Wilderness Crawl (Solo)
Mapping the North, Foray 5 - by Lommond Hiding from the wyvern over the past two days is taking its toll. It feels wrong to go to the jakes in the old church that has been our sanctuary from the beast. I thought the wyvern would have lost interest in us by now but, just as we think it might have flown off, it returns. Any attempts to sleep were disrupted by its terrible roar. A roar that trails off into a high-pitched screech.
Early one morning, we heard the howls of wolves in the distance but they had the sense to move on. The terror persisted day and night with irregular reprieves until last night.
During one of the wyvern's frequent runs at the church, Skullcrusher, who was on watch, spotted a couple of figures descend out of the night sky, silhouetted against the moon. Their bodies were like that of a lion but they had the wings and heads of eagles. Skullcrusher alerted us that we should be ready to move at a moment's notice. I couldn't resist and, as Spearchucker prepared the mule, Brother Klang and I ascended the stairs to get a look.
Just as we peeked out the window we saw the first aerial collision. Both of the lion creatures struck the wyvern almost at the same moment, raking it with their claws. One of them focused on the leathery wings of the wyvern. So effective was their first assault that all the wyvern could do was screech in pain as its wing was so bloodied and torn that it had to land. It set down right in front of the main church doors. A second diving strike from the lions was met with a vicious lash of the wyvern's tail, which caught one of them, forcing a screech from it's beak. But both of the lions continued to rake at the wyvern. It was like eagles on a pigeon.
It wasn't long before they were feasting on the wyvern's carcass. We waited silently, cautiously peeking periodically to see if they had flown off. After about 40 minutes they had their fill and set off in the direction from whence they had come.
We were still in shock after days of terror. We waited to see if the flying lions would return. During that time, we discussed whether we should leave or investigate the cemetery where the wyvern was roosting. Based on the treasure that was spread about in sacks and amongst the kobolds, we knew there must be a hoard nearby and the wyvern's nest was the most likely place. We had thousands of silver and electrum already weighted out on the mule. But dwarven blood runs thick with ambition.
Our first furtive steps out of the church had us creeping past the corpse of the dragon-kin. We walked to the cemetery, our way lit by the near full moon and a couple of rushlights. We feared that the flying creatures might see our rushlights so we kept them shrouded from above by our cloaks. I asked Brother Klang about the lion creatures, and, even though he knew the difference between a wyvern and a dragon, he couldn't be sure but guessed that the creatures were griffons.
We went directly to the spot where we first saw the wyvern, stepping over tombstones and trees, either fallen due to the weight of time or due to the rampaging wyvern. Sure enough, a half sunken tomb, with a tree fallen across it, served as a nest or roost for the wyvern. In the moonlight... gold. More gold than silver, more gold than electrum. I quickly returned to the church and dumped the gear the mule was carrying onto the floor then brought the mule to the cemetery with sacks and pouches. As quickly as we could, we filled our sacks, backpacks, pouches and the saddle bags and, in the process, uncovered an axe and sword whose blades were untouched by knicks or pits of rust. The blades were magnificent. Brother Klang found a leather case that contained a scroll wrapped around a wand. Klang was keenly interested in these things and pocketed them right away. "Wyverns have a nose not just for shiny baubles, but for magic as well. I'm sure these blades and the wand have some dweomer upon them. Take care with them until we know the nature of the magic. All that glitters is not gold, and some magic is cursed." We returned to the church with our haul.
We decided to leave Hillock's gear and all of the remaining gold, silver and electrum in our cache at the mill where we first entered. This enterprise took all night. Fortunately we had Spearchucker's pick axe which Skullcrusher made good time with covering the cache. Meanwhile, we decided that, when dawn was upon us, we would bury Hillock in the cemetery.
We got an early start. Brother Klang presided over Hillock's burial, which we conducted far from the wyvern's nest. As Klang finished his sermon, he placed Hillock's symbol of Moradin on the stones covering the grave. No wolves will unearth our fallen companion.
Though we were heavily laden, we made haste; eager to put distance between us and the wyvern's corpse, which, by now, must be attracting wolves and other carrion beasts. Perhaps, even the flying lions would return to feast.
Our return to Middlestep was late in the evening and few paid us any heed. After we settled our shares, we met in the tavern tent and drank a somber toast to Hillock, and then another toast, led by Brother Klang, to Moradin for his good graces. And then yet another toast, this one a little quieter. A toast to our new found wealth, our cache and future explorations.
The next morning, we shared the passing of Hillock with the community and had a service, once again led by Brother Klang. Following the ceremony we made a point of telling everyone within earshot about haunted forests to the North, crawling with packs of ratmen, wolves, kobolds and giant toads; the skies filled with wyverns and flying lions. Venturing there was far too dangerous and certainly not worth the risk.
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