The following night our heroes slept heavily. The day had brought them the first taste of real battle as they had fought and killed the ambushing goblins and tested each other in The Battle Maze. In spite of the near endless training sessions by Maralictor Ricfred Grimacar, this day had been the most eventful for our heroes in months.
Justice however knows not of rest or exhaustion so even before the sun had risen the following day, the party was summoned to the champers of Paravicor Emanror Pinard, the Grand Magus of Citadel Dinyar. He told the company of the region Isger, and how the goblins had roamed the plains of the region and spread their terror during the years of the Goblinblood Wars. This however was all in the past. Lately the Paravicor had heard disturbing news regarding one of the region’s more southern villages. Rumors told of the dead awakening from their graves in the area surrounding the city of Gillamoor in as defiance to the order of the world. Paravicor Emanror Pinard wanted the company to investigate these rumors.
Before the party was dismissed and send upon their first real mission, he turned their attention to the grand iron bell rising in its tower in the courtyard. If the bell sang, its voice would resonate in the Aspodell Mountains and its call of summons would call every member of the order in the region of Isger to the defense of Citadel Dinyar.
As the party prepared for another descend from the citadel and into the lowlands they decided, that the rumors of undead called for a little extra gear. They found a store in the courtyard selling healing wands and other trinkets of magic. To the group’s dismay, the price of such trinkets was a bit out of their reach. The price of justice is not cheap it seemed. All of a sudden, Draxkarn Brizag’Dekhel presented a 1,000 gold pieces from various hidden pocket in his leather garments. How the rogue was even able to walk around with such a heavy load, the others did not know. They knew better than to ask a rogue how he procures his gold, and swiftly bought a healing wand and went out of the citadel gates towards new adventure.
The party traveled through the woods on their way south, following a animal trail. Without warning four goblins and one of their rapid infested dogs were upon the party. The cowards had been laying in ambush. One of the goblins, a goblin shaman, used his primitive magic, to put the dwarf into sleep. In spite of the downed party member, the remaining two made short work of the goblins. Draxkarn used his stealth and swift rapier to inflict precise strikes while the proud Cleric swung his long sword with righteous fury. As the last goblin fell to the ground, Tobol regained his consciousness. Waking up and swinging his axe in wild flurrys through the air, as if though the goblins were still surrounding him.
As night fell upon the forrest the party decided to make camp for the night. A tent was risen a short distance from the animal trail and Draxkarn took the first watch of the night. As the half-elf watched over the camp, the silence of the night only disturbed by the snores of the dwarf, a rustle in the leaves caught the attention of Draxkarn. Through the trees limped the corpse of a goblin. As the half-elf stood nailed to the ground, baffled by the sight of the undead abomination, the undead charged him. Still over confident by his succes in the earlier skirmish of the day, Draxkarn thought his enemy so slow and clumsy, that there would be no need to awaken his friends in the tent. This danger he could handle him self. After a few futile strikes the undead’s chest, and after receiving several slams and bites from the abomination, Draxkarn realised, that this battle would be over soon, with him laying on the forrest floor, if he didn’t reach out to his companions for help. As his friends stormed out of the tent, weapons in hand and as naked as the day that Iomadea had created them, Draxkarn received a near fatal blow to the head, that rendered him unconscious. The zombie fought fiercely, and as all hope seamed lost, the noble dwarf Tobol Badut swung his mighty axe and slayed the vile being, thus claiming his first kill as a member of the Hellknight order. A tale that no doubt would be told in many a tavern in the future. The healing wand proved to be a good investment, as both the human and the half-elf had been near death.
On the next day the party continued southward. They reached a cavern where the entrance was blocked by a wide board and a thick trunk. Beside the blockaded entrance to the cavern, a skeleton clad in robes lay stretched out on the ground. On the board the party found a magical seal placed as a warning to by-passers, so that they entrance would remain shut. The heroes however, were always looking for adventure, and surely what waited inside this cavern couldn’t match what they had already faced. They were the dealers of justice and preservers of order, and they would fear no enemy. The cavern was prison to a goblin zombie and a goblin skeleton. They were dealt with swiftly, as the time in imprissonment had deteriorated the corpses, and with a single hit to either, their bodies crumpled into dust.
Inside the party only found dead bodies. These were truly dead and the cavern must have served as a larder for the undead creatures.
Their spirits lifted by yet another challenge conquered, the party continued their journey south. The rumour of the undead threat now truly confirmed. They encountered a patrol of knights of the empire. They warned the adventures, that the region in the south had been contaminated and thus put into quarantine. Any one who traveled into the region would not be allowed to leave again, in an effort to zeal in what ever magic or sickness which plagued the region.
The party decided to venture north west, following the edge of the forrest, and then cut in east back to the citadel. They have learned about the truth of the rumour of the undead plague, and needed to report back to the order.
On their journey through the forest they encountered a lonely goblin, its leg trapped in a spring trap. Before they half-elf and the human had a chance to get any useful information from the poor and wounded goblin, the dwarf too forth his axe and presented it to the forehead of the creature, killing it instantly. It almost seamed as if the dwarf tried to make up for his lack of killing blows by stealing one where ever he could.
As the dwarf boasted of yet another heroic victory, the party went onwards. Soon they came upon the village of Haulst. A mere speck on the map, this town was little more than a rest-house for weary travellers like those of our heroes surrounded by a few homes, a smithy and a local farm. The inn in which they sought to rest for the night was called Hadrian’s Hallow, likely named after some legendary hero of old. It was quaint but comfortable. The food was hot, the ale cold and the bartender, a big man by the name of Huurigar, was quite friendly. The party spent the night relaxing after a couple of days filled with more adventure than a simple farmer would see in a life time. Draxkarn, to the surprise of the other members of the party, seamed a fantastic storyteller and performer. As though Iomadea had decided to gift him with a talent for entertainment he told the tales of their travels so far to every customer in the tavern and they all listened closely.