Thirteen -- Rescues and Returns [Story]

 "Tell us where Balgron is!  Where have you taken him?!" rasped a voice in heavily accented Common.

    There was a cranking noise and a scream that carried clearly through the door outside which Vorthos and the others waited.

    "I don't know!" screamed a voice.  Vorthos winced as he recognized it as his friend.  "I don't know who Balgron is?  Please, please stop ..."

    "Tell us what you know and your death will come quickly and painlessly.  Otherwise..."

    "Enough of this!" hissed Naruel.  She kicked the door open, longbow at the ready.

    A leather masked brute stood in the middle of the stone room, clad in distinct red and black leather armor and carrying a red hot poker.  No goblin, he stood at least 6 feet tall.  He stood before a crude rack upon which a half naked man lay writhing in agony.  Other bloodstained torture devices filled the room -- a metal cage in one corner, an open iron maiden -- steel points covered with rust or dry blood, and a fire pit.   A handful of goblins also stood around, tittering at the screams of the man.

    "Die!" Naruel cried and fired at the nearest goblin, but in her distress the arrows went wide.  As she fired, Vorthos leapt into the room and ran straight at the torturer, leaping right over the rack and thrusting deep through an opening in the brute's armor.  He twisted the blade and the torturer bellowed in pain, and reeled further as Wing entered the room after the ranger and scout and blasted him with a magical bolt.

    Vorthos, intent on inflicting pain on his friend's tormentor, did not even react as one of the goblin's arrows cut him.  Madeleine leapt in and reached the rack. She undid his bindings and pulled the prisoner down.  "Stay down" she admonished.

    The goblins scattered and brought up bows to fire.  Wing staggered as one arrow hit him, and the goblin cried out for the others to focus their fire.  Another goblin wheeled and fired at the mage, but as the arrow reached Wing, the air around Wing shimmered a light blue and the arrow was deflected from its path.  

    "Nice," complimented Nary.  She had seen father conjure an instant magical shield before but never had Wing been able to do so when pressed.  

    Bailyn rushed a goblin soldier and dealt him a powerful blow with his maul.  As he did so the hobgoblin torturer gathered himself and ran towards the attacking dwarf from behind.  Vorthos struck at him again but the brunt of the blow was taken by the brute's leather armor, which seemed to give off a hum.  

    "In you go!" yelled the brute as he shoved the dwarf towards the iron maiden.  Bailyn cursed, but as his feet began to give way, he turned and dropped to one knee.  The hobgoblin pitched to the side as the dwarf's backward progress stopped.  

    "Tis not so easy to push a stout dwarf around!" Bailyn crowed.  The torturer never had a chance to attack again.  With a fearsome cry, Farad's warhammer smote the hobgoblin on the shoulder.  The torturer crumpled and was finished by Bailyn, who crushed the torturer's skull with his maul.  

    Vorthos hissed as another arrow hit him as he weaved through the melee.  He felt some of his pain ease as he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He saw talons emerging from a metal gauntlet and looked with some surprise as Farad whispered a prayer of comfort over him. "Thank you," he mumbled.  Farad merely nodded.

    Vorthos showed his thanks by spinning and cutting down Bailyn's original opponent, taking him out with a vicious cut through both knees.

    The remaining goblins fell, their tactic of using arrows failing as the melee fighters closed in on them.  Madeleine ran one through with a vicious strike and then cut another down a moment later, aided by Naruel and Wing.  

    Screaming, the last goblin made a run for it, but as he approached the door, Farad's armor plated bulk filled the entry way.  The goblin raised his blade ineffectively, but the dragonborn knocked it aside with his warhammer and sent his broken carcass into the fire pit with a merciless series of blows.

    *    *    *    *

    Farad and the others did what they could for the tortured scout.  His bones would mend, over time, but for now he was unable to walk.  He had held out as long as he could, but tearfully he admitted that he had revealed that he had come seeking them, and had disclosed their names and descriptions.  Vorthos came to his defense.

    "We do not blame him," Bailyn said.  "No man lasts forever against things such as this," Naruel agreed, gesturing over at the girsly implements of torture in the rrom.  "It is something we must simply deal with."

    "Stay here, friend," Vorthos said, gently laying his friend down to rest in the straw of an empty cell.  "We will be back soon.  We are just stepping out for a little payback."

    *    *    *    *

    Naruel did not know what to make of their new companion -- but she appreciated the ferocity with which he sought to avenge his fallen comrades and admired the stealth with which he moved.  Far more than her other companions, he could almost match her silent stalking.  Together they pounced upon the goblin guards who sat at the table in the entrance to the goblin's main lair, Naruel's arrows felling one while Vorthos lept under the table and nearly into the other goblin's lap, skewering him from crotch to neck in one smooth stroke of his blade.

    As the goblin's bodies fell to the ground in a loud crash, there were shout sof alarm and more goblins poured out from the two hallways that led from further in the lair to the entrance hall.  Naruel took out the first as he emerged from the tapestries that served as a sort of doorway.  

    The battle was brutally fast.  Farad held the southern entrance -- goblins struck him and though not all the blows were parried, he prevented the goblins from making it further into the room.  Madeleine strode to his side, brandishing Aecris in both hands -- the ornate longsword carving paths of blood and destruction through their foes.  

    Vorthos was a fearless fighter and deadly with his shortsword, but also reckless.  He stood upon the table and struck at the goblins streaming in from the northern entrance.  As he struck a charging goblin down he was surrounded -- longsword and spear lashed at him, bruising him under his leather and leaving cuts where his flesh was exposed.  A goblin warrior threw a javelin that pierced the distracted tiefling, and he looked in jeopardy for a moment, until Bailyn came to his aid.  Bailyn set upon Vorthos' foes with great violence, the dwarf's maul crashing and smashing through shield and armor, and in moments Vorthos was no longer surrounded by living opponents.  

    The three remaining goblins stood their ground and fought.  Madeleine charged a goblin near Farad, giving it a terrible gash across the face with her warblade, and as it turned to defend itself against her onslaught, it exposed its back to Farad, who struck it down with a single forceful blow to the back of the head.  The two remaining goblins fought but fell against the group's superior numbers.    
    
    *    *    *    *

    Having been underground for so many hours, Wing was not sure whether they had been at this hallway more than a day ago.  He stood back in the dark secret passageway where they had interrogated the fat little goblin chief.   Naruel and the Winterhaven scout, Vorthos were in front of him, crouching and looking to the left towards the other area where they knew there were goblins.  

    He heard Naruel curse as a bellow arose in the distance.  

    "They have animals of some sort that smelled us!  Attack!" Naruel cried, grabbing an arrow.

    Wing rushed toward the room, stopping just in time to avoid falling as the floor abruptly ended and a dirt floor appeared some feet below.  The room was dug up and remnants of the original floor stood like little outposts throughout the room, connected by narrow wooden planks.  Three goblins stared at him from various parts of the room, picks in hands and more menacingly, shortbows slung on their shoulders.   He saw at least one reptilian beast of the sort they had fought at the burial site.

    Wing's ray of frost hit one of the goblins, staggering it and covering it in bluish frost as it fumbled for its bow, causing its shot to narrowly miss the mage.  A bolt from Madeleine's crossbow and a volley from Naruel's longbow struck the goblin, causing the slowed creature to stagger and howl.  

    Vorthos ran by the others, a look of excitement mixed with rage on his face.  "Wait, be careful!" Madeleine cried out.  Halfway across a plank, Vorthos lost his footing and disappeared from view with a loud crash.  A goblin, taking advantage of the tiefling's misfortune, shot and hit the tiefling.  

    "Help him!" Naruel warned, a note of concern in her voice, even as she concentrated on the goblin archers.  Wing and she brought the first one he had hit down, though it struck Wing with a shot as it fell.  Another goblin fired as well, seeking to bring down the mage, but Wing again conjured a mystical shield that sent the arrow off course.

    Farad ran and threw a javelin at the drake, which stood not too far from where Vorthos fell, trying to draw its attention.  Distracted, the drake charged the dragonborn.  Farad staggered as the reptile administered a fierce swipe and bite that he was unable to fully block, leaving the paladin bloody in their wake.

    As Vorthos stood and groggily shook off the effect of the fall, Bailyn tried to reach him, scaling down the steep dirt walls to the excavated floor below.  But the ground gave way and the stout armored dwarf fell, resulting in a cloud of dust and a string of oaths.  

    A second drake, unseen by Farad, rounded the corner in a dead charge and with a single snap of its jaws grabbed Vorthos and flung him to the side.  Bleeding from multiple punctures of the reptiles powerful jaws, Vorthos lay still.  

    "You'll pay for that meal, beastie!" Bailyn roared, getting to his feet.  The drake turned and charged at him, its six clawed legs churning up dirt and debris.  Bailyn dove to the side and answered with a strike that knocked the drake clean off its legs.  The drake regained its footing and charged again, though blood could be seen streaming from cracks in its leathery skin where Bailyn's maul had struck it.  

    Madeleine discarded her crossbow and with a single motion over her shoulder, unsheathed Aecris and leapt to Farad's aid in the excavted areas.  Flanking the drake she struck at it again and again, forcing the enraged drake to turn and expose itself to an additional strike by Farad's warhammer.   

    "Hurry!  Before he bleeds out!"  yelled Madeleine as she defended herself against the wounded but still dangerous lizard.  With her peripheral vision she could see Bailyn dealing with the other drake, while overhead arrows flew back and forth in an archer's duel between Naruel and Wing on one hand, and the remaining goblins on the other.

    Goblin shortbows were no match for elvish longbows and arcane fire -- the goblin's smoking and arrow ridden bodies soon lay still, their bows fallen from outstretched hands.  There were clouds of dust and dirt kicked up by the reptiles' death throes as Madeleine finished off one drake, freeing Farad to flank and administer a decisive blow to the other.

    Naruel clambered down into the pit and inspected the fallen Tiefling.  

    "Not dead, thank the Gods," she said, pulling out bandages.  Farad, walking wearily from his own wounds, knelt next to the shallowly breathing young man.  "I can give him some aid, but he needs rest."

    He was silent for a moment, thinking to himself.  "We will return to town.  I will not let my fear of the rift opening allow me to let those who I intend to protect fall from more mundane evils."  

    "Now you are talking some sense," Madeleine answered.  "But now we have two injured that can not walk -- will we carry them all the way back?"

    The group looked at one another, until Wing spoke.  "I think I may have something that can help.  Let me grab my spellbook."

    *    *    *    *

    Valthrun hurried up the stone stairs, his many years climbing up the tower making the climb so inconsequential that the much younger town guards struggled to keep up.  As he reached the top he could hear Lord Padraig calling.

    "Valthrun, what is that?"

    Valthrun hurried until he had reached Lord Padraig, who was standing with the two guards on night watch duty who stood on the wall atop the front gate.  Valthrun peered out.  Cresting the horizon were a number of figures, too far to be distinct, carrying sunrods for illumination.  Behind them glowed a disc that seemed to follow them, upon which lay 2 figures. 

    Valthrun looked for a moment then laughed.  "Its alright, Ernest.  It is a basic ritual known to wizards -- Tenser's floating disc.  They must be bringing back the wounded ... or the dead.  Too few to be attackers -- looks like about the right numbers."

    "Open the gates!" Lord Padraig commanded.  "And get Sister Linora, we have wounded."