Myths & Gears
Afternoon – Corvis
We’ve made it to Corvis but it was certainly not without incident. Late this morning as we struggled down a narrow cart path through a mire, we were attacked by Swamp Gobbers!
It was midmorning and we had less than half a days travel left before we reached Covis. The cart path had wound its way deep into a swamp and we were having trouble keeping the carts from becoming mired in the thick mud the trail had become. I was in the last of five wagons, with Kah, Stringer and the Dwarf in subsequent order up to the lead cart which was being driven by Gunner. A thick fog had rolled in and I was certain that we would lose the trail and end up axle deep in mud when the lead horse let out with an agonizing wait. From somewhere in the dense fog ahead of me, I heard Gunner yell out: “AMBUSH!” As if on cue, darts cut through the air like a swarm of angy bees.
Quickly, I stood upon my wagon and tried in vain to make out anything in the soupy fog that had engulfed us all. “Tis Magical Fog” I head Stringer yell out from his wagon. “Swamp Gobbers are among us!” Just then, I spotted six Gobbers make their way through the fog shrouded swamp to my cart and begin cutting at the cargo that was strapped to it. As I jumped to the ground to engage them, I saw Kah darting off into the fog from the corner of the eye and then heard the sickening split of bone as he tore into the Gobbers with fists, elbows and knees.
Once my boots hit the soft earth I drew my blade, said a quick prayer to Markus and engaged the closest Gobber. He was too busy sawing at the ropes that held several chests to the side of the wagon to notice the deadly arc of my blade before it was too late – warm blood splattered across his companion to the left who barely paused in his attempt to free the cargo from its tethers.
Through the curtain of fog surrounding me, I could make out little. I believe I heard Gunner call out in pain once or twice and could head the muffled sounds of fist on flesh as Kah made short work of the Gobbers near his wagon. With another swift cut from my blade, I dispatched yet another Gobber. With the blood of their companions splattered across my armor, I addressed the other four that were attempting to loot the wagon I was on: “The rest of you will fall just like your brothers have. Flee while you have the chance!” My attempt to intimidate the little buggers worked, sort of. Two of them fled while the other two seemed to take my threats as a challenge – they advanced on me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I say Kah moving to aid me but I turned to him and told him I had these two taken care of and directed him to engage the Gobbers that were robbing Stringers cart unchallenged as Stringer seemed to have fled, was hiding or was off engaging foes away from the cart. My moment of distraction was all the Gobbers needed to land a wicked blow. It’s dagger sunk deep into the crease between my armor and I could feel a steady flow of blood begin to pour from my body. I was badly wounded and would certainly fall if I took even the smallest wound. In that moment, I steadied my thoughts and channeled the power of Markus. His strength flowed through me and my wounds healed thanks to his blessing. Bolstered by the power of my protector I stepped forward and prepared to cut the little Gobber down but from somewhere in the fog a larger Goblin voice called out and the two buggers in front of me turned and fled. They had not gone more than three steps before they vanished into the fog.
We all regrouped by Gunners wagon where we found the caravan leader cursing over the now dead nag that had been pulling the lead wagon. Swamp Gobbers are cleaver little foes and used a spear trap to kill the lead horse of our wagon train, effectively blocking any attempts at fleeing. Well, unless you fled on foot, into the swamp like the drivers of all the wagons had done. Loos like we’d be pulling double duty for the remainder of our trip – guards and drivers. After quick prayer to Markus to heal Gunners wounds, we brought one of the pack horses up and promoted him to lead horse for the remainder of our journey. Impressed with our work, Gunner said he had a lead on more work for us once we got into Corvis.
Just past midday we pulled into the glorious city of Corvis. It had been quite a while since I had been here to train as a Cleric in Service of Morrow but the City of Ghosts was certainly a sight for sore eyes. We made our way through town and soon arrived at the Temple of Morrow. While we unpacked the wagons, Gunner ran into the temple calling for Father Dumas the whole time. Before long, Gunner and the Father had returned. After unpacking, we sat down to talk with Father Dumas who wished to speak to us.
The city, according the Father Dumas, has experienced a rash of grave robberies as of late. Father Dumas would like us to investigate as the Watch is too busy with preparations for The Longest Night festival which is coming up. While he cannot offer us any gold, nor would I accept any while aiding in church business, he can provide us with room an board at the temple, which is very generous of him. Without hesitation, we all agreed to help. It would seem that this little job to Corvis has placed me in an adventuring group with an investigation on our hands. Funny how Marrows will works, isn’t it?
As I write this, I sit in the barracks of the town guard. The rest of the group has done their separate ways to take care of various lines of business with the intent of meeting back at the Temple in two bells. I’ve gone to the barracks to meet with the captain of the guard and get his permission to speak with the guardsmen and host a dinner in their honor. The captain was very much agreeable to this and I have made arrangements for a local eatery to host us tonight. I very much look forward to interacting and speaking with the brave soldiers that protect Corvis but that will not be for several hours. Until then, I wish to speak to the Captain again and see if he has any information about the grave robberies or can at least show me on a map where the various robberies occurred.
May Markus protect me,