Post
by waysoftheearth » Mon Jul 12, 2010 12:24 pm
waysoftheearth wrote:
The blockade is but a ten minute march down the frosty hill slope, but despite the wind and rain having ceased before dawn, the morning air is sharp and all feel the chill on your hands and faces.
Even before you reach the site of yesterday's battle you can see the carrion birds at work. Half a dozen large, black ravens and twice as many smaller birds are picking over the hoary bodies of the fallen, and scatter only reluctantly as you trudge back into the muddy, broken up campsite.
"That's a sober sight," grumbles Victor, and spits with distaste.
In all there are seven horridly bloated and frozen Hobgoblin corpses laying in awkward positions of rigor in the mud and frost. The heavy, decapitated body of Bolgog lies central among them, but his ugly head seems to be missing. Then you spot the cold muddy thing, far too displaced from the body for your liking.
Then you notice that many of the frosty limbs are bent at strange angles, and the pale bodies do not lie exactly flat to the ground. It is becoming clear that none of these bodies lie exactly where they fell yesterday. They must have been turned over during the night...
[f=32]
Golgildir the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak,
lantern; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges;
torch[/f]