The passing of Donatello Mizrahno

[Admin]

The trees separate for a hundred yards or so on both sides of the trail before opening into this field, a meadow if you will. At first glance you think it might be the grove or a copse of trees in the shape of a circle. A druids circle or some other forest dwelling folk, a spirit or such yet no sign of small spirits seem to show themselves as you first look ahead and then eventually move forward. Wary or not, its obvious that something has disturbed the smooth sea of grass that covered this area.

The sounds of battle are no where to be heard. The deep rich sound of steel, striking steel, a hammer deflected off a shield or the sickening sounds of bones being broken. Hundreds of arrows have missed their marks yet dozens more striking true as no amount could have been launched without some hitting something. Several large swaths of arrows embedded in the ground indicate at least three to six columns of archers as they fell in the shape of squares, and rectangular patterns. Many are in the trees to the south, suggesting that a large group ambushed those who sought to camp here and were making their way.

Perhaps not a tracking of prey over time but more of a dogged pursuit. Blood trails continue on over the next several hundred yards and a break to one of the trails that lead here. A huge indentation, deep into the wood, shows a pulverized piece of flesh, some of it still sickeningly, stuck. A decapitated goblin body with a bow, splintering into nothing, the string the only indication of the type of weapon that it once was before. Now, the signs of battle are broken goblin bodies, the splintered weapons they carried, crude and in poor repair but effective as they still have fresh stains.

A dozen now at least of these goblins are here and it makes you recall how although common and thought of as weak, unorganized thieves by many of the goodly races, their numbers have always been their strength and in this instance, it may have proved too great for those whom the goblins sought. The trail bends and twists further into the forest making following it harder and easier since the bodies, bent and twisted, some cloven in two but now many looking crushed are becoming less and less now, now shows drag marks, deeply but unevenly furrowed into the pathway. Upon closer inspection it seems as one of their enemies was injured and tried to keep moving and fighting. After almost a quarter mile, seeing that the blood is mostly dried, the goblins seem, No! They have lost as four of the creatures, a shaman of sorts and three others lie strewn about. Each ones skull has been crushed beyond recognition, the limbs as well. The shaman looks the worse, his pelt the only sign of his station, was struck many more times than the others. Another large field ahead where a slight blood trail leads do you see what caused their fate.

A single dwarf, his back to you, covered in blood, some dried, some fresh, bits of flesh and bone, leans over two mounds of dirt near a large tree and boulder. No sound comes from his general direction and he does not seem to be moving. A large sword, blood crusted, easily two handed and looking absolutely massive next to the dwarf, leans against the tree. Two large axes, one with a well made shield hanging from it, the other, by itself, serve as grave markers. Their intricacy, even from this distance shows the quality of their make.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning, strikes very near to the tree, making it glow impossibly bright, the thunderclap deafening to behold and making your hairs stand on end as the air all around you becomes ionized. As the light subsides, you see another armored figure, standing very close to the tree, their hair flowing lightly behind them. Donning chainmail, a shield strapped to their back and the unmistakable image of a hand throwing a lightning bolt. The figure in question indeed seems to be doing just that with her left hand except it has a truly radiant quality to it that soothes and comforts.

"Shiuske...Saito...Maru...Joff..." the voice whispers.

Smoke pours forth from under Shiuske's clothes, then a brilliant flash of that same radiant light. The finger, last remnant of Donatello Mizrahno, cleric of Hironeous, destroyer of owl bears, sixth sister to the order of Hironeous, bane of the undead, keeper of secrets, warrior of the people, faithful to the last, falls to the ground and glows slightly. In an instant it falls first to pieces, then actually crumbles and scatters, swirling around in all directions then towards the unmistakable figure before you moving straight through its being then upward. Miz' visage appears before you, a clear smile on her face, looks to the dwarf, gesturing, gently but directly before ascending into the sky into an incandescent beam of light.

"Some time passes..." a raspy voice says.

"Some pass with it." The voice continues, clearing it's throat and getting deeper.

"If yer looking to rob the graves o' the goblins, backbreaker still has some more pounding to do." the voice continues as the dwarven figure raises a huge maul of dwarven design. If the sword looks big, the maul looks bigger.

"If ye be thinkin of robbing a dwarf and his fallen kin," he rises quickly turning to stand in front of the two grave markers, "Then ye best be ready to best what stands a'fore ya!"

"Baern Bain Gondram has many foes to bury before he avenges me friend Daria! So come on ye and let's start a dance ye mongrels!" He shouts at the top of his lungs...before collapsing on top of the great hammer.

Lying still and unmoving in a heap on the ground, he still grips the maul.

A simple pack, with many used up bandages, splints and medicines as wells as basic supplies, all useless save for a silver scroll tube and a small vial that looks to be a potion of healing or mead, tough to tell since it belongs to a dwarf. His coal black hair dissheveled and dirty, its braid having come undone.

You've just met the "Stonebreaker" as the scroll case has written on its side...

[varisik]

Muddy earth, stained red with black and red blood, covers the grass that once stood here. A single book, and parchment lie nearby but what catches your eye is the hand that once grasped that book. Not noteworthy or memorable in all your meetings, the ring that is on the hand, is unmistakably the same that Daria wore when you first met her. A small emblem of Hironeous is on its side, like that Donatella wore on all her gear and now, it is lying in the muck, next to a dwarf who swore to avenge her. The scroll case is also similar to one that was presented to you some time ago when you met a strange half elven woman named Miz.

Despite lying and unmoving on the ground, the dwarf made sure that all his foes were annihilated before he buried his kin. Safe is the word to be used here and may even give you time to find some answers, like what happened to Daria and why her hand is less than ten feet away from you. It's clear that the dwarf is on the side of good but seeing all before you, only makes your curiosity grow...