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FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

A shadow passed overhead raising a few gazes. Iliskra came hurtling down from the rooftop behind the half-orc and his goons, her mace raised overhead. With a hard downward cleave she slammed her weapon into the head of the man to the furthest right with an audible clang that knocked his helmet from his head and sent him toppling to the ground. There were gasps of shock, Iliskra ignoring them and raising her mace overhead a second time and bringing it down with both hands - cracking open the fallen humans’ skull, hot blood spattering across her face.

“Ha!” Ibdur shouted loudly, eyes and nostrils flaring violently as he bared his axes and rushed forward. “The orc is mine!”

Iliskra was suddenly struck in the side of the face, her vision blurring as her whole head erupted with pain. The half-elf landed hard on her right side a few feet away from the man she had just killed. She had been too slow to move out of reach and one of the remaining two thugs had slammed his shield into her, stunning her slightly. Iliskra turned over on her back to see the man approach her drawing his sword, she rolled backward and up into an unsteady stance - avoiding a downward swing in the process. Only to realize she had come up with her back in a corner.

“Leon!” Iliskra blurted out, taking a defensive stance. The other thug, sword drawn, focused on Leon while the half-orc - now free from the Maskaran’s spell - turned to defense as Ibdur came at his larger opponent in a whirlwind of steel and savage yells.

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FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“You stay back.” Spat the woman, holding her stance and keeping her weapon at the ready. Even with the hood she wore concealing part of her face the woman was obviously quite young, given by the sound of her voice particularly.

“Calm yourself, girl,” Ibdur grumbled, “we did not follow you down this alley just to kill you two.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the woman retorted forcefully, “you follow us here, start raining questions upon me - a complete stranger - and insinuate in the same breaths you can help… him. You are either fools or this is a ruse, an illusion.”

“Leon-er… Leo…” Ibdur hastily corrected himself, “we are wasting time here. All I see is two common hooligans that were on the bad side of a deal. A purse cutting gone wrong or a gang fight I would wager.”

“‘Common hooligans’,” the woman repeated with an indignant mocking tone, “the gal, I say!”

“Elthel…” came a weak groan.

The hooded woman looked down at the wounded half-elf, his pale, dainty face twisted into an expression of equal pain and weariness.

“If… they can help…” the half-elf strained, “we… I… am in no place to turn them away.”

“But… we don’t even know who they are! What about all your words and ways of caution? They could be with Gunalar!” Lethal replied.

“If they are… perhaps they will make it quick for me…” the half-elf forced a pained grin, “but… I do not… think they are that half-orc’s thugs. They do not… look to be. And… at this point… I have not the privilege… of caution.”

Elthel turned back to face Leon, eyes narrowing beneath her hood. Her lips parted as she was about to speak when a deep voice boomed out from behind Leon and Ibdur, “Did I hear ‘mine name?!” A short chorus of harsh laughter followed in tow. Ibdur’s axes came free from his belt as the dwarf sharply whirled around to face the newest arrivals in the alley. Lumbering around the corner came a towering, ugly, swarthy-skinned half-orc with thinning hair and a scruffy, greasy black beard. The half-orc was adorned in a rickety set of chainmail with a scarred breastplate that barely fit over his wide midsection, over his right shoulder he carried a large, gleaming war hammer. His beady black eyes were pressed into a scowl and his wide mouth was spread in a vindictive grin that revealed two yellowed tusks jutting up from his jaw. At his back were three human men baring shortswords and round shields, their only protection cheap iron helmets and breastplates like their apparent leader wore.

“So… Gunalar…” the half-elf forced himself up into a sitting position, arms quivering at his sides, “you… found me. Very clever… for an orc.”

“Ha!” snorted the brute, “I needed only follow the fresh trail of blood, frail half-elf. Even a touched bloodhound could have found you in this hole you backed yourself into.”

“Or even… a poorly bred orc-blood.” came the weak but sneering reply.

“We will see who laughs when I kill you and your little friends here and carry your head to Shagarm, thief.”

“So… you’ve sold yourself out too…”

“Not sold out. Made a smart move.”

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

“Look there!” Ibdur barked suddenly causing Iliskra to flinch. The half-elf looked to the dwarf and then turned her eyes to the direction that he was pointing - that being to the northwest just down the street to their left. It took less than three breaths for Iliskra to see just what the Tempuran had spotted.

Well now, Iliskra thought, … speak of a devil…

Two hooded figures were hurriedly walking along the broken sidewalk along the main road, one notably taller than the other. Though at a closer glance it was quite clear that “walking” was not exact. The taller figure was in fact hunched over and visibly limping while the shorter figure had an arm around them and was very obviously supporting their labored stumbles. Iliskra - even over the dreadful cacophony of the city - could hear mumbling between the pair as they came to an alleyway entrance and turned slowly, casting worried glances behind them.

“I wonder who those two are…” Ibdur voiced, looking between Leon and Iliskra.

“They could be Talons. They could be common hoodlums. They could be a pair of witches.” Iliskra mused, “There is really only one way to find out…”

“We follow them then?” Ibdur asked, looking directly at Leon.

The shadowy duo turned down the alley which seemed to lead into a back-way area amid a jumble of rickety houses. The three companions needed to move now before whoever those two were disappeared down some rathole, a sewer entrance or a hollowed out cellar. Assuming of course they were worth following. Iliskra looked at Leon with an expression of “What do you think?”

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

The journey to Scardale Town was short, the human, half-elf, and dwarf walking for just shy of an hour and a half before reaching the outskirts of the capital. The snow on the ground was thinner and slippery much to the disdain of Ibdur who more than once had to catch himself from falling. Iliskra found herself in awe as the sea came into view in the near distance, glimmering in the high afternoon sun.

“It is beautiful…” Iliskra remarked with a raised pointer finger aimed at the distance, Leon and the dwarf having no comment which prompted Iliskra to embrace the silence again.

The capital cities’ towering stone walls were also in sight; scarred with deep cracks, scorch marks, and crumbled towers that looked like broken off teeth in an old misers’ mouth. Iliskra could hear the sounds of the city that drifted on the wind. Not the sound of idle prattle of sprawling masses, merchants hawking their wares on every street, and weary guards bellowing out. Rather it was the sound of blades striking, screams of pain and battle cries, and shouts of fear and commanding alike. Truly unlike anything Iliskra had heard coming from over a cities’ walls.

A sundered city indeed. Iliskra thought as she and her two companions neared the capital.

---

“So this is the great Scardale Town…” Ibdur mused cynically as he took in the sight of the ravaged capital. Uninterested in dealing with any guards or patrols Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur had avoided the south road into the city and just passed through a gaping hole in the southern wall - on their way stepping over the putrid and fly-covered remains of what must have been three dozen men and women in a vile, sickening scene. Iliskra had wondered aloud who they were, Ibdur noting the lack of uniform among the dead who all looked to be fighters. There were no discarded banners or emblems in the blooded dirt and the fallen were equipped with everything from cheap hide cuirasses to full suits of steel plate. Most of their weapons were either broken or missing meaning that the scene had already been looted.

“Tis likely that they were rival gangs or mercenaries on opposite sides of a conflict.” Ibdur stated.

The corpses were still relatively fresh meaning that whatever had happened along the collapsed wall was recent which inspired the three to move along inside the city. That and the horrid odor of death that rose up from the site of battle. Within the confines of the city things were no more appealing to the eye. Sizable blood marks, ash piles, collapsed structures, and even long decayed bodies littered the wide streets and alleyways. Houses were in a mixture of states - some were all boarded up save for perhaps a single door or window, others dilapidated and falling in, and some were naught but burned out husks with all that remained being blackened posts and hunks of cracked wall.

“This place is… disastrous…” Iliskra said, the concern and disbelief creeping up in her voice.

“I have seen far worse,” Ibdur crossed his arms, “this city has fallen. I dare not even call it a city anymore… but a rats’ nest. Pray tell there are those here who can match my axes in battle. Tempus surely sent me here for a reason.”

Iliskra gave the street on which the three stood a hard looking over. Most of the nearby houses were destroyed, the alleyways blocked by rubble. There was no sign of life on this street, save for a pack of rats that came scurrying by along the chipped cobblestones and vultures that circled above. Iliskra curled her lip and looked at Leon, “According to Breck this is the thieves’ guild territory. Where would you say we should start in this hellshole?”

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the alphabet game. lol

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