Legends and Lore

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 15 The dim light was swallowed by the dark. The color faded first, the red blood on his hand went pale then the black came over the edges of his sight like an island sinking beneath the waves. Harold felt a sudden weakness, the world began to swim; he remembered standing on a ship as it approached a harbor in a storm. The world rolled and shifted all around him and then the light was gone, as if a lone candle had been snuffed out. The world returned first with sound, "...ainted. I think." a voice spoke above him; then he felt a bitter metal taste on his tongue. His mouth was dry, and filled with clotted blood, gummy and foul. Harold shifted, coughed and hacked till his throat was clear and strained, then croaked out a few words. "What happened? What hit me?" he asked, but the words came out rough and garbled. "He live? Not dead?" Little Rat asked cheerfully. "I think you fainted," said Telenstil. "You should have bound those wounds," chided Talberth. Harold groaned and sat up on his elbows, he looked like a corpse animated by some foul priest or necromancer, rising from the dead. * * * "We fight," Boss told them, "that one try kill us." "With his arms and legs tied?" Talberth did not care for the scout but he cared even less for the orcs. His voice carried with it the derision he felt for both them and their lies. "I believe them," the ranger came to the orcs' defense. "Back at the steading Derue used his ... read more!

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 13 They wandered down the trail to where Gytha stood beside Ghibelline. The ranger talked with them standing straight and tall, the grievous wounds he'd received healed by the cleric's faith and prayers. "...be more." said Harald. "I know, they will be hunting for us, those wolves of theirs will track us down," Ghibelline said. "There are a few tricks to throw them off our trail," Harald glanced up and down the path. "But this place, they may lose our scent among all these bodies and blood."  * * * Telenstil had been right. The moons were up and still the party was on the move. It was slow going, and despite Harald's best efforts they were leaving an easy trail. They were heading north and west, away from the hills and up into the mountains, but they hadn't left the woods behind. Low branches slashed at them, roots and stones caught their feet, made them trip and stumble; they followed a deer trail that weaved through the underbrush. The ground was rough and uneven, the trail narrow and lined with thornbushes, they moved with a slow and awkward pace. Harald had gone ahead, some said that he had the elven sight but it wasn't true, what the darkness hid from his eyes his other senses revealed to him. It was Talberth and Gytha who had the worst of it, neither could see far in the dim moonlight. Gytha at least had some woodscraft, she'd lived within the hills and mountains of Geoff all her life, but Talberth had been born and raised in Greyhawk, the ... read more!

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 11 "Come along," Harold called to the small orc. "You little monster," he said under his breath. "Wait, wait!" cried Little Rat. "I hurry." The orc slipped from stone to stone following the halfing's path. The two were almost of a size; the small, thin orc was just a hand taller, but nothing more than flesh and bones wrapped in a dirty rag of shirt and pants. Neither wore shoes, the halfling had the wide heavy padded feet of his kind and the orc had soles tough as leather, thick and scarred. Harold stopped, his feet on a split stone projecting from the wall of rock. He heard voices drifting up from below and peered down to see who made them. Between a wide cleft of rock his companions sat in two small groups. The orcs gathered round their leader, while Talberth, Gytha and Ghibelline sat by the body of the man they'd rescued and who'd died this very morning. Ivo sat atop a high boulder, half concealed by the stones around him and a cloak which blended in with rocks dull gray shade. There was a scrabble above, the sound of cracking stone, he heard a small sharp yell and jerked his head around looking up the wall of rock. Harold had time only to raise his hands. A wide-eyed orcish face came hurtling down. Little Rat crashed into the small thief and both went over the foothold in a tangle, both shouting as they fell. * * * Harold barely had time to scream out a curse before he and the orc bounced off ... read more!

The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga - Part 10 Dawn came to the giants' hill. Smoke still drifted from the embers buried beneath the fallen beams of the great hall. Giants and ogres poured water over the splintered wood; others pulled away the charred rubble and stirred the ashes beneath. In the sodden field sat Nosnra, he'd had them drag a table from the ruined hall and benches too. Engenulf's body lay prepared before him, Nosnra used piled boxes and crates to form a throne, then set the table at his feet. They laid the witan down and placed the benches round the throne for Nosnra's warriors, those who'd sworn the oath of blood. The giants put down their buckets, their bars of iron, and their axes. They left the orcs and ogres to drown the fire out then filed past the body of their witan and their chief. They had no feast prepared; the words they spoke were all of vengeance and of blood, the ale they drank, the final toast to their lifeless kin, was thick and bitter from the fallen ash. * * * It was past midday when Harald woke. He'd slept since dawn; hours past the time he'd asked Telenstil to wake him. Everyone else was still asleep except for that other elf, Ghibelline, and even he leaned against the rock wall with eyes closed. "Telenstil," he said to the elven mage who stood by the cliff's edge, "you let me sleep." "You needed sleep," Telenstil answered him. He looked past the ranger at the others who lay crowded under the overhang of rock. "Everyone needed some time to ... read more!