to Mitra I ran after them to try to save my gear for I knew that Armour was the only thing besides my wits and my sword that would keep me alive in this adventure.  Reaching my stashed goods are turned back just in time to see the Archer lay low the serpent with Two shots from his mighty bow that seemed to merge into one arrow.