Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

The ridge overlooked a steep and secluded cove. From its peak, an observer could keep watch over anything from the headlands on either side to the thin strip of Hollow Sea that was visible between them.

Currently that meant a sloop could be seen in the pre-dawn light, leaning on its side at the water's edge as its crew set about careening it.

The process was as simple as it was time-consuming. The ship would be beached in shallow water at high tide, so that when the waters dropped, the hull could be accessed and cleaned of the barnacles, seaweed, and other marine life that slowed the ship down. Then, once the cleaning was done, the next high tide would provide an opportunity to return to sea.

The cove was ideal for the Dread Otter to have its hull cleaned, and its crew was being observed from the top of that ridge.

Darius, Lars, and Poi - the curly-haired brunette who had arrived at Hopetoun's gate the previous trial - had cleared away some of the snow and were crouching down atop the ridge, from where they were watching the activities below.

"They were careening the other side of the hull when I found them," Lars whispered.

Darius nodded. Careening took time. If they finished cleaning one side in time for the Hugh tide, they could reflect the ship and turn it around. But if they missed that deadline, it would add several breaks of waiting for another high tide. That was why, he guessed, the pirates were working so early in the morning.

"It's Zi'da," Darius noted. "The temperatures at sea are cold, and there are fewer ships to harass. If they think nobody knows they're here, they'll be happy to take their time to rest before the next high tide."

Behind them, four others stoodFive flavour NPCs as a renown reward - check Darius' CS.. Each one wore muted colours that would blend in to the dark shape of a coastal cliff, with cowls that hid much of their faces. They each bore a sheathed falchion at their hip and a held a longbow, the latter of which they were busily stringing as the others observed the cove below.

"I count eight crew," Darius whispered, "but there may be more that we can't see."

Then he turned to Poi.

"Are they within range of your bows?" he asked.

"They are," the archer confirmed, "but anyone we don't hit with the first volley will scatter."

"Aye," Darius agreed. "It would be better that we ambush them from a shorter distance. We need to come down from this ridge anyway, because once the sun rises, they'll be able to see us on the horizon."

The settlement leader paused to make sure Lars and Poi understood.

"But we can use the sun to our advantage," he continued. "With the sun at our backs, we can limit their visibility. If they get close, I can provide some melee support."

Darius tapped the hilt of his longsword as he said that, but - while he could hold his own against an average swordfighter - it was actually Ledas who he had in mind. The ice tiger was out of sight at that time, but Hopetoun's leader was prepared to bring him into the fight if he was needed.

"Lars, can you find a way for us to get down unseen?" he asked the wilderness man. "Once the fighting starts, retreat to the ridge. If anything happens to me, you'll need to carry the news back to Hopetoun."

Darius' heart was thumping. Had he not known better, he would have sworn that everyone else could have heard it, for it was pulsating in his ears. The only other sound he heard was the familiar purring of Ledas. The ice tiger, still unseen, would loyally serve as the baron's protector, should the need arise.

Their approach had been slow and careful; their concealment aided by the looming shadow of the cliff and the lapping of the incoming waves.

The pirates' could be heard, now, as they yelled to one another. The sea breeze carried their voices onto the rocks, but their words were indistinct. It was clear, however, that they were too focused on their hard labour to realise that they weren't alone.

Darius was crouched, partway down the cliff, having navigated a narrow pathway behind Lars, with each archer finding a suitable vantage point along the way. Poi was close to him, waiting for his signal, while each of the other four archers in turn were waiting for hers. Lars stood further back up the path, ready to observe the skirmish from the ridgeline as Darius had requested.

Behind them, the sky began to wake up. Above the ridge, a slither of bright orange light began to creep further, its reflection drifting down onto the Hollow Sea. Darius held his breath as the glow slowly approached the island. His hearth thumped louder. Ledas' purring faded away and was replaced by a quiet, steady growl. The sussurrating breeze picked up, which made the pirates' voices seem louder and closer.

The golden light crept towards the ship, and Darius slowly raised his hand. In response, Poi slowly pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, and the other archers followed her lead.

Then, as the sun began to reveal itself over the ridge, and its light shone directly onto the pirates, Darius knew the time had come.
With the light at their backs, it would be harder for their prey to identify them. Darius dropped his hand, and Poi drew her bow and stood. As she did, she placed her foot on an exposed stick and it snapped in half with a crack.

Darius' felt a wave of panic run through him as he watched the nearest two pirates turn to face the noise, their arms lifting to shield their eyes from the rising sun.

"'Ere, wot's that?" called out one. "Who goes there?"

Other pirates turned to see what their fellow crewman was talking about, and in that moment, Darius felt his hand tightly grip the hilt of his longsword. Poi and the other archers reacted quickly by loosing their arrows.

And then all hell broke loose.

The pirate who called out was the first to die.

The plan had originally been for each archer to target a different pirate. That meant they could fell five enemies in a single volley, which might be enough to convince the others to surrender.

But the alarm had been sounded by Poi breaking the stick, and the archers had attacked trills before the archers were ready.

Perhaps in a bid to stop the speaking pirate from giving them away, one of the archers switched targets, and that raider collected a pair of arrows. One hit him in the chest, and another buried itself into his abdomen, and he collapsed silently onto the wet sand. A third arrow hit another pirate in the head, killing him instantly. Another arrow hit yet a third pirate in the thigh, who cried out in pain and fell into the shallows, where he began to writhe about. The fifth arrow fell harmlessly into the water.

As Lars retreated to the ridgeline, he pirates erupted into confused yelling. They began to take cover as best they could, but there was nowhere to hide. The steep cliff gave the archers a vantage point over the whole beach, but the moving targets were more difficult to hit.

Darius held his breath as the archers drew another set of arrows and loosed, and a third pirate was felled. The bearded blond was trying to keep track of the situation as it unfolded. He counted four pirates scrambling across the sand, along with the three who were either wounded or killed.

"Why aren't they firing back?" he muttered under his breath in audible confusion.

During their previous encounter, the pirates had wasted no time in firing arrows of their own, and the lack of such a reaction was not what he had expected.

"They didn't have time to string their bows," Poi responded between arrows. "We caught them off guard."

So dire was the pirates' situation that had they then offered their surrender, Darius would have been only too happy to accept. They were surrounded and unable to attack from range. Hopetoun's leader would have preferred to capture them and let a Scalvorian judge decide what should be done with them.

But the raiders clearly didn't see it the same way, because once they realised that hiding was not going to work, they decided to go on the offensive. The remaining four pirates drew their swords and began to charge their way up the steep slope towards one of the other archers, who Darius recognised as the stoic redheaded man who had accompanied him the previous trial.

Darius drew his blade as the arrows flew. The two pirates at the front were easy pickings, collecting a pair of arrows each. They fell against the cliff, their bodies slowly sliding down with the scree.

But the other two got further, advancing close enough to the archer that the man dropped his bow and drew his falchion.
The clanging of steel echoed against the cliff face as the trio fought. The only sound that seemed to interrupt it was the groaning of pain from the pirate with an arrow in his thigh.

Darius rushed along the narrow path, trying to maintain his footing to lend the archer some aid. He knew that by doing so, he was preventing the rest of the archers from attacking, but he feared that the man would soon be overpowered. He heard footprints behind him, and assumed Poi was also about to join the melee.

The redheaded archer held the two pirates at bay for a while, using both his falchion and his buckler to block incoming sword strikes and to make thrusting attacks of his own. But he couldn't hold them off forever, and just as he stabbed one of the pirates, the other struck him on his exposed side, and both wounded men collapsed.

Darius continued his approach, the combination of the weight of his longsword and the uneven path making it difficult for his feet to find purchase. He stumbled just as the last pirate turned to face him, and a sudden panic ran through him. His faltering steps threatened to throw him off balance, and - at the very least - put him at a severe disadvantage as the pirate prepared to meet his advance.

But the footsteps behind him became heavier; faster; louder.

And then he heard a deafening roar.

Darius instinctively dropped to one knee and Ledas leapt over him, teeth bared, causing the pirate to hesitate in fear at the sight. Ledas' outstretched front paw connected with the man's head, each sharp claw drawing a gash of crimson across the side of his prey's face. The pirate screamed and dropped to his knees, his weapon hitting the ground as his hands clutched at his face. Ledas stood over him, but it was clear the pirate was not going to offer any more resistance.

In barely a pair of bits, the fight was over. As the sun revealed more of its light, the victors could get a better view of the scene: half a dozen dead pirates and a slain archer; two more pirates were wounded; and the Dread Otter had been captured.

Darius was not a medic, but he hoped the two wounded pirates might survive, so that they could face justice from the courts on the main island. But he was a Scalvorian, and that meant he would ensure that the death ritual would be carried out for the deceased, regardless of which side they had fought on.