The Lanik Pass
Cy 4850 Jun 26th – 27th
The heavy boots of the Rosen army can be heard above them. Malethrax and his companions, along with Rell the mercenary captain, one hundred mercenaries and the remaining seven thooligans share sanctuary in the tunnels beneath chateau Malethrax. Above the chateau Malethrax’s hawk, Breeze, surveys the area – through the birds eyes the elementalist sees the Rosen troops strip his chateau of livestock, food and anything else useful. The mustering force is quick to assemble and quick to march east toward their target – Dros Goran.
Rell and the party discuss the wisdom of joining either army. The mercenary captain is eager to ply his trade and is not concerned particularly which army he joins. A consensus is reached to head west to the border where Drusor Luckwarden, the legendary Drenai captain, has a force of more than a thousand men.
Hujal Nazan and Malethrax cast Mount spells and lead the group west.
Before they have travelled a league they notice five bodies in a field. Rosen scouts probably. Zavien Scurge checks their wounds; each man has been felled with a single bow shot to the throat…there are no other injuries.
The Lanik Range marks the border between Drenai and Rosen. It is a towering range of mountains with few natural passes for an army to cross. As the party reach one such pass (the Lanik Pass) they notice Drenai veteran troops regarding them cautiously. Malethrax and Rell are unchallenged as they make the steep climb toward the summit of the pass.
The tall figure of Drusor greets his friend, "What a rabble!" he laughs. "But a welcome rabble…come my friends and eat."
Just behind the warrior stalks another old friend. The tall Marraq archer called Veldus inclines his head with an evil smile, his deadly Darkbow already knocked with an arrow.
The Lanik Pass is a narrow gorge between two imposing rock walls. Along a natural break in the walls are the battlemented parapets and natural fortifications of the soldiers of Drenai, at two hundred feet above the pass they have an unrestricted view of anything that moves. At the southernmost end is a narrow opening and the spot where the stone is stained with the blood of many Rosen soldiers. Malethrax grins; "It’s a killing ground."
As night falls the Rosen troops hurry into the pass. The vanguard of heavy infantry head straight for Drusor in an attempt to punch through the lines and double back up onto the walls of the gorge. But Drusor has his most experienced veterans with him and the tide of Rosens crash like a tide against a solid wall. Grapples and rope ladders are quickly deployed as the Rosens attempt to gain a foothold on the walls. As they climb the Drenai loose arrows and oil onto them. The initial death toll is staggering – but still the Rosens come.
Malethrax unleashes an Ice Storm at the climbers; huge fist-sized rocks of ice that knock them off their perches and to their deaths below. Hujal, Zavien and Danat Peres hurl rocks or shoot arrows into the Rosens and it appears the battle is almost won.
But the Rosen archers step up to support the climbers. A swarm of shafts rain down on the Drenai positions like locusts the air is filled with death. Many Drenai soldiers fall to their deaths and Fray Sool, the young sorcerer, is among them. A further scream from Malethrax sees a shaft skewer his leg, felling him in pain. Suddenly the fight seems more dangerous. Soon some of the Rosens begin to gain footholds but Danat and Zavien are upon them. The martial artist kicks several to the ground as the assassin fights hand-to-hand with others.
Despite the pain Malethrax hurls another Ice Storm into the battle as he tries to staunch the flow of blood from his severe leg wound. Hujal Nazan casts a Shield and grins as the arrows bounce off the invisible shield. He studies the battle carefully, trying to find a leader figure, a captain down below that commands the troops. Sure enough he spots a man who manipulates the men around him with words and deeds. Hujal concentrates hard and brings to the forefront of his mind the Power Word of Destruction. He is a fledgling adept of one of the most powerful of the Nine Arts of Magic – but he draws power from within.
He focuses on the leader, his mind only seeing the destructive force of his own will. With the utterance of the single word all sound ceases. A brief second where no howls of pain or shouts of anger can be heard, as if the sheer force of his will forbid anything but the power itself. Suddenly the Rosen leader’s head topples from his shoulders to the horror of the men around him.
Hujal rejoices in his first Power Word, tastes the bittersweet taste of raw power. The Rosens lose heart then. Like the tide ebbing away they retreat amid the taunts of the Drenai soldiers. Drusor gathers the party around him; he surveys the damage, the casualties with a practised eye. Upon seeing Malethrax he calls for the priest. Irilea is a dark-haired Drenai beauty – a young priestess of Willowstar who has found herself in the middle of a horror.
"The wound is bad," she informs Drusor, "I am not sure I have the power left to heal him – there are many wounded."
"Just make him walk," Drusor states.
After a Cure Serious Wounds spell Malethrax thanks the priestess. He can walk – albeit with a limp.
Rell has lost all but eighteen of the hundred or so mercenaries that came with him. He sighs as Drusor gives him an encouraging slap on the back. The veteran warrior moves around his troops giving solace and support where it is needed.
Inevitably the second wave of Rosen troops enters the pass. Hujal takes the precaution of casting Shield on Malethrax, Danat and Zavien before the next wave hits. The Drenai watch enthralled as a wooden construction on wheels (like a fortified moveable building) trundles up the pass. As the Drenai hurl rocks and fire arrows onto it slits appear in the roof and small detonations can be heard inside. From forty small holes come fizzing balls of heat that leave snake-like trails of steam behind them. Some explode violently in mid-flight whilst some shatter against the parapet of the walls and unleash death. Small projectiles rain onto the Drenai cutting many of them to pieces. The party shelter wisely as a second volley of missiles is in the air. Following the second strike the climbers with grapples and the spearhead to take on Drusor rush forward.
Initially the numbers of defenders are depleted allowing the Rosens to gain a better foothold on the walls. Soon reinforcements take the place of the slain and the fighting is as fierce as ever. Danat Peres kicks one man over the edge before driving his cruel dagger into the face of a second. Zavien battles with a sneaking killer eventually seeing him fall backwards off the edge. Malethrax hurls a Fireball along the wall. The flaming conflagration takes a dozen Rosen troops off the walls as their ropes snap or their skin burns.
Hujal gathers his thoughts once more. But now it is a second Word of Power that he focuses upon. That word is Death. The adept unleashes his second word and watches as ten of the enemy collapse around him and fall dead into the pass. The intervention of Malethrax and Hujal turns the tide of battle instantly. The foothold the Rosens gained initially is now gone – the Drenai urge the attackers back to their deaths and the corpses pile up below.
But such power does not go unnoticed. In the crush of soldiers below is a slender dark robed sorcerer who has witnessed Hujal’s threat and gathers his power around him to strike. Malethrax is the only man to see the danger. His Menelothian gift of Spirit Sense knows something is wrong – he knows that a sorcerer will soon target his friend. Malethrax gathers his own power…
Hujal cannot even see the danger as there is a crack of thunder about his head. It is so swift and sudden that he cannot react – a Lightning Bolt knocks him back against the rock wall but the men of the Nadir are sturdy and strong. The wound is superficial and Hujal snarls angrily.
Malethrax spots the sorcerer. He casts Summon Swarm and nagging insects surround the Rosen magician. To those above it is like the sorcerer has a banner above his head. There is a second crack of thunder but this time it is Veldus, the Marraq archer, who unleashes a deadly black shaft into the open mouth of the Rosen sorcerer.
For the second time that night the Rosen forces lose heart and the tide of foot soldiers retreat back into the Lanik Range to regroup. Drusor once again is at the heart of his troops. "Keep sharp lads," he says, "this night is not over by a long way…"