We made haste back to Borderhold. Lt. Alnor was waiting to hear of our success with the Swordrust tribe. When he heard what had happened, he nearly hit the floor. I do not think that anyone foretold such events unfolding in this remote area. For that matter, I cannot think of anyone who could have forseen the summoning of a demon god.
Lt. Alnor has another mission for us. There is a bridge nearby run by an old Gnome. The old man has reported trouble from bandits and thieves in the area, and has requested the assistance of the Legion. Our job appears to be simple: Go to the bridge and scatter the brigands harassing the bridge keeper. This sounds like a cake walk compared to demon summoning Gnolls. At least I hope it will be.
The bridge is about a days travel outside Borderhold, and we are able to make the trip in good time. As we arrive and dismount, I spot two humans harassing a small old man. The old man balances himself on a cane and seems to be in fairly poor health. It is obvious that he could not stand up to these bullies alone. Seeing that the two humans are armed, I march forward to see what this is all about. "You there. Leave that man alone." I say, continuing toward the two armed men. Getting their attention, one of the men seems to have something to prove. The sight of an armored warrior seems to have brought out his inner bravo. As I get a better look at them now, I can see why. They wear light armor, carry longswords, and have an unkept and shady look about them. They are obviously the brigands we were sent here to dispatch, and they are itching for a fight.
I continue forward, being taunted all the way by one of the rouges. By the time I reach the man I have had enough of his foul mouth and disrespect. I draw forth my sword, and before he can even show his suprise, I bring the flat of my blade down on the side of his head. Stunned by the blow, he is too slow in drawing his own sword, and this time I smash the pommel of my sword into his forhead. He drops to the ground like a sack of flour, as his friend stands in shocked horror at the speed at which he was dropped. I order him to leave, and to take his friend with him. He drags the unconcious man back across the bridge and into the woods beyond. While that was far too simple to be the entire problem, at least we have an idea of what we are up against. Also, it provided fair warning to the thieves.
Finally, I am able to meet the man who sent for us. His name he tells us, is Oddmot Hobblefoot. The name seems fitting, due to his unusual footwear, and strange body posture. Upon further examination I see that one of his legs is actually shorter than the other. This is rather peculiar, especially considering he is said to have built this bridge entirely by himself. Quite the achievement indeed. Oddmot says he and his wife have been harassed by this group for some time. He tells us that the leader of these bandits is one Daryan Theros, however everyone calls him Diabolik. I do not understand why someone would harass such a nice little old man, but I think we should stay around for a few days and make sure everything is alright.
The next morning, I am up with the sun as ususal, and it is shaping up to be a lovely day. Everyone is prepared and ready for anything. It is not long before our readiness is put to the test. Around mid morning a group of men arrive on the far side of the bridge. Hobblefoot points out that the man leading them is none other than Diabolik. The man is tall, with long black hair, and a swagger of certainty to his step. He appears nimble, and wears studded leather armor of pitch black. When they reach the bridge, his men stop. Diabolik continues forward, until he reaches the middle of the bridge and begins to speak. "I will challenge the strongest fighter amongst you to a duel." This is a challenge that I cannot refuse.
I step forward, accepting Diaboliks offer of a fair fight. We begin nearing one another when I break into a run. The first strike in combat can be the last strike if it is done correctly. I begin to sprint, draw forth my sword, and channel the divine might of Aesia to smite this evil man. Alas he is too quick for me, and he evades my blow. He takes a swing and makes solid contact. Then something strange happens. He takes a step back, raises a hand toward me, and I am overcome with a sense of foreboding and fear. I do not understand this, I am a paladin of Aesia, I know no fear! Still I cannot help but second guess my every motion, dodge, and swing of my sword. After a few more seconds, Diabolik has me disarmed, severely wounded, and in a crisis of confidence. Around us, the maelstrom begins.
Seeing me fighting with only my shield, Gerard charges forth into the fray. I cannot be sure what everyone did during the battle, but Nickoli and Gerard were right up in the thick of it. One thing I do know for sure, was the appearance of a Troll. One of Diaboliks men, the Trolls handler, ran up from under the bridge with his pet. I would like to say that under almost any circumstances, Trolls are mean. We all fought valiently, some of us recieving more wounds than others, but all making it out alive. Adrianna suprised me greatly, with her swordsmanship, along with her resisliance in battle. She nearly took down the Troll by herself. Very impressive.
The bandits were not so lucky. All of the scoundrels lay dead, but one body was missing. During the confusion with the Troll, Diabolik must have snuck away. I do not remember him running, but I was knocked out for a short time by the Troll (very nasty beasts). The only thing Diabolik left behind was his sword. While it does not seem to be anything extraordinary, I feel there is something different about it. I will keep it as a symbol of good triumphing over evil, and if I should ever encounter Diabolik again, perhaps it will give him reason to give me a re-match. |
