Campaign Journals Part 3 - Brother Naranjir of the Orange Lotus

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This is the last of three Campaign Journals I wrote revolving around the one-shot adventures I ran for each of the new PCs coming in to our regular campaign. This one was for the party Monk. I have house ruled monks in my campaign to be a fighter subclass, which means they have a higher HD, attack and save on the fighter tables and I have added some options to their open hand attacks. They have no thief skills, otherwise they are BTB 1e monks.

Brother Naranjir of the Orange Lotus - 6th level monkS:15,I:12,W:15,D:17,C12,C:9 - AL: LN, Deity: Ganesh

HP:32,AC: 5,MV: 20", NA: 3/2, DA: 2-8, 

Weapons
Lucerne Hammer – 2-8/1-6 [+1 to hit / +4 to dam]*
Daggers - 1-4/1-3 [+3 to dam]
Shortbow – 1-6/1-6 [+2 to hit / +3 to dam]

Magic Items+1 bow
+1 ring of protection

Special Abilities
A. 1 in 4 chance of being surprised
B. Save vrs petrification [9] to deflect missiles
C. Successful saves = no damage, failed saves = 1/2 damage
D. +3 to damage with any weapon
E. Exceed 'to hit' by 5 and monk choice:
1. stunned for 1-6 rounds - kill percentage as PHB
2. knocked prone for 2 rounds
3. disarmed, knocking object 1” in random direction
4. +1/2hp per level additional damage
F. Attack and save as fighter
G. Immune to disease, haste and slow
H. Feign death for one hour
I. Enemies have only 25% chance of reading mind
J. Fall 30' if within 4' of wall
K: Speak with animals

Henchman 3 - Brother Naranjir of the Orange Lotus

Brother Naranjir leapt from the balcony to the ground below, rolling out of the leap and moving to a sprint, he wound his way across the compound as fast as his legs would carry him.

He dodged through the trees of the park, the only place that outsiders to the order were allowed to enter in the compound. He heard the laughter of children with their families, the cawing of some flightless bird the size of a large dog, it was held on a long chain held by man who was brushing off its feathers, yellow with orange tips, when he struck the bird with his hand tufts of bright yellow wafted into the air.

Naranjir passed through the gates that separated off the compound from the rest of the city, he then dodged through the stone garden, filled with exotic stones from various parts of the world, all polished and carved with messages in flowing, beautiful script, messages of distilled wisdom from brothers and sisters past and present.

Then to the training field, at this early afternoon hour it was full, two hundred monks moved their bodies while harmonizing their minds, reconnecting that which the world drives asunder in the chaotic explosion of experience.

Some of them were slowly moving their bodies, performing the motions of combat, the sweep of the arm, the kick of the leg, but all at a glacial pace, then holding individual positions for extended times, all the while focusing all of their will, their intent, into the moment. They moved like they were manikins, repositioned by an invisible hand, then frozen as the world moved around them.

Others moved like clocks, precise and sharp, repeating the same set of motions over and over, a kick, a block, a punch, a roll, sometimes rows of men and women repeating the same motions in perfect synchrony. They burned the memory of these motions into their muscles, making them automatic.

Pairs sparred all over the field, some with weapons, some with only their bodies as weapons, all moved like lightning was caged in their bodies, fast, strong, focused. Blows were received and moved through, bodies rolled out of many of them, weapons stabbed, struck and bowled over bodies, the crack of wood and steel on leather, flesh, wood and steel was a white noise in the air, an orchestra of violence, straining at the leash of discipline.

Naranjir bolted through them and reached his destination, just beyond the fields where the initiates sparred was the massive lotus garden. The monestary was found here in the city as this was where the orange lotus flowers bloomed every year. The garden was overflowing with them. There were paths through the blossoms, but even these were covered with blossoms, crushed under the feet of the initiates, they were a reminder that no one walked the earth without leaving traces behind them, and that leaving the much trodden path, though tempting, was not the way to discipline and beauty.

He walked on one of the paths of crushed blossoms, their orange staining his feet (the monks of the Orange Blossom Monastery were identifiable by their orange feet, or so Naranjir heard two peasant women whisper as he passed one day). He saw Sister Missran sitting atop a garden stone, watching the moon in the afternoon sky.

Naranjir waited for a few moments, and the sister’s eyes did not turn from the moon, but she spoke. Her voice was low and resonant, but not blunt or harsh, it ended the silence of the garden, but it didn’t break it.

“Brother Naranjir, when I meditate, I use my eyes to focus on the moon, contemplating it’s minute perfections demands my attention. But with a spyglass I could see more of those perfections, I know they are there as I’ve looked through one at the moon before. So I know there is more when I look and can’t see it. Why don’t I meditate by looking through a spyglass?”

Naranjir waited for several moments and contemplated. Haste was not the way here. Nothing was ever rushed, nothing was ever so important that it was allowed to disturb the peaceful contemplation of their discipline. It was not that they never stopped devotions, or did not engage with the world, indeed, with their current grand master of flowers being the maharaja of Bhavisyavani, the monastery was more engaged than it had ever been. But it was a considered, unhurried engagement.

“Sister Missran, all of the world is, after all, an illusion, not of insubstantiality, but instead of impermanence. All things, from the dust of the stars to the blossom in the garden to your body, all things are impermanent. So what you see is not what is real, it is the illusion of life. The moon is just the illusion of life, contemplate it as you see the world, with your eyes and this will clear your mind of distractions.”

He walked around to the sister’s front, and added, “The spyglass doesn’t show you everything anyway.”

Sister Missran nodded, then looked puzzled.

“I expected you to say use the spyglass.”

“Why?”

“Well, look at that thing you use as a weapon.”

“I use many weapons.”

“You know what I’m speaking of, that hammer. Your hands and feet can kill and you use a hammer.”

“Yes, what’s wrong with the hammer?”

“A spear, perhaps, or a halberd, a bardiche, these I can understand. But a hammer?”

Naranjir laughed.

“You have seen me fight with the hammer, I’m perplexed you are asking this question.”

Sister Missran also laughed, “Yes, it works for you, but there is no one to teach you further, you are the master of the hammer here.”

Brother Naranjir cracked his neck and sighed.

“It’s solid steel with a hammer and spike head and spike at the end, five feet long. I can use it to stab, the hammer head keeps the shaft from going in too deep, but it’s still a good half foot long, so that’s enough to kill most targets. The hammer head is ideal for punching a hole in armor, the back spike on the hammer head does the same with a pointed end. It is strong enough to use to smash things, I use it as a pivot point for kicks as well, sweep opponents to the ground with it.”

He made a fist in one hand and put the palm of his other hand across from it, he punched his palm and folded it over the fist.

“It’s perfectly designed for a function, using it gives me focus.”

Sister Missran smiled, “I have managed to achieve the same with a staff, I prefer simpler I suppose. Now, today you leave the monastery with me on a task, if you do well then you will be released from the monastery for a year to travel. You achieved rank of master last month, you were victorious in your combat, you have excelled at everything you have been given to do. It is time. I asked to be the one to take you on this last task to decide for myself if you are ready.”

Naranjir was about to speak, but thought better of it.

“The task is simple but important. A warlock from House Tairn is travelling upriver for a meeting, he has requested two escorts from the monastery, in addition to his regular protection, to accompany him. He is not to take House troops, other House warlocks, or House lords along with him, so he is restricted to his stone giant guardian and in this case, two of us.”

“Is this what you warned of, the outside world diverting us from our path?”

The sister shook her head, “No, not at all. The monastery has always worked in some way for the world outside of it, we are not alone. We have gardened, raised animals, produced knowledge by studying the ancient texts, created objects to sell, copied scripts of important texts and provided protection for years. We make no wars, and we do not seek out violence, but in perfecting the martial arts and then using them for others this way we can contribute, and taking payment is a way to ensure our beliefs can continue. We may be pursuing the spiritual and aesthetic but we still need to pay for the land the monastery is on, feed our people, all of these things must be addressed just to survive. You don’t chastise the beetle for eating the ant.”

“I suppose not” Naranjir replied, “may I ask where we are going?”

Sister Missran pointed to the south, “Our mission is to go through the swamps to the edge of the barbarian jungle, there we will meet with an envoy from the southern tribes, our warlock believes that these envoys are tired of constant warfare with the city and are willing to negotiate some sort of agreement. But ours is not to wonder about that, we keep the man alive for the journey and back. That is what matters.”

Naranjir smiled, the journey sounded exiting, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning at dawn, our charge wants to leave early, we are to take giant lizards as mounts  as well, so bring your full range of weapons and supplies for two days journey.”

Naranjir departed and began to assemble his things, he wanted to be sure he was ready for this journey, as it was going to decide his fate for the next while…

*******************************************************************************
The next morning Brother Naranjir showed up at the stables early, the emissary from House Tairn was there when he arrived. The warlock was, as most Bhavisyavani warlocks, outré, he wore a black leather bandolier across his bare chest with six silver daggers inset, a pair of black leggings and boots, his head was bald and covered with a leather skullcap of blue. The right side of his face was tattooed a deep royal blue, with the house crest, a silver wheel, emblazoned on it. He wore six silver hoop earrings on his right ear and a single diamond stud on the left. There were two scroll cases secured to his right hip, and a pair of wands on his left hip. Around his neck he wore a silver chain with a large blue stone at the end.

Beside him stood a stone giant, towering above them all, with the house crest tattooed on his chest and two large metal spheres attached to his belt on either side. Other than a kilt he wore nothing else.

The warlock sat atop the largest spider that Naranjir had ever seen, its fully extended feet easily covered 20’ diameter, and there was an elaborate saddle carved out of what appeared to be orange bone on top, it had cushions on it, and there was a canopy stretched over the rider. It looked very expensive, and very comfortable. And when he looked closer, he saw a bright green miniature lizard curled up beside the warlock.

Brother Naranjir found his giant lizard, checked over his tack and harness, secured his weapons and supplies, assembled his canopy, and joined Sister Missran, who was talking with the warlock when he arrived. Rather than wait for Brother Naranjir to speak, Sister Missran spoke first.

“Brother Naranjir, meet Cinest the Wyre, warlock of House Tairn, we are accompanying him on his journey to the south.”

The warlock’s head tilted downwards and he closed his eyes, then pulled back up again. A slight nod.

Brother Naranjir decided to nod in return and do or say nothing else.
 

The warlock spoke next.

“You are not to speak to any of the envoys we meet, not to discuss city affairs, not to interact with them in any way. I have waited some time for this meeting, I will not tolerate any interference. Keep your eyes open, watch for hostile actions, but I don’t want to start a fight if it isn’t needed. If this comes to blows we will set back my work years.”

Sister Missran responded, “I assure you Warlock Cinest the Wyre, we will only be interested in your safety.”

With that, and some small arrangements around their giant lizards, they were off to the swamplands of the south.

Sister Missran took point, she was carrying a crossbow, a pair of hand axes and a bardiche (Naranjir had watched her fight with that bardiche, it was a fierce weapon in her hands). The stone giant walked beside the warlock on his giant spider, and Brother Naranjir was last in line. They moved through the swamp readily until they arrived at a spot on the river and found a barge willing to take them all. After some haggling and exchange of gold, Sister Missran arranged for the whole barge to be for them, no other travelers.

The barge moved slowly down river at first, but as soon as they passed the great south bend the river’s speed picked up, and so did theirs, as the barge began to make good time. Brother Naranjir had not been this far south before, and certainly nowhere near the barbarian jungle.

The riverside was choked with vegetation, just like the city the swamp was a roiling froth of plants, but outside of the city’s angular streets there was no structure or pattern, things were wild here. At one point Brother Naranjir spotted a pair of black dragons with lizard men riding them, they flew by in rapid succession, but made no notice of their group. Naranjir knew that the lizard men and black dragons were the first line of defense against invaders and hostile forces, and despite the work of Jal Bhains and his lizard men, the agreement of mutual support between the city and the lizard man tribes was still strong.

Brother Naranjir looked at Cinest the Wyre, he seemed like a character out of a strange tale from another land. The warlock sat back, a bowl carved out of the bone of the saddle beside him. This bowl was covered with a glass dome, open at the top, and filled with water, the water filled with multicolored creatures, they looked something like crayfish. The warlock fished one out and ate it as he waited.

Naranjir wanted to ask the warlock a thousand questions, he was fascinated by magic, how it worked, what it could do. He had he impression, however, that the Warlock was not so inclined to talk. So Naranjir scanned he horizon and the riverbank for hostiles. His bow was laid out before him on the saddle and his quiver was open and ready.

They travelled this way for several hours, nothing of note came their way, though crocodiles did follow the barge for a few miles.

They finally made land near a section of the marsh where solid land became more common. They docked, exited on their mounts, and continued towards the distant jungle.

After about a half hour of travelling, they stopped for a moment to drink and take stock of their progress. It was late morning by now and searingly hot in the sun. The all drank extremely well of their water. Sister Missran was in a discussion with the warlock when Naranjir came forward.

“I just don’t know why the tribes would be willing to compromise now, so much blood has been spilled, so many kin slaughtered, are they going to keep any armistice?

The warlock responded, “Even barbarians can tire of death, they have no hope of defeating us except perhaps through gross numbers, and even then. They yearn for something new, I can feel it.”

Naranjir hoped this was true, he did not want to be slaughtered outright when they arrived because this popinjay had a “feeling”.

Then, something strange happened.

There was a keening noise, faint at first but it grew, and it was coming from the necklace around Cinest the Wyre’s neck, the blue gem was pulsing, and emitting that growing sound. Cinest seemed uncertain what was happening, did the necklace have some heretofore unknown function? It bathed Cinest in a glow, deep as the blue of the ocean, and for a moment it appeared that he was underwater, deep down and immersed in liquid sapphire.

And then the warlock disappeared, the necklace falling to the ground.

Sister Missran was unflappable, but this was unprecedented.

“Indra’s Elephant!”

Brother Naranjir had a sinking feeling, he looked down at the gem from his necklace and he saw what appeared to be the warlock shrunk and trapped within. Sister Missran picked up the necklace and peered at the stone in wonder.

Then, there was a sound that Brother Naranjir had heard a few times, the sound of something large moving through the air, with wings… he turned to see a large, majestic red dragon land on the ground, around 200 feet away, between them and the way they had come.

The dragon spoke, its voice was cracked marble, scorched earth, brimstone and fire, “Cinest the Wyre, I have come for you.”

The stone giant and the two monks fell in around the fallen necklace.

“Oh now, don’t throw away your lives for him. He is not worth your lives.”

The dragon reared up to full height and shot out his wings to full extension.

“Let me tell you why it has come to this. This dog and his friends broke into my cave, used magics to defeat me and pressed me to the service of his house for a year. I was bound, yoked, beaten.”

Naranjir could hear he hate dripping off of every word.

“Then last year I escaped my captivity, and I realized I might just get to see my revenge come to fruition. You see, when Cinest plundered my home he stole a necklace with a blue stone, it is paired with a crown made of gold set with the same blue stone. I had both, they took the necklace but not the crown. These items have an interesting feature, if they are apart more than a few days then when they are brought back together the necklace immediately transports the wearer to the blue stone, where they are imprisoned. So all I needed was the crown. When I escaped I returned to my old cavern and found most of my treasure gone, and for months I travelled and terrorized, I took on human form and chased down every rumor until I found the merchant who had purchased the crown. I took it from him and found a tribe willing to deal with Cinest to get him out of that wretched city. And here you are, with no troops or fellow warlocks to hide behind.”

The dragon’s maw saw smoke curl up and out, it’s eyes blazed bright.

“Give me the necklace and leave here alive, resist me and I will char you where you stand.”

Naranjir knew the dragon was not boasting, they were likely too far for it to attack from where it sat, but once airborne they would be completely vulnerable.

Sister Missran spoke boldly, without a trace of fear or weakness, “If you char us, you char the necklace, then your revenge is short lived. Creatures of long life want their revenge to last, do they not?”

The dragon laughed, it was a sound Naranjir could have done without hearing.

“Very true little one, you are clever”, the dragon responded, “however…”

Slowly a group of 8 creatures approached from the opposite direction, they were taller than men, covered in dark blue fur, with hooked claws and fangs, their arms reached to the ground, and several of them held objects made out of a strange lustrous white rope.

“AHH, perfect. My associates have arrived, I needed you to stay until they got here, so I’m glad you were willing to listen to my sad story.”

Sister Missran handed the necklace to Naranjir and said one word.

“Run.”

End of entry

Brother Naranjir ran.

He was counting on the dragon not breathing on him as this might damage the necklace he wore, the necklace that contained the warlock Cinest the Wyre. However, there were 8 creatures approaching from ahead of him, so he had to make a fast decision. When faced with the choice between the dragon behind him and the creatures in front of him, Naranjir chose instead to run to his side and into the jungle.

Sister Missran had bolted to the side and away from the stone giant, splitting made more sense to avoid clustering and becoming easy targets for breath weapon attacks.

The dragon began to take off and the stone giant took one of the large metal spheres on its belt and it stood, turned on its foot three times like a discus thrower then hurled it through the air at the dragon. It flew straight and fast and struck the dragon full in the side, leading it to emit a bleat of pain, and then turn its path in the air and head towards the giant.

When she saw the dragon pivot to head towards the stone giant, the Sister Missran found a tall cluster of reeds and took refuge there, completely concealed. She pulled out a stone the size of her hand, it was marble, a mixed up brown, red, black and blue stone, perfectly spherical and shone to a mirrored perfection. She whispered the words, “Király föld”, and held the stone in her hand.

The dragon swooped down towards the stone giant as it ran in search of a rock, its hand on its second iron sphere. Naranjir guessed the dragon planned to grab the giant to drop it from a great height.

The giant found itself a large rock on the ground before the dragon had reached him and he grabbed it and immediately corkscrewed three times and released the rock with a mighty force. Naranjir remembered why the stone giants were favored as guardians for Lords and Warlocks of name, they had great range and excellent aim. The dragon, who had been flying as fast as possible to grab the giant, was in no position to dodge, and took the rock full in the side trying to duck under it.

The dragon shot well past the stone giant, Naranjir and Missran.

Sister Missran felt a rumble in the ground and knew she was ready, she climbed out of the reeds with the stone in her hand, and ran on to dry ground until she was fully landlocked.

**************************************************

Naranjir ran, the jungle trees, bushes, roots and the riot of flowers did nothing to give him guidance where to run, so he followed the only trail he could see through the trees, no doubt laid down by local hunters.

He heard crashing, whooping, hissing and screeching behind him, delicate foliage was crushed under heavy arms and legs, trees bent as the long armed indigo creatures climbed upwards and jumped from tree to tree, sometimes crashing them over, but in other cases crashing through branches and moving fast.

He could outrun them, but any misstep... it was inevitable. The stone felt heavy around his neck.

Naranjir decided to get out of the trees, they weren’t providing any meaningful cover at this point anyway. He found a clearing with the things hot on his heels and ran into it, then, once about halfway out he turned to face the edge of the treeline, about 150 feet away.

Naranjir tore open his quiver and sank five arrows into the ground, point first. He took out his bow, nocked a sixth arrow, and pulled, waiting.

One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats, then the first blur of blue exploded from the trees, screeching foul curses, Naranjir breathed in, focused, held, one, two, three...

Release.

The arrow tore through the air, skimming on the wind, and slammed into the creature in the lead.

It appeared unfazed.

Naranjir nocked and let loose another arrow.

It flew true, and hit the creature again, this time cutting it’s arm... it looked angry, hissing and spitting.

Naranjir drew and fired again, and again, two arrows in rapid succession as the beast was maintaining a straight run towards him. The thing had a long knotted rope with a metal ball at it’s end in his hand, he swung it and swatted away one arrow, the other he managed to dodge.

Naranjir grabbed the next arrow, exhaling, and released, this one flew up and down, arching nicely and taking the beast unawares with an arrow to the leg. The creature howled and stumbled, almost crashing, but continued.

Two more of the things crashed out of the trees.

Naranjir grabbed the last of the 6 arrows he had started with, the creature was only around 20’ away, the monk let the arrow loose and turned to run before seeing the result.

The arrow drilled into the creature’s eye.

Naranjir turned slightly as he ran to see if he was being pursued, and he saw a small stone flying through the air towards him, one of the things had used its bright rope to make a sling. It crashed a few feet away, and Naranjir sprinted again.

The beast with the arrow in its eye died.

Naranjir was faster than the beasts, but he needed to put more distance in between himself and them, otherwise he would get picked off with sling stones. The clearing ended and Naranjir entered the jungle again, pulling south in case he eventually decided to loop back around to where he started.

He turned to look before he entered and saw two of the creatures looting the body of the one he had slain, taking the rope and some other items off of him, all the while laughing like hyenas.

Foul beasts, Naranjir thought.

Five more burst from the jungle behind him to the clearing as Naranjir dissappeared into the jungle again. He had a lead of about 300 feet...

*************************************************

The dragon had turned around and was coming back, in the time since it had flown over them and started its turn the monk had joined the stone giant and stood with him.

With the both of them together the dragon decided to use its fiery breath, when it was hurtling towards them it opened its gigantic maw and breathed infernal destruction. A cone of red hot fury roared out and immolated the ground around 50 feet from the pair and as the dragon flew the flames moved forward with it, inexorably, towards the monk and the giant.

As soon as it pulled back its head to breathe Sister Missran lifted up her hand with the stone in it an in front of her a gigantic hand exploded from the ground, made of rock, the hand turned and placed itself on the ground. Then another hand emerged, and they pushed against the ground, and then a massive granite head, then shoulders, then a barrell chest of marble and iron laced stone, then a fully formed earth elemental stood before the monk and the giant. It towered a full 30 feet into the air.

The dragon’s flames bathed the elemental, but did not destroy it; the monk and the stone giant were protected. The dragon itself tried to pull up and away but was already committed and going far too fast. When it passed close by the towering elemental put its two hands together, laced its fingers and swung its massive stony fists at the dragon, smashing it in the side and knocking it out of the air to crash on the ground.

The elemental then collapsed back into the ground. There was a rumbling as it moved through the ground and reemerged to loom over the dragon. The beast was now afraid for its life and it breathed hell on the elemental a second time, but again, the elemental was not destroyed.

Then the elemental was re-absorbed into the ground again.

The dragon looked around incredulously, and began to move when two massive arms exploded out of the ground and grabbed its tail. The elemental arose from the ground and pulled on the dragon, whirling it around twice before throwing it through the air to land about 100 feet away with a huge crash.

The elemental disappeared into the ground again, and reappeared moments later beside the dragon, rearing up and bringing its massive stony hands down on the beast, smashing it with a tremendous blow.

The dragon roared.

The elemental stood motionless and unmoved.

The dragon began limp back, keeping its eyes on the elemental as it moved. The beast was weighing the options, another fiery blast or flight. It was unable to take off at the moment, so it kept a sharp eye on the huge elemental.

”Cinest the Wyre chose his protectors wisely, little one, you have defied me. I will leave now, as he is imprisoned and I refuse to risk my life or my freedom for anything. I will not be bound again.”

The dragon smiled and disappeared.

Sister Missran was tempted to try and follow the dragon, she was unsure if it had went invisible, or magically transported itself away, but she was more concerned with her charge and whether or not he had survived those blue, long armed creatures or not.

She was not sure that the dragon was really gone though, so she kept the elemental in tow for now rather than sending it back.

************************************************************

Brother Naranjir had an idea.

The creatures were sufficiently behind him that he had time to climb a tree, and he did so. Once up in the tree he took out two long daggers and held one in each hand.

After a minute or so he heard crashing and shouting and the first of the blue creatures appeared below.

He let it pass without response.

This continued until all but one of the creatures had passed by.

When the last creature passed beneath him Naranjir dropped down from above, landing on the shoulders of the thing he drove both of the daggers into its chest, eliciting a scream of pain. He pulled them out and drove them back down again, this time one in its neck, one on the side of its head.

He then dropped down to the ground behind the beast as it stumbled forward, bleeding from four separate dagger wounds.

The creature lurched back and forth, and Naranjir charged it, there was a brief moment when the beast gathered up its energy and swung one of its long arms at Naranjir, but it was already weakended by the wounds and missed badly, stumbling to the side. Naranjir then drove both of his daggers into the side of the creature as it passed, when he pulled them out blood streamed out freely, and the beast collapsed and died.

There was a rumble in the ground, like a mild earthquake, then a sound like a roaring fire off in the distance, then a loud crash. Then moments later another loud crash. Naranjir could only guess what was happening. Those sounds died down and Naranjir listened to the jungle and heard the sound of the other beasts coming back towards him. He turned and sprinted out of the jungle and back into the clearing, once sufficiently far out he stuck four arrows into the ground and waited.

This time the beasts spread out to surround him, rather than charging him directly.

Naranjir picked the closest creature and fired two arrows at it. One missed, one hit on the arm. The creature moved in towards the monk and he fired off two more shots, both hit, and the beast slowed down.

Naranjir dropped his bow and took out his lucern hammer.

The wounded creature charged at him, screaming and bleeding as he ran. The others held back to see what would happen. Naranjir contemplated a few options, then planted his pole arm in the ground to receive the charge of the creature.

It arrived angered to the point of complete abandon, Naranjir braced and aimed and when the beast attempted to dodge to the left of the hammer the monk anticipated and shifted the spike point of the hammer enough that the beast slammed into it at full speed.

It squirmed on the pole arm and bled out dead.

Naranjir removed the pole arm and swept it in an arc.

Five of the creatures remained. Another one charged at him, bellowing as he ran, and Naranjir began to run towards him as well. When he was close enough he planted the lucerne Hammer in the ground and used it to vault over the creature, landing behind it on the grass. The blue beast shot past Naranjir and turned around to face him.

Naranjir went on the offensive, he used the pole arm to vault, but this time he aimed the leap for the creature’s stomach, and slammed both of his feet in with a mighty blow.

{Leaping Priest}

The creature stumbled back several feet and grunted.

The other beasts howled and roared in amusement.

The creature lurched forward to attack again and Naranjir dropped his Lucerne Hammer, bracing for the charge, when it was just about to reach him Naranjir grabbed the beast’s arm and dropped to the ground, pulling and using the creature’s momentum against him he planted his foot in the beast’s abdomen and threw it into the air. The beast’s speed worked in his favor and it came crashing down on its head, letting out a bark of pain.

{Giant’s Throw}

It lay on the ground, crumpled and stunned.

Naranjir took out his dagger and slit the creature’s throat.

Two of the four remaining creatures charged him, two of the others fled.

One of the chargers held what looked like rocks in his hands, each about 4 inches across, and he stopped and threw them.

Naranjir waited until the first stone was very close before moving to the side as it whistled past. The second one however was too close to dodge, so Naranjir swung his hand and knocked it aside harmlessly.

The second beast continued charging, it had a long rope with a metal sphere on the end and he was swinging it around as he ran.

When the creature was close enough Naranjir met him with his pole arm, but rather than planting it to receive the charge (never do the same thing twice, good advice Naranjir remembered now) he swept the creature’s feet as it approached and it came crashing to the ground.

Naranjir took advantage of his prone opponent and pulled the lucern hammer up and brought it down in a crushing blow with all his strength. The hammer head smashed into the beast’s back, blood spurted and bones crushed underneath the strike.

Naranjir looked over and saw the beast that had thrown the stones was now charging him as well.

The creature on the ground regained his feet, and bellowed in rage.

Naranjir bolted before they could reach him, he was still faster than both of them and he needed to avoid those claws and fangs. One of the creatures threw another stone at him, and this time he only barely dodged it, feeling the brace of the wind as it passed.

Naranjir stood his ground as the first of the two beasts, already wounded charged closer.

When it reached him Naranjir dove to the right of the thing as it passed, rolling out of the dive so as to be standing immediately.

{Falcon’s Flight}

The beast stopped and turned around, and Naranjir ran forward, circling the thing as it drooled in anticipation of a fresh kill.

The beast threw a punch in the monk’s direction, but Naranjir easily pulled aside.

Naranjir delivered his most direct and forceful punch to the side of it’s head.

{Hammer Blow}

The creature grunted and swung back a claw much faster than Naranjir anticipated, and clipped his arm, spraying blood into the air.

Naranjir spit as the beast turned around, and delivered a pair of blows, a powerful side kick to its abdomen which led the beast to exhale and stumble back, and another strike to it’s head, smashing the butt of his hand into the creature’s nose, breaking it and spraying blood.

{Roundhouse Kick and Monkey’s Paw}.

The creature stumbled back.

By this time the second creature had reached them, and it let out a sound that Naranjir felt was probably a laugh, perhaps it was mocking its companion, he could not tell.

The newly arrived beast took out a rope construct of some kind and watched as his companion, reeling from the monk’s blows, regrouped and attempted to grapple with him, hoping to crush him in his oversized arms.

The creature wrapped both arms around the monk and held him, but Naranjir managed to pull an arm free, he pulled it back and smashed the creature’s neck with his fist, but there was no reaction as he had too little leverage to make the strike work.

{Hammer Blow}

The beast stumbled back and renewed his efforts, Naranjir felt the crush of the beast’s embrace.

He then pushed one leg into the beast’s stomach and pushed his body out, giving him room to pull back the other knee and smashed it twice in the stomach as hard as he could, the second time the creature’s body gave way as his internal organs were torn by the blow.

{Crab Leg Blow}

The beast’s arms slackened, dropping Naranjir to the ground, unmoving.

The last of the creatures was only a few feet away from Naranjir. The monk’s ribs and arms hurt.

The beast took out a net of the white rope and hurled it at the unsuspecting monk, but he managed to leap out of the way just in time.

The beast came forward, claws out, and attempted to hit Naranjir, the blow missed him by a margin.

As the creature moved past Naranjir struck at it’s knee with a powerful stomping blow from his foot, but missed.

{Crane’s Leg Strike}

The beast cackled and cursed in a language Naranjir had never heard. It bellowed and leapt at the monk, attempting to crush him in his two large arms.

Naranjir charged forward as well, but slid down and smashed his foot into the charging beast’s leg and passing underneath it, sending it sprawling, then he took several long steps, jumped into the air and came down hard, driving both feet into the beast’s skull, crunching it’s beneath.

{Snake Bite and Locust’s Strike}

Naranjir hopped to the side as the creature scrambled to get to its feet, giving him another opportunity for an attack. As it rose up from the ground he drove the heel of his foot into the creature’s head, the second blow to the head was too much, and the creature fell, stunned, to the ground.

{Buffalo Leg Strike}

Naranjir wasted no time slitting its throat.

The monk quickly ran over and retrieved his bow and Lucerne Hammer, the latter splattered with blood that he wiped on the grass.

**********************************************

Brother Naranjir emerged from the jungle, he had sore ribs and a bleeding arm, otherwise he was sound. And the Warlock Cinest the Wyre still hung in a blue stone from his neck.

To the surprise of all present the stone giant spoke.

“Brother, I am pleasantly surprised to see you alive.”

Naranjir was unaware that the giant had any thoughts at all on his well-being, but he nodded in thanks nonetheless.

”Where is the dragon?”

Sister Missran didn’t turn to look at Brother Naranjir, but she responded, ”He may be here, he may be gone, the elemental damaged it badly, and the giant had wounded it twice as well.”

Naranjir smiled, ”I will still feel better when we return Cinest to his House, the dragon thirsts for vengance, I would not doubt if he was still around, waiting for the right moment...”

Sister Missran replied, ”Let us find our mounts, we sent them off when the dragon arrived, they should be in the marsh nearby. We will be vigilant and between us he should not be able to catch us unawares if he is still here.”

They took a half hour and located and gathered the mounts, including Cinest’s spider mount, which was attached by rope to the others, and they slowly headed back towards the city.

*********************************************

Gruentharn the Sly had been damaged enough by the giant and the elemental that he could not fly, however, he had spell casting ability, and he had planned for this day for some time. He was presently invisible, a spell he reserved for times such as these. He also had a spell to fly, in case he was incapacitated in this way, and he cast it now, rising into the air and flying towards the shantytowns.

In a short time he found himself at the outer edges of the shantytowns. Having spent time polymorphed as a human and wandering the city and the shantytowns, he knew were to go. There was a large encampment of bandits and mercenaries that served a warlord he had worked with before. He went to the encampment and found it partially occupied, many of the bandits were gone. There were still a number of them milling about in the late afternoon, practicing combat, drinking, gambling and shouting around the grounds near the tents.

Gruentharn made himself visible again, and the mercenaries that were there all began to panic, some stood rooted to the spot in terror, some began to flee.

Gruentharn pulled up to full height and blew smoke out of his mouth.

”All of you stay put or I will burn you to the ground without hesitation.”

Most of the mercenaries stood still, desperate to flee but terrified by Gruentharn’s words into staying.

”Your master, Tollrog Bornstel, has called on my aid in the past, I call on his now, take up your arms and follow me, we have a warlock and a persistent pair of monks to catch and kill. Refuse me and I will roast you all and eat you alive.”

Several of the mercenaries who had served with Tollrog for a time recognized the dragon, he had worked with the warlord several times to their mutal advantage, after Tollrog was the last surviving member of a party that had tried to kill Gruentharn and steal his loot. Gruentharn had taken a liking to the warlord and they had developed a strange but productive friendship.

A group of about fourty mercenaries, armed and armored, followed the dragon into the marshes to locate the monks, the giant and the entrapped warlock.

Gruentharn the Sly’s revenge would not be denied...

The three solitary figures began the trip home. 

Sister Missran and Brother Naranjir started their journey at the riverbank. They each spoke with a number of small animals, fish, birds and a snake or two. They asked each to be on the lookout for a large red dragon, or any group that walked on two legs.

They wished to avoid bandits, House parties and such, with the warlock’s essence imprisoned in a gem, the sooner they returned the better. Their animal scouts would be their roaming eyes and ears.

Brother Naranjir kept his eyes on the sky, he was not convinced that the dragon was gone, it seemed too bent on revenge to just fly away when bloodied.

Sister Missran scanned the marshes around them as they rode. The group had discussed travelling through the trees to avoid being seen from above, but they all agreed that it would make the trip much longer, and thus make the odds of encountering something unpleasant much higher, so instead they stuck to following the river, there was a fairly well-worn path there.

As they rode and the giant walked, Brother Naranjir turned to the stone giant and spoke, “What is your name?”

The stone giant’s face was unreadable, actually, it was almost always unreadable, as the stone giants expressed very little emotion.

“Tor Lun”, he replied with no flourish, “Tor for my father, Lun for my mother.”

Brother Naranjir nodded.

“And why do you serve the houses?”

Brother Naranjir had always wondered why the stone giants did this, but he had never felt it appropriate to ask. Given what they had just been through together, he felt otherwise. Sister Missran was about to speak, no doubt to upbraid Naranjir for the question, but she stopped herself.

Tor Lun was silent for a moment then spoke, “Years ago, there was a tribe of stone giants that lived in the marshes, some distance from the city. They were attacked by invading forces who enslaved their leaders using magics, and the tribe was put into bondage. The Lords of Bhavisyavani, under the direction of Maharaja Haor Niol, a warlock without peer, saw fit to destroy their oppressors and free the giants. Some say it was for their own safety, as a force of stone giants in the hands of a hostile power, threatened the city. Others say it was due to a vision that Haor Niol had, one where the giants were allies with the houses.”

The stone giant stopped for a moment, picked up a large stone, perhaps a foot in diameter, and tossed it back and forth between his hands. He then started walking again.

“In gratitude for their freedom, the tribe sends every third child, once they are of age, to the city, where they serve a House for 10 years, after which they may stay or depart as is their wont.”

Brother Naranjir interjected, “But is this not just another form of servitude?”

The stone giant looked at Brother Naranjir for several moments, saying nothing, then spoke again.

“Forced servitude is not the same as honoring a debt, Brother Naranjir, honoring a debt is a privilege, forced servitude is stolen freedom.”

Brother Naranjir had no reply.

Sister Missran spoke up and interrupted the conversation. Further up river, perhaps a mile or so away, she could just see a snaking procession of what appeared to be soldiers or mercenaries, they looked human, they were armored and their appeared to be weapons on their person, or at least it appeared so from this distance. 

“We will soon be joined.”

Naranjir and Tor Lun looked ahead and saw the force approaching. They were moving fairly slowly and on foot, Naranjir could see some mounts amongst them, but at this distance he could not be sure how many. One mount moved and jumped high enough to suggest it was a giant frog.

Sister Missran scanned the sky and after a moment and then directed her mount over to a large qitin tree, it had tendrils that erupted from a central trunk, each as thick as a regular tree trunk, and were pulled down by their own weight to splay out in all directions, as if some wayward celestial kraken had crash landed here and its tentacles were all that remained.

The tendrils were covered with birds, most red plumed with striations of dark blue, others much larger and black with orange mottling, and a third species whispy white, with feathers that shed a fine dust when they flew. The first birds were completely silent, the second emitted periodic “caws”, and the third made no sound while flying, but while resting emitted a sharp tick once every few minutes. The birds were all drinking by sticking their beaks into the tendrils and extracting the tree’s sap.

Sister Missran held her breath for several seconds, clearing her mind and opening it to the animals. After a few seconds one of the large black birds with orange mottling shook its head once, twice, its eyes opened wide, and it cawed loudly.

Being an initiate of the Orange Blossom Monastery meant mastering the body in all ways, and Sister Missran had near-total control of her body. In unlocking the body, the initiates also unlocked the mind, and many of its unknown abilities. Some initiates had full blown psionic powers, but most gained a small number of basic abilities due to their mastery. As they rose in discipline initiates could slow down bodily functions to appear dead, accelerate the body’s self-healing systems, mask their mind from probes, and were less likely to be surprised as they had an unconscious extrasensory awareness of their surroundings. 

And they could communicate with other life forms. 

These things appeared magical, but they were not.

Sister Missran spoke, her mind connected to the mind of the bird, both would hear thoughts that were translated into their own languages, the bird would hear “caws”, the monk would hear words, but these were mere epiphenomena of the mental bridge she had formed. Their minds were touched.

“Where have you flown, sister.”

The bird replied, “Up and down the river, along the banks, and then down, and over the river, and in the pools near the river, by the water, and under the sky.”

Sister Missran nodded, “Did you see the men that approach from where the sun sets?”

The bird replied, “Yes, there are as many as the nights of a month, and a week more than that, or so, and they ride, frogs, big ones, not all, but some. They march to a boom da dun da boom, and they clank and drag.”

Birds were scattered communicators, Sister Missran reminded herself.

“Are there any others in the group, just the men and the big frogs?”

The bird, that had been hopping from foot to foot, its head bobbling up and down, stopped frozen, and its eyes widened.

“There’s a dragon with them… it moves on its belly at the back of the line…” it spoke in a low caw.

Sister Missran turned to Naranjir and Tor Lun.

“The dragon comes for us.”

Tor Lun tossed the rock in the air and caught it.

“We fight, dragon’s hurt, probably can’t fly.”

Sister Missran turned to Naranjir, “What say you Brother?”

Brother Naranjir had spent his life learning how to vanquish foes with strategy, tactics and the force of body and of weapon. He considered their opposition, and their strengths, and he applied the principles that had been taught to him by Sister Dahnov, the monastery’s most able warrior and currently in charge of their teachings. 

“They can harm us with missiles or with numbers, one on one I am confident that we can handle any of them, other than the dragon of course. So we need to counter their missile fire and spread them out, I suggest we flee to the trees and pick them off one by one.”

Brother Naranjir turned to Tor Lun, “You have a good arm, and greater range than they will, there are ample small rocks here by the river, and more than a few larger ones, if you could pepper them with rocks until they reach the range of their weapons, it would buy us time and whittle down their forces, maybe even get them to disperse. We will also find out if the dragon is airborne or not.”

They nodded in assent, and Tor Lun picked up a medium sized rock, perhaps two feet in diameter, and he spotted the snaking line of men. Naranjir and Missran spoke to their mounts instructing them to run down the river path until the next bend where they would be spotted by the approaching group then to cross through the marsh and towards the city. 

They would send a few men off to check the mounts to ensure no one was magically hidden atop one, or that they didn’t send away the necklace on the mounts. Perhaps the dragon might even show his hand by chasing them.

When the mounts left Tor Lun began to gather a pile of rocks.

“Which is better, the small or the large?” Naranjir inquired.

“Larger rocks don’t go as fast, and are spotted faster, so they don’t hit as often. Smaller rocks are faster, and they don’t see them comin’, so sometimes that’s better. Both do about the same amount of killing though, heavier and slower hurts about as much as small and fast, as long as the missile is hard.”

Tor Lun dropped a 3 foot diameter boulder on the ground beside him, taken from the riverside.

“Rocks are hard.”

Naranjir nodded. The mounts reached the bend and went on far enough to be spotted by the oncoming men. Naranjir and Missran sprinted to the trees at this point, and Tor Lun took out his first stone. He decided, somewhat whimsically, to toss a smaller stone so they would not see it coming. 

He corkscrewed around three times and let loose a stone about a half foot in diameter into the air. As Naranjir reached the trees he saw the stone arc up, sail through the air and whistle down and smash a mercenary in the side of the head, caving in his skull. His body waved and dropped off the giant frog it had been riding upon.

Then there were screams and shouts.

And the dragon reared up its head. 

Tor Lun let loose a much larger stone, about 2 feet across, and it arced up high and landed mere feet from the dragon’s snout, crushing two men on foot in front of the beast.

The dragon roared, moved to the side and charged up and along the riverbank toward Tor Lun. It moved impressively fast, almost scurrying across the ground like a lizard. 

Tor reached for a flat, mid-sized stone, about 2 feet across, and threw it as low as he could manage. It shot out of his hand, skipped across the river twice and smashed into the front line of the procession, taking out a giant frog, it’s rider and two other men behind them.

Then the men scattered.

The dragon roared again, possibly trying to intimidate the men into keeping their formation, but it did not work. They started to scatter to the marshes around the river.

Tor managed two more large rocks, and took out 4 more men, before the dragon was close enough to get his attention. The beast had been damaged badly in their last fight, but Tor was unsure if the dragon had healed at all. And it could still breathe on him.

Naranjir and Missran were in the trees, they reached a point about 100 feet in and they stopped before splitting up.

“Only reveal yourself when you can eliminate your opponents quickly, if they raise the alarm you could quickly become outnumbered. No mercy, kill as fast as possible, every second your enemy is alive they can turn the tide against you.”

Brother Naranjir nodded at the advice, and the two monks separated, but kept within a short distance so they could aid one another if needed. 

Tor picked up one of the largest boulders he had nearby and hefted it, he then shouted to the dragon.

“You scuttle like a bug, old bull, come any closer and I will squash you like one.”

With that he hurled the rock through the air and it crashed into the river mere feet from the dragon spraying water everywhere, the droplets catching snatches of mellow end of day sunlight, making the river look like liquid gold.

The dragon hissed, slowed, and stopped. 

It bellowed back at the mercenaries, “Find the initiates and bring them to me!”

The mercenaries eagerly fled from the river towards the trees, most ran in groups of 2 or 3 men, and the spread out to find their targets.

The dragon blew smoke out of his maw, and then charged towards Tor Lun. The giant heaved his first stone, it flew up and forward and smashed into the ground just beyond the dragon as it ran down the riverbank.

Tor Lun then grabbed one of the iron spheres off his belt and began to run towards the dragon. He charged down the riverbank as the dragon did the same and just before they met Tor Lun leapt into the air with his iron sphere high in his hand, while the dragon roared and a pillar of fire erupted from its mouth. Tor Lun plummeted down through the raging fire to land on the dragon and smash it with all of his force with the iron sphere. 

The dragon cried out in agony as the stone giant grimaced in pain. Tor Lun threw himself into the river as the dragon stumbled to the side, grievously wounded.

Naranjir and Missran had climbed trees and waited in the boughs above as groups of mercenaries moved by. The trees were lush and the colors varied, so concealment was easy to find. Naranjir waited as several groups of 2 to 3 mercenaries passed by. When another group approached he decided that they were the last group, and as they passed below he waited until they were just past his tree and he dropped to the ground with his Lucerne Hammer in hand.

The hindmost man turned to receive the flat head of Naranjir’s hammer on his temple, it smashed in and he died instantly. Naranjir then swung the hammer back in the other direction and its back hammer spike punctured the neck of the next mercenary, and he gurgled and slid off to the ground, dying. For the last man Naranjir planted the butt of the hammer in the ground as he ran, springing forward and smashing his feet into the mercenary, snapping a few ribs and knocking him flat. 

Naranjir then swung the hammer over and down, smashing through the mercenary’s chest open.

They all died choking on their own blood.

Naranjir looked around and saw no one nearby, but heard the sound of fast moving feet. He had made enough noise to draw attention, but not enough that they were already on him.

Sister Missran played a different game. She watched as a group passed under her, then another passed under her a few minutes later. One of the members of this second group turned around and happened to notice her in the tree above, and was on the receiving end of a crossbow bolt to the stomach, leaving him bleeding out on the ground.

She then dropped to the ground and charged the closest group of men, while the further group, its fire lines blocked, charged forward.

The first group of men took out weapons, longswords, and moved to engage Sister Missran. She didn’t slow down in the slightest, instead she charged forward and at the last second as she passed one of the mercenaries she leapt through the air and her outstretched foot smashed into his hand, breaking it, and sending his sword flying. 

[Viper Kick]

The man reached for a knife but Sister Missran had landed close enough that she struck back with her elbow into the man’s back, and was rewarded with a “snap” as something broke. 

[Shark Bite Strike]

Sister Missran then faced his friend, he lunged forward with a forceful sword thrust but she easily stepped to the side, and then brought down her fist into his stomach, hard. 

[Hammer blow]

The mercenary doubled over, and Missran smashed his face with her knee, and his body drooped and fell to the ground, blood pooling everywhere.

[Frog Leg Kick]

The three approaching men thought better of their charge and two stopped and pulled out crossbows, the third ran off to the side to stay out of line of fire. The mercenaries aimed while Sister Missran charged at them, two crossbow bolts sang towards them. 

Sister Missran dove to the ground under one of them and came up and out and smashed the other to the side with her right hand.

She then ran after them directly. The one who had left the crossbowmen had his sword out and he met Missran’s charge with a swing and a miss. She then smashed her palm into his nose, driving his bone into his brain, killing him instantly.

[Cobra strike]

She whirled as the two men charged her and tackled her from the side. One of them was fairly strong and had her pinned, but she quickly smashed him in the gut with her knee, loosening his grip. That freed up a hand and she delivered a quick, focused blow to his chin, snapping back his head hard.

His grip loosened entirely as he slid to the ground.

One of the men drew a dagger but Missran grabbed his wrist and pulled his face forward into her knee, spraying blood everywhere. 

The mercenary collapsed to the ground.

Naranjir whistled quickly and Sister Missran turned in his direction, she could hear nearby shouts as men closed in on their location. 

The two monks moved towards each other and located a pair of large trees that had a clear line of sight to the worn path. Two groups of three mercenaries each came bounding down the path in their direction, Missran and Naranjir were concealed with their missile weapons at the ready.

As the first mercenary entered the “kill zone” Missran let loose a crossbow bolt, it sang past the mercenary, just missing him. Naranjir shot twice, both times striking his target and killing it.

The men stopped in a panic and the four remaining mercenaries, now having a sense of where they were, ran towards them with axes and swords out. Naranjir fired off one more shot but missed, and then he dropped his bow and switched to his hammer and Missran to her falchion.

The first mercenary arrived and swung his sword, Naranjir stepped to the side then whacked the soldier with his Lucerne hammer, and the man crumpled to the ground, dead.

The second mercenary swung an axe at Naranjir, he blocked that with a side swing of his hammer, then pulled back the hammer to smash the axe-wielder in the head, killing him.

Another mercenary came at Sister Missran with a sword, but she blocked him and countered with a powerful blow that tore open his chest, and left him bleeding to death. The second man panicked and thrust with his sword. Missran pulled back from the blow then brought her falchion down in a sky to ground that split open the mercenary’s head.

They could hear the approaching men.

“Back to the trees”, Sister Missran pointed up to the high branches of a nearby tree, “take your bow and climb up there, you can pick them off, I will engage them on the ground.”

Naranjir did as she asked.

The men were running in groups of three. The first group arrived in the clearing and saw Sister Missran standing in the middle, her falchion bloodied and hanging at her side, in her other hand was a short length of what appeared to be a bound cord that split into multiple strands at the end.

The first mercenary reached for his crossbow and Brother Naranjir let loose with an arrow that pierced his neck. He fell to the ground dead.

The second mercenary charged at Sister Missran, while the third pulled up his crossbow, already loaded, and shot at Brother Naranjir. He missed by a good margin, and Naranjirs bow twanged a second time, the arrow flying and missing his target by a few feet as a gust caught it mid-flight.

The first mercenary reached Sister Missran with his sword over his head, she let him make his huge cleaving blow, which she easily dodged, and as he swung down she whipped out the cord, wrapping it around his arm, and pulled him to the ground. Her falchion then swung down in an arc and neatly separated his head from his neck.

The mercenary with the crossbow was loading it when an arrow flew through the air and speared his gut, dropping him to the ground. 

Then from behind them three more men appeared, and from the other side of the clearing three more.

Naranjir fired two more shots, he had 6 arrows left. The first flew true and pierced the mercenary’s heart, and he tumbled to the ground.

The second clipped the man on the arm but did not kill him.

The two men charged forward while the three men on the other side did as well, all converging on Sister Missran.

Naranjir got two more shots off, the first finished the wounded man, the second landed in the knee of another man, leading him to crash to the ground thrashing in pain.

Three men remained to converge on Sister Missran.

She took her falchion two handed and ran towards them, as they approached she ducked under the first blow and sliced open her opponent’s chest with her falchion, the second man she tripped with a blow from her foot and he splayed to the ground.

[Whip kick]

She then leapt straight up into the air and landed a blow with her foot on his neck, snapping it instantly.

[Elephant’s Foot Strike]

The last man made a game effort at a stab that might have done the trick, but Sister Missran blocked with her falchion and then smashed the man with her hand, knocking him back and down.

[Fist with No Fingers]

She then swung the falchion down and stuck him to the ground.

Naranjir rejoined her on the ground

“I think we have stopped the majority of them, we need to see if the dragon has ended Tor Lun.”

The two monks sprinted back to the riverbank, keeping an eye out for mercenaries. They found the dragon collapsed on the ground, not dead, but not vital either. Tor Lun had crawled out of the water on to the riverbank on the opposite side, burned but not dead.

Naranjir approached Tor Lun.

“You yet live, Tor Lun?”

The giant coughed and winced in pain, “Yes, I yet live.”

The dragon hissed and blew smoke.

Sister Missran spoke to the dragon, standing near but not so near it could reach her without moving.

“Tell us how to release the warlock, or I slay you now. You are not flying away, your fire is gone for now, you have a simple choice. If you refuse, House Warlocks will free Cinest, it will just take time and resources. I offer you life, dragon.”

The dragon, battered and beaten, spoke in a hoarse, burned voice.

“Hold the gem and speak the word, “Ulossin” three times over, the entrapped soul will be released.”

Naranjir held the gem and spoke the word as instructed, there was a warmth to the gem, then it vibrated, then there was a sound like cracking ice and the warlock Cinest the Wyre appeared in front of them. He appeared to be fine.

Cinest was, however, enraged, captured and humiliated, he reached into his component pouch. 

Sister Missran spoke boldly, “Hold, Cinest the Wyre, we bargained with this dragon for your release, he honored the bargain, we should as well.”

Cinest looked at the monk and at the dragon, and he withdrew his hand from his component case.

He turned to the dragon and spoke in a voice dripping with hate.

“Leave from here, when I return to the city our bargain is over, and I will immediately send out a hunting party to find you and bring me your hide. I will wear your skin on my back dragon, run now and you may just live a few more days.”

The dragon hissed and spit a sizzling ball, then began to move down into the river, where it floated away with the stream of the water.

Tor Lun stood up and gingerly walked towards the monks.

Cinest turned to the monks as well.

“I owe you three my life, all of you hold hands and Naranjir, grab my hand please.”

Naranjir did as instructed, and Cinest the Wyre spoke the words of a teleportation spell, all four of them were instantly transported back to Cinest’s chambers in the warlock’s tower of House Tairn. 

From there Cinest summoned servants who escorted the monk’s back to their monastery. He swore them to secrecy about the entire event, except of course to the Maharaja, who was told all.

******************************************************************

About a week later Naranjir was at his devotions when a letter and a small package arrived for him at the Orange Blossom Monastery.

He went to his chambers and opened the letter, it was from Cinest the Wyre.

“Brother Naranjir,

Though my faithful servant Tor Lun was involved, and your superior, Sister Missran, you wore my prison on your breast and risked death to keep me from harm. Enclosed is a token of my appreciation for your efforts. Say the words “Arany oroszlánok” and they will animate and serve you loyally. Say the words again and they will transform back. Note that they increase in size when animated.

With eternal gratitude,

Cinest the Wyre, Warlock of House Tairn"

Naranjir unwrapped two statues, identical lions, gold in color and lustrous to the touch, and laughed.

Somewhere in the marsh, Gruentharn the Sly hid in the reeds while a ward hunt party passed by. He was beaten, bloody and hurt, but he had survived, and he would well remember the two monks and the giant whom had earned his hatred, along with Cinest the Wyre…