These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
A warm, soothing feeling flows through my muscles. My breathing is more relaxed, my strength restored.
Randle is looking over me, helping me to my feet. I offer him a nod of thanks as I pick up my weapons. The living room is a full pitched battle. Henry and Lithia do what they can to defend the priest from two of the Bringers of Woe. Balasar stands back to back with Amon being assaulted by the remaining three.
It is painfully obvious we are friends divided in this fight. The wedge of Prince Frost’s mistakes have driven deep within our trust. There is no communication, no teamwork being displayed.
Breaking away from Randle’s healing touch, I leap up to aid Henry who is completely on the defensive. The priest is right beside me, flail swinging out wide to turn the tide of battle. But these warriors prove to be quite skilled, hitting us with well timed attacks.
Heat builds up behind us as Lithia chants the arcane words to a spell. Another small pea of fire arcs over our fight to land in front of the stairs. The explosion of fire shakes the home as the walls are engulfed in flames.
Smokes begins to fill the room.
The Bringers of Woe tumble toward us, just the opening we needed. I tell everyone to attack the burnt warrior from the mage’s fireball upstairs. Despite his skill four attacks prove too much for him. He sidesteps Henry’s greataxe only to catch Novak’s shortsword in the ribs as I puncture his stomach with my dagger. Before he can step back a flail caves his head in.
The explosion had the opposite affect on the other fight. Amon keeps his shield close, his shoulder bleeding from the slash of a longsword. Blows are traded between Balasar and both a greatsword and spear. The dragonborn’s heritage serving its purpose against the damage.
But it is not enough.
I feint an attack, causing the already defensive Bringer to deflect with his own spear so I can flank the prince’s opponent. But the skills prove to be greater as he quickly kicks Amon’s leg, causing it to buckle so he can parry my attacks with his longsword.
The warriors mistake was taking his eyes off of Prince Frost.
My brother bashes him forward with his shield as I launch myself at the Bringer with a headbutt. From behind, Amon drives his sword though his spine as a jab my dagger under the chin.
Our foe’s eyes flutter as he collapses to the floor.
Seeing that the others are getting the best of their opponents, the prince squares up with Balasar. I move to flank the two Bringers, using the flaming stairs to help trap them in the corner. Accepting our challenge they leap at us.
The one with the spear jump kicks Amon, expecting him to block with his shield. As the prince does the Bringer pushes off, stabbing out with his weapon and piercing the armor of Balasar. The copperborn excepts the attack, pulling the spear through him deeper to bring the warrior in close only to send him flying into the fiery wall with the flat of his massive blade.
With a growl of defiance he snaps the spear in two, leaving the rest in his side.
The other Bringer swings his greatsword out wide, pushing myself back and Amon even further out to create room for his weapon. Before he can bring the blade back around I get within its reach, stabbing out with Novak’s shortsword. The warrior deflects my arm up with his elbow as I was hoping for as I follow through, sticking my dagger into his ribcage. Before he can mount any defense from the wound Amon blasts the Bringer with cold shards of ice.
A hoot from Henry cues us that their Bringer has fallen. You can tell it in the eyes of the remaining two. Both look to each other and nod in some silent agreement.
The greatsword sweeps forward, not only to drive us backwards but so the unarmed Bringer can come in under it to attack. A shoulder block connects with Amon’s shield to send him stumbling, followed with a spin kick to my jaw. With the speed of a great hunting cat he races across the room, leaping over my friends and busting through the window.
With the distraction the remaining one charges Balasar, locking blades in a test of strength. Realizing the paladin is easily the stronger of the two he waits until the copperborn leans forward with all his might. At the moment he sidesteps, dropping his blade and diving through the nearby window as well.
As we leave the house continues to burns, surely to draw attention of Brask or some other evil invading Icewall. At least tonight we can rest knowing we have defeated one of those evils.
But I have no doubts the Bringers of Woe will cross our paths again one day.