Birthright 3: The Worm's Supper, Chapter 5

[ewancummins]

FIGHTING THE DEAD MEN


The revenants close in on three sides.

Domenica lashes her whip at the legs of the nearest foe. It staggers, lurches past her, groping at the air with its filthy hands.

Sir Rory and his men lay into their enemies with swords. But the abominations do not cry out or retreat, even as their skulls split and their chests cave in under strong blows.
They just keep coming.

One of the guards falls under the fists of the dead men, his dented helmet rolling away across the scortched field.

Domenica gets separated from the men in her frantic retreat. Four of the things turn and stagger after her, breaking off from the main body that assails Sir Rory and his guards.
She snaps her whip again and again, aiming low, trying to trip the clumsy monsters.

Hoof beats thump from the direction of the road, and the rattle of wheels.
Loud and coming closer!
A quick glance back shows the wagon-team cantering her way, the driver crouched low in the buckboard and his companion holding the seat with both hands.
Dust and soot blow across the field in the wagon's wake.
The man beside the driver shouts,"Boss--get on!"

Domenica drops under the clumsy hands reaching for her, rolls toward the oncoming wagon, and springs for the side rail.
The fingers of her right hand close on it, slip, burn down the rough plank.
Boot-heels skidding in the dirt, she scrabbles to keep a grip on the vehicle.
The man next to the driver turns around, leans over, and hauls Domenica into the rear of the wagon. She plops down on sacks of fodder.

Looking back, she sees the circle of dead-walkers cling around Sir Rory and his few guards.
Vollmar comes down from the road, swinging his mace with both hands, wading into the press of rotting bodies and vanishing.
The torch held aloft by one of the guards falls but the sounds of a desperate fight continue, audible even over noise of the draft horses and the speeding wagon.

Further distant, she sees one of the guardsmen mounted on a horse (the others are all on foot) riding around the far end of the tightening circle of monsters, swinging his sword at the things.

The hired tracker has run to the road and climbed into the saddle of one of the picketed riding horses. He casts about. Domenica cannot make out his face in the distance and through the dust. But she can see the lantern he holds up.

The wagon speeds further out into the field, cutting a wide circle around the battle. The man beside the driver leans over the rail that separate the front from the rear of the wagon. ''Boss? What do we do?"

[alhoon]

In shadow

Filbert looks around, he has been a few times in shadowworld already but everytime it's different and rather impressive. He gets his sword out and says:

"We are in Shadow world, at least this is how I call it. We can travel faster that way and be at the inn without this beast or the guards get us. But be careful reality here isn't how you know it, time and distance are different as is almost everything actuall. Watch your steps, don't eat, drink or go away from me. If you have a weapon better have it ready and if I tell you run by all means do so! But I repeat don't get away from me because you will risk to remain trapped here. This isn't good place, I think you can figure that out by looking around. But I do hope we won't encounter any shadow creatures and be at the inn in no time. If you wonder why we didn't run, well I'm not tall and cannot outrun a dog...plus a patrol may come. The falcon had a nasty trap, difficult to find and more difficult to remove, especially with poor light. I can narrate you many stories about the shadow world but I'm sure you can make many good ones by yourself as well."

Filbert looks around one more time and starts walking towards where he believes its the inn.

"Lord Filbert, I can't see you, so you better talk every once a while..."
Termelan keeps looking around "So, this is the place that powers illusions? Perhaps Madam Safana would know more about the nature of this place. "
After a couple of minutes, Termelan asked Filbert "Could I take something from here? Like earth or a stone?"

[VAN]

"Lady Safana has been in this realm a couple times but I don't know if she knows much about it. As a halfling I have an ability to travel here which isn't easy task I assure you. I need to find a thin spot between the two worlds and force myself and whoever I want to take with me inside. Once outside and safe I will tell you stories about my adventures here. As about taking something with you well I have never done it before. It maybe intersting to study how shadow matterial will interract in prime mstterial. Guess you can take some dust or stone, just don't leave the path."

[kintire]

SAFANA

She gives a, she hopes, pleasant smile at his offer, while thinking fast... and coming up a blank.

"Well that is very... generous of you. An underground chamber would be useful, and a brazier or hearth with a good fire. And, uh, some gold would help..."

She continues to try and think of a way out of this, but her mind is producing nothing!

[ewancummins]

SAFANA

She gives a, she hopes, pleasant smile at his offer, while thinking fast... and coming up a blank.

"Well that is very... generous of you. An underground chamber would be useful, and a brazier or hearth with a good fire. And, uh, some gold would help..."

She continues to try and think of a way out of this, but her mind is producing nothing!

FALCON'S ROOST


"Excellent. I have all that here. We can begin soon."

[ewancummins]

FOERDE, THE DESCENDING TUNNEL


FOERDE crouches in the low tunnel, scuttling along with his torch thrust out before him.

The passage twists and drops steeper.

Soon, he cannot see the cavern when he looks back over his shoulder.

The tunnel widens.

It opens into a larger chamber, squarish, clearly artificial. Maybe ten or twelve feet on each side, with a sunken floor. The ceiling rises just high enough for him to stand.
Corridors pierce the far left and far right walls.


No obvious inhabitants, but he notices some rubbish on the floor, including scraps of cloth and small bones.

Moving in for a closer look, he finds that bones resemble miniature human remains, but are honeycombed inside like parts of a hawk's skeleton.

He finds other offal mixed in with the cloth and bones: a rat's tail, a puddle of white stuff that looks like bird droppings, and a translucent insectile wing as long as his hand.


The corridor on the left runs ten feet and ends in rubble.

The one on the right runs six feet and ends in a cobwebbed wooden cross brace. Beyond that hangs a shadow pit or vertical shaft with rounded walls. A ray of hazy light shines from someplace over and past the cross beams blocking passage into the shaft.


Both corridors are about the same height and width as the passage through which he entered this area.

[ewancummins]

TERMELAN AND FILBERT

The pair hike across the spidery, deadwood forest without meeting any travellers or even spotting a small animal. The whole place seems utterly dead and deserted.
The shining black onyx moon never moves above, so they cannot tell how much time has passed since they entered the Shadowlands.
But after an indeterminate period, they both hear the distant murmur of flowing waters.
And then , a little further on, they both see a roof rising above the bare branches of the wood.
A chimney, too, smokeless and decrepit.
They approach the house from the left front corner.
A long row of tall windows in the facade catch the greenish black moonlight and throw it back like mirrors.
Termelan's reflection appears with a noose about its neck, running up out of sight. The bard's dead face stares back at him.
The eyes blink.
The mouth opens and mouths a silent word.

Filbert's reflection flits from window to window, like a jumping spider. Only when it leaps high does more than the halfling's head show. In a moment, it vanishes at the window farthest to the right.

A door creaks open in the middle of the row of windows.

Words show on the arch above the door, written in what looks like white chalk. They might not have been there a moment ago...

WELCOME
TRAVELLERS

[steveflam]

FIGHTING THE DEAD MEN - DOMENICA'S POV

As the wagon hurries past, Domenica has luck with her as she hops on, Fredemir the dwarf holding her steady as she gets comfortable as

the circumstances dictate. Looking back, she realizes that Sir Rory needs help.


"Rolf", she yells at the wagoneer, "Turn around! Let's ram those dead men with the wagon or the horses and help Sir Rory! I have an idea!"

Turning to the other men in the wagon she tells her plan. "Use the lanterns to bomb those dead things. Let's help Sir Rory best we can."

AS the wagon turns back, she grabs a lantern and readies it. As they drive madly at the Zombies, she hurls the first lantern at a Zombie even as a

wagon wheel catches another one, crushing it as the wheel turns. The wagon of despair continues on, finally crashing farther on!

Most men escape. Fredemir kept tossing grain sacks at the Zombies to knock them away or down, whilst the other men used the lantern bombs top decimate

the Zombie flock.


Just before ti crashes Domenica is lucky enough to jump off the wagon of destruction, as she would call it later. She is one of the lucky few to not be injured

by the Zombies, less a few missing hairs by a Zombie who almost got her. The horses are now dead, by the hands of the Zombies. Rolf sits dejectedly, looking

at their dead carcasses.

Domenica surveys the whole scene. So some had survived, while others weren't so lucky. She tries to take charge.

"All right, men. Some of you gather what supplies we have. Some of you keep guard. The rest help those injured!"

She turns to Sir Rory "Well, Sire, that was my first real battle. Suggestions, please. I am not accustomed to these conditions as perhaps some

more experienced of you are."

[ewancummins]

Sir Rory looks on as Domenica's workers assist the unhurt guard in making crude dressings of ripped clothing for the three injured, unconscious guards.

"My injured men will likely die if we don't get them to a warm, dry place. They may die anyway."

He looks west, the direction DOMENICA founds signs of a a cart.

" Without the tracker, lanterns, or sunlight...we're done hunting this witch. For the night."

He mounts his horse.

"We move west down the road. We can reach the nearest roadhouse before full dark. But we must leave as soon as possible. "

[alhoon]

That made Termelan understandably uneasy, spoiling his mood. He looks at Filbert and says "Sir Filbert... we're not going in there are we?"

[steveflam]

"Very well, sire." Turning to the men "What Sir Rory said. We move out. Everyone help everyone." She turns and follows Sir Rory.

[VAN]

Filbert catches a glimple of his reflection moving from window to window and blinks trying to remain focused.

"I certainly prefer not to, neither I'm confident with this place and this inn looks at least haunted...better keep walking."

[RocEter]

FOERDE, THE DESCENDING TUNNEL


FOERDE crouches in the low tunnel, scuttling along with his torch thrust out before him.

The passage twists and drops steeper.

Soon, he cannot see the cavern when he looks back over his shoulder.

The tunnel widens.

It opens into a larger chamber, squarish, clearly artificial. Maybe ten or twelve feet on each side, with a sunken floor. The ceiling rises just high enough for him to stand.
Corridors pierce the far left and far right walls.


No obvious inhabitants, but he notices some rubbish on the floor, including scraps of cloth and small bones.

Moving in for a closer look, he finds that bones resemble miniature human remains, but are honeycombed inside like parts of a hawk's skeleton.

He finds other offal mixed in with the cloth and bones: a rat's tail, a puddle of white stuff that looks like bird droppings, and a translucent insectile wing as long as his hand.


The corridor on the left runs ten feet and ends in rubble.

The one on the right runs six feet and ends in a cobwebbed wooden cross brace. Beyond that hangs a shadow pit or vertical shaft with rounded walls. A ray of hazy light shines from someplace over and past the cross beams blocking passage into the shaft.


Both corridors are about the same height and width as the passage through which he entered this area.

Foerde will drop a loose a stone down the hole and listen for it hit the ground.

[ewancummins]

FOERDE
THE DUNGEON


FOERDE is able to crawl into the low corridor on the right side of the larger chamber, and drop a pebble over the cross beams that block the way into the vertical shaft beyond that passage.
He counts almost thirty seconds before he hears a faint splash from the lower portion of the pit.
This close, he can make out a few additional details of the vertical cavity beyond the cross beams; it looks like a shaft or maybe a well sunk in the rock. Feeble light slants down the upper portion, casting shadows that hint of rough patches in the stone. It's hard to see more without clearing off the webs from the brace at the end of the corridor and thrusting his torch past the crossed timbers and into the well-like space.

[ewancummins]

Filbert catches a glimple of his reflection moving from window to window and blinks trying to remain focused.

"I certainly prefer not to, neither I'm confident with this place and this inn looks at least haunted...better keep walking."

THE SHADOWLANDS


THE PAIR walk on through the skeletal trees until they come to the marshy edge of a winding, ink black river.

(FILBERT's shadow sense allows him to detect a thin spot near the riverbank, through which he can see shadowy images of people and furniture, and blue flames dancing in an oven. It looks like a kitchen. He thinks he recognizes one of the figures, a plump man with a wide head, as the cook at his inn. )

(TERMELAN cannot see what is so special about the empty air and dreary patch of clay that Filbert examines.)