We appeared upon a hilltop a half-day’s ride from Dawnport, trading port on the Sea of Shellnigan. The hill was home to a shattered fort that had once been used in the defense of the land against the trolls of the Trollsweat Swamp at one point, but had been found wanting, though the trolls were beaten back in the end. Since that time, no one had bothered rebuilding the fort.

Which was not to say that the ruined fort was unoccupied, of course. The broken walls played home to a rotating cast of residents over the years, from bandits to monsters to refugees, and more. Adventurers would clear it out now and then, but new creatures always took up residence.

The current residents were bandits, from the look of them. Six of them, all male, and most of them human, though I saw one that was clearly a dwarf. None of them looked as though they had bathed in weeks. Wretched scum.

I preferred monsters to ‘civilized’ people. They, at least, were honest about what they were, and didn’t pretend. I’d seen too many people, in this life and my last, that wanted to pretend that they were ‘good’ or ‘righteous’, and were more monstrous than any goblin.

That was why the warband I had forged on the glacier was full of monsters and outcast races like the Frostfolk. They didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t. They fought because they wanted to, and for the loot and glory they’d gain from it. They didn’t dress it up in some kind of noble façade. They were honest.

They were also a fair sight more intelligent than these bandits, because they recognized my power without me needing to make example of them. One of them rose up from a section of the wall, and leveled a crossbow at me. “Oy, bird girl! You look like you have some fancy trinkets. Hand ‘em over, and no one gets hurt!”

Bandit Leader’s Intimidate (Melinda): 1d20+11 = 16

Melinda’s Modified Level Check: 1d20+21 = 33 (Success)

I simply looked at the worm, and laughed. Honestly, the gall to think that he could try and intimidate me into giving up what was mine without a fight? Clearly, he was too stupid to be allowed to live. I’d be doing the world a favor if I ended him.

Melinda’s Attack (Bandit Leader): 1d20+27 = 39 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 10d6 = 31 (Cold) (Dead)

Melinda’s attack (Bandit 1): 1d20+27 = 40 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain Damage: 15 (Cold)

Bandit 1’s Fort save: 1d20+2 = 13 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

Melinda’s attack (Bandit 2): 1d20+27 = 43 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain Damage: 15 (Cold)

Bandit 2’s Fort save: 1d20+2 = 15 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

Melinda’s attack (Bandit 3): 1d20+27 = 45 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain Damage: 15 (Cold)

Bandit 3’s Fort save: 1d20+2 = 16 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

With a flick of my wrist, an icy orb flew from my fingertips, and struck the bandit leader dead on the spot. He must have been even weaker than I thought! Still, they couldn’t have been too weak, since the three men behind him remained standing, if only barely.

One of the ones who were fortunate enough to avoid my first shot held up his hands real quickly, doing his best to seem non-threatening. Or maybe he was just trying not to piss himself. “Mercy! Thad were a bit too quick wit’ his tongue, and not wit’ his brains, but the rest of us know better. You be lookin’ like a busy sort. No reason for us to keep ya here, right? What say we all go on our merry, and forget dis ever happened, yeah?”

One of the ones who had been hit by the secondary blasts snarled. “But the bitch went an’ killed Thad! I say we—URK!”

Whatever he was going to say they did, I never got to hear, as the one asking for mercy stabbed his blade into the bandit’s throat, dropping him to the ground like a boned fish. He glared at the other thieves, before looking back at me. “Now, as I was sayin’, no point in wastin’ yer time here, right?”

“Hmph. You, at least, appear to have a modicum of wisdom. I will let you live, for now.” I stroked Ebonheart’s mane. “Come, Ebonheart. These small fry are not worth our time.”

The black unicorn simply snorted in agreement. As much a fan of the slaughter as he was, he still didn’t find any sport int killing those who weren’t any kind of a challenge. With that in mind, a mist formed around his hooves, as the magic in his horseshoes activated. Prancing forward, he began flying, rising up into the air at a speed faster than a normal horse could go.

The bandits, wisely, did not try and stop us. Unfortunately, they were so weak that, even if I had killed all six, they wouldn’t have netted a single point of XP. That was the problem with growing in power as quickly as I had. There wasn’t any point in fighting no-name bandits and their petty bands. I literally gained nothing from it but aggravation at having my day disrupted.

That was why Ebonheart followed me, as well. He was stronger than a normal black unicorn, having been through more than a few battles, even before he met me. But, as we had gotten stronger, it became harder to find satisfying foes to prove ourselves against. The number of beings that could prove a challenge to someone of our level was few, and many of them were ancient beings with power that, no doubt, dwarfed our own.

I quickly realized that my initial estimate of Breledo, on Truyle’s border, being two tendays from Dawnport was a tad bit faulty. The last time I had been this way, after all, was when I was younger, and I was traveling with a caravan of merchant wagons. That trip had been made all the longer due to the road making several turns to find suitable river crossings and other common issues, to say nothing of the need to avoid the Trollsweat Swamps, necessitating a long detour that added a tenday all on its own.

However, the swamp was long, but not that wide, but it was quite long, mainly following the path of the Darkroot River until it hit the sea. If someone could make a straight line from one side to the other, even at the widest part, it would be only thirty-six miles across. But no one could afford the expense of building a road through the swamp, and keeping it safe from the constant attacks by trolls.

For us, though, that thirty-six-mile slog through muck and mire was only a half-day’s ride through the air. A couple trolls attempted to throw the logs from felled trees at us like javelins, but we were too high for them. They soon lost interest, once they realized that they couldn’t knock us out of the sky.

Coming down closer to the ground on the other side of the swamp, I couldn’t help but smile. At our current pace, I felt we could make the gates of Breledo by the end of the third day, rather than the twentieth! Amazing how much a difference not being burdened by a cart or wagon made.

At night, I rested in the igloo created by my magic. We stood watches, of course, through the night, but we needn’t have bothered. After all, despite being on the trade lane, we were not close enough to any landmarks to make a bandit base worth its while, at least, not until we got closer to the border.

At noon on the third day, the outer walls of the fortress-city of Breledo came into view in the distance. Those walls marked the border of the kingdom of Truyle. But what caught my eye was not the city itself, but the scene before the walls.

A gypsy’s wagon was speeding down the road, drawn by a pair of horses. From this distance, I could not make out who the drivers were, or what their affiliation was. However, it was clear that they were fleeing towards the city, hoping for shelter from the forces pursuing them.

As for those forces? They were a troop of riders, seven in total. They rode in a loose formation, each clad in gleaming plate armor, their swords unsheathed. I could clearly see the symbol of Torm emblazoned on their cloaks and shields. Paladins, then, probably hunting someone they viewed as evil. And they were gaining quickly upon the wagon.

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+27 = 29 (Miss)

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+27 = 33 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 15 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+22 = 30 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 16 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+17 = 34 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 13 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Before I could decide whether or not to intervene, a volley of brilliantly-colored arrows flew out from somewhere on the side of the road. Clearly, someone else was here, and decided that they didn’t like paladins enough to try their luck. I laughed, and launched myself from the saddle, diving down towards the suddenly confused paladins. “Come, Ebonheart! It seems as though we’ve found worthy prey!”

Initiatives

Szel

Siora

Melinda

Palodius

Vestele

Ebonheart

Paladins of Torm

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+27 = 30 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 14 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+27 = 36 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 14 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+22 = 36 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 13 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Szel’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+17 = 32 (Hit)

Soulbow Damage: 1d6+10 = 13 (Piercing)

Wounding: 1 CON damage

Another volley of arrows blasted out from the side of the road. Each of them struck home on the still dazed leader of the paladins. This time, however, I could track the arrows back to their source, a clump of bushes well back from the side of the road. Whoever was shooting at the paladins was a very good shot, because they were well outside the normal range of a bow!

Siora’s CL Check: 1d20+18 = 33 (Success)

Siora’s Mass Whelm: 10d6 = 32 (Nonlethal)

Palodius’s Will Save: 1d20+19 = 30 (Success, no damage)

Palodius’s Mount Will Save: 1d20+19 = 25 (Success, no damage)

P1’s Save: 1d20+16 = 36 (Success, no damage)

P1 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 34 (Success, no damage)

P2’s Save: 1d20+16 = 27 (Success, no damage)

P2 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 26 (Success, no damage)

P3’s Save: 1d20+16 = 18 (Fail)

P3 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 18 (Fail)

P4’s Save: 1d20+16 = 29 (Success, no damage)

P4 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 30 (Success, no damage)

P5’s Save: 1d20+16 = 34 (Success, no damage)

P5 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 17 (Fail)

P6’s Save: 1d20+16 = 33 (Success, no damage)

P6 Mount’s Save: 1d20+16 = 26 (Success, no damage)

The occupants of the wagon, seeing the odds turn a bit more in their favor than seven on one, apparently decided to make a stand. One of them, a woman with raven hair and wearing a breastplate made of mithral, turned and leapt into the air on demonic wings. As she approached the paladins, she unleashed a spell, causing one of the paladins and two of their mounts to stumble slightly.

Melinda’s Attack (Palodius): 1d20+27 = 33 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 10d6 = 32 (Cold) (Dead)

Melinda’s Attack (P1): 1d20+27 = 45 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 16 (Cold)

P1’s Fort Save: 1d20+18 = 35 (Success)

Melinda’s Attack (P2): 1d20+27 = 33 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 16 (Cold)

P2’s Fort Save: 1d20+18 = 28 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

Melinda’s Attack (P3): 1d20+27 = 29 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 16 (Cold)

P3’s Fort Save: 1d20+18 = 29 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

Melinda’s Attack (P4): 1d20+27 = 42 (Touch) (Hit)

Hellrime Chain damage: 16 (Cold)

P4’s Fort Save: 1d20+18 = 25 (Fail, -4 DEX for 10 min.)

Making my entrance in style, I swooped down next to the group of paladins, and unleashed a bolt of icy power at the leader. That appeared to be enough to finish off the paladin, as he yelled in agony, before slumping down in his saddle, only held on by his stirrups, it seemed. The bolt chained to four of his friends, as well, spreading the love.

The second of the women driving the cart brought the horses to a stop, before she, too, took flight on batlike demon wings. As she came to rest at the rear of the vehicle, a javelin that visibly glowed with magic in her hand, I noticed the shine of mithral coming from the full plate armor she wore. More importantly, as she took in the scene, I noticed that both her armor, and the heavy shield she carried, were emblazoned with the symbol of Malcanthet, the demon queen of the succubi. That was a symbol I had not seen in years, but I would recognize it anywhere.

I heard hoofbeats, as Ebonheart ran hard to catch up to me. “First kill goes to you, Iceheart! Let the blood flow! May the slaughter bring joy to Garagos the Lord of War!”

One of the Paladins clearly realized that they weren’t going to win this. “Fall back, my brothers! We are not prepared for this fight! We will take Palodius to the temple, and gather new strength!” Then, he looked at the fallen paladin’s mount. “Rainflash, take Palodius home!”

The horse, more intelligent than a typical warhorse thanks to the bond with his paladin, neighed in answer. The next instant, spells flashed from the armor or each of the warhorses’ barding. When the light cleared, all seven horses and their riders were gone.

Your party drove off 6 Paladins of Torm and Palodius, Champion of Torm!

Melinda gains 1500 XP.

Ebonheart gains 1275 XP.

Siora gains 1500 XP.

Vestele gains 1500 XP.

Szel gains 1500 XP.

I clicked my tongue at the paladins all running away from the fight before I could end them, but I didn’t have time for such thoughts. Before I had even cleared away the message from the Voice of the World, I was tackled by two very attractive demon-blooded elves.

Siora Faydark, my old companion, was the first to speak. “Melinda! It is so good to see you again! And you’ve grown up hot!”