Having been slowed down by the swamp troll attacks the intrepid warriors and their retinues are forced to camp in the wetlands overnight. In the dank, dreary light of day as the mere-mists rise in the distance a village is spotted. There is however no sign of habitation. No people or animals go about their business, no smoke rises from the fireplaces of homes and cottages. This close to the Fen, perhaps it is difficult to work the land or swamp troll attacks have driven off the small folk.
All is not well. A movement is spotted by the group of to the right, but nothing is there. A fish or frog perhaps. Suddenly from behind some low hills, shapes are spotted... Goblin riders and their ever attendant foul spiders are moving at speed toward the Fen's edge and the group's safest exit. Swiftly the leading forces of the heroes' retinue prepare for the attack. Bows are readied and some of the riders even consider trying to mount up before the enemy meet them. Just as arrows begin to fly, again a movement is spotted, a splash in the water is heard, a shadow moves in the mists and suddenly as if from nowhere, ugly swamp-men erupt from the pools. The fighting is now desperate, and with arrows and javelins flying, the crack of gunfire, the flash of magic and the whinnying of scared and injured horses all around, two large bodies of goblins approach the heroes defensive position. Coming from the village and through the sparse copses of trees on the edge of the fen the greenskins get perilously close but as the heroes cut down the swamp-men and the goblin riders the goblin warband leader calls a halt to the assault.
The heroes have not escaped unscathed, some warriors lie wounded or dying and one of the horses has to be put down and it is now obvious that the Fens themselves have not allowed the heroes to escape unmolested. Many of the men show signs of lung fever and a stop in the village will be necessary...
No comments:
Post a Comment