The Old Druid
The old druid mostly stayed in and around New Tanaan these
days, but just recently he had been venturing out more. He describe the
experience of living in the suburbs as a 'living death' to his wife when she
could be bothered listening to him.
'Yes, this is a great house and a great neighbourhood. And
yes the kids are getting a great education, this is the Plane of Knowledge
after all,' he'd say after a pleasant dinner. 'But I'm a druid. I have
responsibilities back on Norrath. I have to be seen to be helping the cause,
and besides wandering is in my blood.'
His wife, if she ventured an opinion would say, 'I'm not
stopping you. I understand this. We can manage without you for a while if need
be.'
She was not from Norrath. He wasn't entirely sure where she
was from. She had come to New Tanaan as a baby and never spoke of her
homelands. She had arrived back in the days the Priests of Discord were opening
portals to here, there and everywhere, so it could have been one of many
places.
He'd never given up the adventuring life and once the guild
had broken up had done a fair bit of time-travelling, following the trail beaten
by others more powerful than him through the Plane of Time, to the Void and
then on to the old days around Antonica. He couldn't be bothered with that any
more, he'd helped protected Oceangreen from the various plagues of Bertoxxulous
and felt he had done enough.
As a consequence though, he'd brought back a lot of gold and
platinum with him, ancient coinage not exactly stolen from the past, just... he
saw it as more like letting the money take a short cut. Not only that, but
masses of magical items, weapons and armour. Half of it he had sold to buy
furniture and paintings for the house and the other half hung on the walls in
his dining room that he liked to think of as his 'Hall of Honour' where all his
trophies from decades of adventuring hung.
His wife called it the 'Hall of Junk'.
His life was cluttered, but the bank manager in New Tanaan
loved him. He had more money than he knew what to do with, so when he went a
wandering around Norrath it wasn't for financial gain it was merely for the
enjoyment of it and the opportunity to do some good. All his friends had long
since retired so he almost always travelled alone. Sometimes he hired a
mercenary from the depot in town, a sly dark elf or a tough dwarf. Just
recently he'd been travelling with a butch ogre wench called Tiktak. She wasn't
much to look at, but was handy to have around when a horde of gnolls attacked
out on the Steppe.
He'd patrolled the Steppe a few times now and the gnolls
knew to leave them alone. Although the travelled fast, they did not travel
lightly. He owned several magical bags that contained huge amounts of magical
junk, who knew when you might need a magical firework stick right? Or two types
of magic stones that would make lights appear around you, or an enchanted
fishing rod.
The old chap had explored every nook and cranny there just
recently and before returning home called in at Surefall Glade.
'Hello Corun!' he called happily as he emerged from the
caves that lead to the glade.
'Leave the bears of the Glade alone! Oh... hello Roztov!'
'You and your bloody bears. You know, the bears where here a
thousand years ago and I'm sure they'll be here a thousand more.'
'Not more of your time travelling nonsense!' groaned the
game keeper.
'You should get out more.'
He now did all his trading here and he didn't really care
that he was getting terrible prices. He gave half of it to the tribute master
anyway.
For a long time he had kept a trader in the Bazaar on
Luclin, but in the end he had paid her off. He was so rich now he couldn't be
bothered with the trip up there to collect the money.
Later that evening he was getting drunk in the Ranger's
Station with the other druids, when he realised just how comfortable with his
life he was getting.
'I need a new challenge, lads. I've been slaughtering were orcs
in the Loping Plains and clockworks onboard Fortress Mechanotus for months now.
Is there anything happening on Antonica? What news of Crescent Reach?'
The rangers and druids nodded sagely, they were home bodies
all, never straying from the glade any further than Qeynos, but they did pick
up rumours from other travellers. One of them said, 'I hear they are at war
again. The Grey Legion is back in the passes around Direwind...'
'Good enough for me!' said Roztov as he stifled a burp,
'I'll go take a look!'
One week later, after clearing it with the wife and hiring
Tiktak he waved goodbye to his family and teleported right out of his living
room and appeared at the druid ring that hid in a sheltered valley of the
Direwind region of Antonica.
It would take a few days of travel through hostile terrain,
but Roztov knew his way well enough having trekked all around the region in his
younger days. Tiktak was not light on her feet, but had an all but unending
endurance and kept up with her employer well enough.
***
Zryan was with his old pal Keshik, on yet another scouting
mission up into the mountains to keep an eye on the Legions. Armies were
forming again in the valleys and soon they would have to go back to Crescent
Reach and inform the council. It was an old story, they had been at war for
years and no matter how many times the Legions of Dyn`leth were beaten back it
was not long before they were back, filtering down through the valleys of
Direwind and into Sunderock Springs.
It was late in the evening and they were having their
supper. They were very close to the Legion, no more than a hundred metres away,
but they were experts at hiding from prying eyes and besides, this far up the
Legion knew they were safe enough and posted no pickets.
‘That’s the last of the rations then,’ said Keshik as he
stirred the pot that hung over their sheltered fire. It wasn’t much, just a few
dried up old vegetables from way back in the Springs, stewed and made into
soup.
‘We should go back tomorrow, while the mountains are
passable. There is nothing to hunt up here, everything is diseased,’ said Zryan
sagely to his friend.
‘I’m well aware of that,’ grumbled Keshik. ‘It’ll be a hard
trek with empty bellies but perhaps we’ll meet a trader on the way.’
‘I doubt it at this time of year.’
Zryan was used to going without food, but he was getting old
now, even for a drakkin. He was starting to think of retirement. The idea of
his family and home life warmed him as much as the fire.
Just then he was woken from his revere when there was a sound
from further down the valley. He climbed up onto a rock to see who approached.
The other drakkin whispered up to him, ‘What do you see?’
‘A druid and an ogre. I think the druid knows we are here.’
And sure enough they were soon joined by an old fellow and
his bodyguard.
‘Anything to spare in the pot?’ asked the druid happily as
he sat down by the fire and warmed his hands.
‘Well...’ said Zryan. He knew druids were always laden down
with food that they gathered as they travelled. It would be odd for them to be
begging from strangers.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the old druid with a smile and nodded at
the ogre.
She then reached into a satchel and began to pull out
rabbits, vegetables, fruit and berries in vast quantities.
‘You probably don’t remember me,’ continued the druid,
‘Roztov is the name, and this is Tiktak. I used to come up here sometimes when
I was younger. I remember meeting you then.’
The scouts nodded, even if this was true they didn’t
remember, but then, a lot of adventurers came this way and they’d been up here
on and off for forty years.
‘What’s going on further up?’
Zryan cleared his throat, ‘Uh, well. Grey Legion, hundreds
of them, camped all the way up to the pass. They’ve occupied the watch towers
too, probably all the way up to the Ashengate.’
The druid helped himself to a bowl of soup and as he sipped
the hot broth he said, ‘If you don’t mind then me and the big lass will take a
look tomorrow morning.’
‘Be careful then old timer,’ said Keshik. ‘The Legion don’t
take prisoners.’
The druid just smiled and blew on his soup, ‘Oh, I think
we’ll manage.’
The next day Zryan and Keshik watched from the rocks as the
druid and his huge companion walked up the valley as if out for a morning
stroll.
‘That crazy old fool is going to get himself killed!’ hissed
Keshik in despair.
‘Do you think we should help?’
Keshik began to string his bow. Zryan nodded to his friend
then jumped down from the rock he was perched on and quickly broke their camp.
Once he had gathered up all their gear he joined Keshik at
the rocks.
‘Look...’ whispered Keshik in awe as he pointed up the
valley.
The druid was at the first enemy camp. The Legionnaires were
only just awake but they strapped on their armour and drew their weapons as the
old man approached. The drakkin soldiers seemed more concerned by the ogre and
approached cautiously. The druid began casting spells, calling down lightning
and huge clouds of stinging insects. Crazed with fear and pain the Legionnaires
fled.
Keshik turned to Zryan and said, ‘The old chap has got
power. We’d better follow on!’
One after the other the druid hit camp after camp and with
fire, lighting and insect swarms he either killed or drove off all the
Legionnaires within. He was moving so fast that the scouts had difficulty even
keeping up with him. So far the ogre wench had not even drawn her sword, she
just plodded along after her employer carrying their bags.
‘This old fellow...’ gasped Keshik, catching his breath. ‘I
can’t believe it. He’s driving them before him. Like a wolf chasing a flock of
sheep.’
‘He may have met his match now though...’ said Zryan
hoarsely. He had spotted a large group of soldiers coming down the valley at
double time. Sergeants, clerics, mages, a concentrated counter attack.
The druid met them all head on, summoning up huge swarms of
insects that turned the whole of the valley floor black. The counterattack
broke in a matter of minutes before the plague swarm and fled back up the
valley or jumped in the river.
For the rest of the day they followed the trail of
destruction as the druid rampaged further up the valley and then one by one
destroyed the forces that guarded the watch towers. Even the giants that
guarded them were slain, falling down off the cliff side into the valley below,
struck by sheets of flame and bolts of lightning.
‘He never stops!’ gasped Keshik. ‘He never tires!’
By evening they had reached the gates, guarded by two huge
golems, each easily fifty foot tall. The druid paused and tugged on his beard
as he pondered his next move.
The scouts caught up with him and did their best to get
their breath back.
‘Good evening gentlemen,’ he said nonchalantly.
They remained silent in reverential awe, but surely, thought
Zryan, he wasn’t going to tackle those giant golems alone?
The druid munched on a haunch of rabbit meat then washed it
down with a bottle of beer.
‘Ok Tiktak old girl,’ said the old fellow, ‘Time to earn
your pay. You take the one on the left and I’ll take the right.’
The ogre grunted and for the first time that day drew her
swords from the scabbards on her back. Both blades glowed blue.
Zryan watched in amazement as the druid and the ogre ran
down to the golems and took them on at full speed. Flames, lightning, ice
storms, the druid threw everything at them. Meanwhile the ogre went toe to toe
with them in combat. The battle raged on for tens of minutes, the magic lighting
up the sunset over the mountains like a display of pyrotechnics.
First one golem fell, like a tree with a thump that shook
the ground, then the other.
The druid and his mercenary were already running for the
gates before the second one landed.
‘He’s not stopping!’ Keshik cried in amazement.
Together they ran to catch up the druid and got to the gates
just as the entire Black Legion was coming to realise they were under attack,
having just moments before thought they were safe as could be behind the golem
defended gate. There were dozens of camps here and near a thousand
Legionnaires, drakkin Legionnaires and orcish mercenaries. It was a slaughter.
The scouts clambered up onto a promontory of rock to get a
better view of the battle.
‘He’s just... he’s just ripping through the camp. It’s a
complete rout.’
Zryan could only nod in agreement as the battle raged on.
In one last desperate counter-attack, a hundred of the strongest
Black Legionnaires charged at the druid, but he summoned up bears, fey, drakes
and yet more hordes of insects to send them flying back in retreat.
The druid then wandered the area, from camp to camp, driving
off the last holdouts and slaying anyone stupid enough to stand against him.
As the night wore on, the battle ended and the area was
quiet, lit only by the flames of the burning tents. The scouts carefully
approached the centre of destruction and found the druid sat on a supply chest
rolling himself a cigarette. Behind him a large campaign tent fell over in
flames with a muffled crash. The ogre warrior was wiping blood from her swords
with a dirty rag.
‘I think we are about done now anyway,’ said the druid.
Zryan was not sure what to say, but eventually Keshik said,
‘Uh, thanks, I guess...’
‘Should make them think twice about coming down that far
again anyway.’
The druid looked at the burning end of his cigarette in
contemplation for a while. Zryan wondered what it must feel like to possess as
much power as that. The druid had done them a great service, but he’d also sent
a thousand souls on to the afterlife.
Eventually the old man flicked the butt end of his cigarette
into the flames of the tent and stood up.
‘Well old girl?’ he addressed the ogre. ‘Home time.’
He looked over the scouts then said, ‘Want a lift to
Crescent Reach? We can drop you off on the way.’
Zryan nodded. Five minutes later he and his fellow scout
were back in their home city.
Roztov entered 103 Market Heights as quietly as he could,
but his wife was awake anyway, cooking food for the next day.
‘Oh, your back,’ she said with a sniff. ‘You smell like
burning.’
‘Ah yes. I think I’ll take a bath actually.’
‘Did you have fun on your travels?’
‘Oh you know. The usual sort of druidy stuff. If you happen
to be boiling the kettle I’ll take a cup of tea, I’m absolutely parched!’
