3. Samson Swarthout: Chronicles of a Gentle Giant

Samson Swarthout: Chronicles of a Gentle Giant


  • His head nodding a bit, eyes closing as he stood on the hill, Sam finally drifted into a light sleep as he often did while standing on the hill.

    _He found himself standings on a vast plain of marble, checkered black and white in large squares. Far in the distance, something stood above the plain and Sam slowly walked toward it.

    He saw a vast set of scales, made of steel, large enough to hold a man or other large creature. On the scales, a symbol of a large, unwinking eye etched into it's base.

    A giant white tiger approached, roaring a challenge and stepped onto the scales, causing them to pitch downward, the tiger very near the ground. Then he heard another, and a large black panther slid forward, and with blurring speed leaped onto the other end of the scales, causing them to balance, the great white cat suddenly frozen in mid-movment._

    Sam's eyes snapped open, and he searched what he could see quickly of theNars before relaxing into troubled thought.

    In a moment of pondering, he came to one conclusion.

    Something is here…


  • The Hightower boy had been kidnapped! Right out from under Sam’s nose!

    He escorted Durai into the Boarshead to speak with a waitress, and the door closed in his face. In seconds, Sam heard the sizzle and crackle magic being used behind the door. With the regular patronage, the Boarshead could afford thick heavy doors. Doors whose wood was so hard it turned Sam’s blades quite well. Not even Maythor could damage it, so he shouted at Barle to fetch a key.

    Eventually, the waitress came to her senses and opened the door from the inside. Durai was gone, taken.

    Anger did not adequately describe what Sam felt. Rage, perhaps, but it was deep within him, a fire deep within a boiler, contained and building pressure. In times past Sam would have lost all rationality and charged into whatever obstacle lay between him and Durai, but the tempering of Helm’s doctrine over the years allowed him to temper this rage into a driving sense of purpose. If there was a defining trait of Sam, it was tenacity, and this tenacity forced him to rely on Helm for direction, as Sam had no one left to turn to.

    Shalia was on his heels as he raced out the Boarshead, nearly beside herself in angst.

    In the middle of Norwick, life appeared normal, nothing out of place. People moved along the streets casually; there were no turned heads or hushed whispers. Nothing indicated a disturbance, so they circled the inn hoping for a sign. None.

    Grabbing hold of the anger within, Sam used it, like a warrior cutting himself to clear his mind, he used his rage to fuel his focus, to drive it. He knelt down, closed his eyes and… felt. Reaching out with his mind and his soul, his world became black and white. He felt for the shadows. And he found them. Like a swirling fog upon the ground, a grey mist, a trail, led north out of Norwick. Sam could veritably see the passage of evil through the town. Shalia’s panicked words were lost to him in these moments, and when he came back into focus, he sprinted after the trail before realizing that she had indeed been behind him.

    Her eyes were wide, mouth open. Though apparently she had been speaking previously, Sam had obviously ignored her. Uninterested in what she had said, in anything save following the trail, Sam brusquely demanded she keep up. When Sam gave chase, he was not inclined to pause for the weary or inattentive. Her mouth snapped closed and a quick nod was all it took for Sam to slam his shoulder into the Norwick gates, knocking them open as he barreled past. He was dimly aware of Shalia’s pantings behind him, but she admirably did not falter.

    Once in the Nars he paused again on his hill, focusing yet again. From his vantage point, and focusing again on the world of black and white, the plains appeared as a glacier, white and pure. Except for in the distance. Towards Gypsy Pass he could make out a smudge as it faded to white. Whatever took Durai moved fast, and the trail of evil began to grow cold. Sam saw Scutum in the distance and called out to her, but paid no heed if she followed. He was in the hunt.

    Down the hill they raced until they were in the heart of the gypsy camp. Rick met them, and quickly they explained Durai had been taken. He too joined in the search, using his knowledge of the camp to question the Rom.

    Sam however, uncomfortable with the Rom, and knowing his recent failure with Berez’s adopted son, chose to trust in Helm for guidance. He knelt again, clearing his mind and once again his world faded to a simple perspective of good and evil. To him the Romni camp appeared in shades of grey, and nothing could be made out clearly. Scrunching his eyes, furrowing his brow he kept his focus, extending his feelings farther and farther away until the innocence of the forests came into view. Only then could he feel the passage of a taint to the south.

    Just as he rose, a new vigor in his blue eyes, like a hunting dog with prey ahead, Rick shot past him at a run, Shalia and Scutum in tow.

    “This way!” Rick called out. Sam fell into line behind.

    There were spiders. Sam did not remember if they gave him great pause. They were obstacles and dispatched in haste.

    Their pursuit led to a cave, and the party tumbled through. The creatures that lived in the cave were obviously alerted to something and angry with the intruders, though their efforts to drive the rescuers away was paltry. Racing around a corner they found Durai, captive only by a pit from which he could not climb.

    It was a simple matter of using Sam’s rope to pull Durai out, as the others watched Sam’s back. Durai was unharmed and only a little shaken up. He uttered his thanks and moved to Shalia.

    Perhaps Sam might have been hurt, but the naturally curious half-orc was interested in a crate next to the pit. The hells be damned he would know what secrets Shadowstrider kept in it. The chest turned his blade several times, but a blessing proved to be its undoing. Inside was a longsword with the inscription “Cardea.”

    It seemed to Sam that Strider was a smarter criminal than most. He abducted Durai and moved out smartly to accomplish the next phase of his plan. Perhaps to issue demands or prepare for another act of evil. Their retreat from Durai’s prison was uneventful and the posse soon found themselves back in the camp.

    Weary from his roller coaster ride of emotion, Sam slept. Durai and Shalia held each other, while the barbarian chief plucked every source of knowledge he could from the camp members. As Sam slept, the true story of Shadowstrider, Perdix, was told. This and the story of his Cyric brother, Thyrm.

    Durai was resting in the Boarshead, watched by Shalia. Sam took some time to relax, choosing to attend a play in Peltarch. Just after the fat lady sang, a young boy handed Sam a slip of paper.

    I NEED YOU ON YOUR HILL. COME. NOW. There was no signature. Fearing the worst, Sam raced south.

    He arrived breathless. To his intense surprise, Kanen Hightower stood poised, overlooking the plains. Sam raced up to him.

    “Mr. Kanen? Yer alive!?”

    “You have a penchant for stating the obvious don’t you,” Came the dry reply.

    “Whur yuh bin? Alutta folk’s lookin’ fer yuh.” Concerned at the clandestine letter, and Kanen’s choice to reveal himself like this had Sam wary, looking around for intruders.

    Kanen snapped at Sam, telling him he had no time, and demanded to know where something was. Sam scowled at Kanen’s gruff demeanor and questioned him on it. The reply was only that he had been through much and was tired.

    Sam didn’t buy it. No matter the ordeal, even going under the well, Kanen was always considerate and polite. Even on his worst days, Kanen would be silent rather than raise his voice or worse, call someone a name.

    “Tell me where it is, cur!” Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and he examined his friend in detail. Things began to stand out in the moonlight. The sword hilt- it was different. The fastening of the plates was different. Suddenly Sam began to suspect, and he reached out to touch his friend, to see into him for what he really was.

    The first lash of the sword cut Sam’s arm as he reached out for Kanen. Surprised Sam stepped back barely in time to dodge the blade. In shock, Sam back pedaled, but the sword flashed again, and Sam felt its bite time and again. He turned to flee, unwilling to fight Kanen, but was tripped from behind. The perfectly swung blow crashed into Sam’s helm. His consciousness slipped into the night.

    When he awoke, Pete and Zythal were hovering over him, asking him if he was alright. Sam looked around him, the contents of his pack were scattered. His bag of notes was opened, mostly in a clump save for the most recent entries, which were laying separate.

    Certainly Kanen would never call Sam a name, attack him for something, steal out of his pack, or read Sam’s journal without permission. No Paladin would. Sam’s heart sunk as he realized it was not Kanen and wondered where the real Kanen was. Just as the thought entered his mind, in horror, he wondered where the false Kanen could have gone. His thoughts turned to Durai….

    Durai did not take the news very well. It took a bit of chasing Durai around, and eventually Sam spent the better part of ten minutes sitting on the lad’s back to restrain him. Sam was reminded of himself in his younger years, and even the mad dash through the Nars trying to rescue Scutum years ago. But Durai was not young Sam, and would die, especially if found by the false Kanen. Fortunately Roland and Ishar, along with Pete helped restrain him and calm him

    Eventually Durai came to understand that Sam’s attacker could not have been the respected paladin of Helm. The imposter was sure to try again however. Sam went to great lengths to advise Durai on ways to protect himself, though, Sam could not tell if the stubborn youth listened. He placed so much faith in Torm. Though Sam respected that, he felt there was a difference between a fool’s faith and a faithful’s faith. Durai trusted blindly, and Sam expected that he would take risks that perhaps his faith blinded him to.

    “Mr Helm dunt pertect da dumb, Mr Durai, an’ aint shur Mr Torm would eeder.” Durai stalked off. Sam frowned a while and followed, where he could keep an eye on Durai should any more imposters attempt to get close to him

    Roland convinced Durai to visit Peltarch, to get his mind off the recent events. Roland, Shalia, Durai and Sam set forth to make the journey when Rick charged up, out of breath, but full of vigor. He demanded Sam come at once to the Gypsy Camp… Thyrm had been found and was moving in a lot of help.

    The group changed course and followed Rick at a run. Once at the GC, one of the Rom explained that Thyrm had returned, this time deeper in the forest and had brought with him a gang. A gang that Rick had already learned was named the Shadowcars. Sam was impressed at Rick’s resourcefulness. He had also had the Cardea sword scryed, but it only showed the same gravestone, though, more clearly, the name Cardea could also be seen there.

    The attack upon Thyrms men was a slaughter. Roland, Zak, Maythor and Sam made for an incredible wall. Cheiro scouted ahead while Durai, Shalia, Jann Moonbow and even little Ginger brought up the rear. Thyrm’s men fought valiantly, but were unorganized and scattered. They fell quickly.

    Thyrm was truly worse than his brother. His demeanor and sexual innuendo’s gushing forth like the waterfall he hid behind. Only Rick, oddly enough, contained himself enough to speak to him productively. Though the insults Thyrm threw at Cheiro and some of the others riled them, Sam was impressed by the barbarian. So confident in himself that Thyrms insults were as arrows fired into a brick wall. They shattered upon the man’s spirit, leaving not a trace of indignity.

    Durai’s warnings caused them to tie Thyrm up and Sam, with great pleasure, got to carry the smart mouth out of the forest, He took great pleasure in the task, ensuring Thyrm’s ride was not a comfortable one. The mouth on the man only ceased its profane gutterings when Sam ‘accidently’ carried the man’s head into a tree or ‘shifted’ Thyrm on his shoulder such that it knocked the wind out of him.

    Sometimes being an oaf had its advantages.

    Maythor volunteered the Troff jail cell to contain Thyrm. There they obtained an admission of guilt, that Thyrm and skinned his father, a Tormite knight, alive, and taken the green sash and the sword bearing their last name… Cardea. The murder was solved.

    Sam asked Durai to write to Waterdeep, so the Order of Torm could come for Thyrm and take him away. Thyrm’s belongings were sold and Durai sent this money to the order to be given to the family.

    All in all, Sam felt as though he had finally done something right…. For a change.


  • Rick and Pete had been busy trying to figure out the mystery of Shadowstrider… or... whatever made itself to look like Strider.

    This meant that neither the Hill's founder, nor its Keeper were able to spend watches north of Norwick. Pete Rione, the hopeful next Keeper of the hill seized the guidon admirably. Even as Sam crossed the hill like any other wayward traveller, he saw the fire burning in the distance. He could make out the forms in the distance that Pete had marshalled, a small group to stand with him.

    Sam was proud of the lad. Proud that the hill still had life, proud that there were those that could and would protect the vital crossroads.

    Meanwhile however, Durai was challenging Sam. Physically, the young man's youth and vigor kept Sam routinely out of breath trying to keep up with him. Socially, Durai's charm challenged Sam to keep up. Though Kanen's old friends were trusted and known to Sam, the people young Durai chose as his own were all potential threats to Sam. Each had to be evaluated in turn, and pass the large paladin's scrutiny.

    A scrutiny which many found quite distasteful.

    The most troubling of these new friends was a lady named Shailia, who Sam, in his effort to find a name his tortured tongue could pronounce merely called Ms Shay.

    She was a Sunite of all things, and in Sams eyes, the LAST thing a young aspiring priest needed in his life right now. Especially a priest with so many enemies hiding in every corner and shadow.

    It was obvious to Sam that Durai dissapproved of Sam's methods of ensuring his safety. Always watched like a hawk, Sam knew at some point the boy was going to tell him off. Especially in the matter of the girl!

    Robyn took Durai on a tour of Jiyyd finally, and Shailia and Sam had a moment to 'have it out.' Sam's opinion of the flirtatious and adorable Sunite was quite clear.

    She was a distraction to be gotten rid off, as quickly as possible, so Durai could focus on his studies, the powers of his faith and the mastering of his weapon.

    His thoughts drifted back to how Brother John had begun instructing him, almost fifty years ago.

    _"Today's lesson Sam, shall be on Planning. This is a fundamental…" John would often pause to see if Sam was paying attention, but all too often Sam would just begin reading the textbook instead of paying attention to John's wisdom.

    smack! The rap of Johns staff across the back of Sam's hand never failed to fetch Sam's attention.

    "OW!!" He'd howl and hold whatever part of his anatomy John chose to assault.

    "Pay attention, boy! There is more to study that what is found within the book!" John would tap his temple, to illustrate his experience. "There is wisdom to be found in a book yes, but there is more to be found in experience!"

    John would then relate a story, one where a decision had to be made, and force Sam to choose. Then he would allow Sam to open his book and read the day's lesson. Then Sam would have to choose again._

    But Brother John's methods could not be Sam's. Firstly, he was not a priest of Torm, and could not hope to lecture Durai on something he knew far too little about. And secondly, Sam knew that it was only his place to care and watch over the boy, despite his urges to 'keep Durai's nose to the grindstone'

    No… the young Hightower had it in his blood. His mother was a fine Priest of Torm, and his father a Chosen of Helm. How could Sam hope to suppose he could teach the boy anything.

    Nevertheless, every moment Durai spent ogling Lady Shailia was a moment of irritation to Sam. Durai was too young and inexperienced in Sam's opinion, to not only begin a search for his father, and whatever ills befel him, but to even consider a relationship with a Sunite!

    Sam knew that in time, Durai would become frumpy, like all of the faith did. His disillusionments would fade, the reality of the harshness of Narfell would come. The Sunite would find him... unsuitable. The boyish charm would fade into maturity and Sam was worried that when the Sunite left, the pain the boy would soon feel would cause him to falter.

    To let Durai falter in his faith... Sam felt would be just as bad as letting him die- forfeiting his oath to Kanen. Sam could not let the Hightower name be tarnished by the alure of some girl. Yet, he could not push Shailia away from Durai completely, for he found great joy in her, and would blame Sam if he drove her away. Thus, he would most likely seek her out too, spending even LESS time at his studies.

    What a quandary! Sam grumbled nearly incessantly whenever she crossed Sam's thoughts. She was fine for a Sunite, and perhaps a wonderful person.

    But did she have to smile so much? And that hug! GAH! Sam couldnt bring himself to chew her butt any longer after that and fled, looking for Durai and Robyn.


  • Jubei? Who else could it be? Was he being paranoid? Sam shook his head no, that could not be the case. His paranoia he felt was simple caution.

    Sam felt deep in his heart that the false Shadowstrider had -meant- to hear Durai's secret. Sam wished he knew who Jubei worshipped. Perhaps that could shed a clue or two on his enemy.

    Rick had proposed that the culprit could be an as yet unamed Cyrist from the Gypsy Camp. But Sam did not feel that the Cyrist posed a great threat… yet. Something for another, less stressful time perhaps.

    He'd been unable to spend much time on the hill lately, instead, his travells around Narfell had been wearing him a bit thin. Once upon a time he could walk and run forever it seemed. But now... having to spread himself between Peltarch and Norwick, and be in both places at once, was pushing him to his limit.

    Kharbeh had mentioned the Dark Weaver. This struck Sam as a terrible possibility. Hadnt Kanen made an enemy out of her? She surely would revel in the chaos and confusion this mess was creating in Norwick. And Sam knew, from a long time ago, that her magic could easily reach his damaged mind, cause him to do things he would not wish to do.

    He feared suddenly to be near Durai, in case Sam became the weapon of her choosing.

    However, this thought became a more remote possibility when Sam encountered Shadowstrider outside of Norwick, and the events that followed.

    The tension between the two was great, but Strider was confident in his innocence, and Rick's reports from the Nars were beginning to point less and less at the militiaman, and more at something much more sinister.

    Nevertheless, Strider refused to provide Sam any information which might have helped him find out who would want to use Strider as the fall guy. Their conversation ended civilly, if unfruitful.

    Giving up, he wandered south a bit to think and clear his mind. Encountering Durai, and blundering an introduction with a lady friend of his, Sam managed to begin explaining the days activities.

    Suddenly Rick ran up, breathless and panicked, claiming Strider had just shot Uthger in the back with a crossbow, killing him instantly. Though Sam and Uthger had never been the closest, for the mighty barbarian to be felled in such a manner was a frightening manifestation of their foe's power.

    Rick ran back to check on Uthger in Jiyyd, where preparations were being made to tend to his still warm body, and Sam ran back to check on Strider. Strider was comfortably sitting, just as Sam had found him minutes before, seated by the old rotted tree south of Norwick. Two women had been talking to him for the entire time the 'supposed' attack on Uthger had taken place.

    Sam nodded, his suspicions ultimately confirmed. Even Sam could now vouch for certainty that the militiaman Strider was not to blame, and even more surprising, was not even under the control of another being. Did this mean the Dark Enchantress was not involved?

    Returning once again to Durai and Kharbeh, another possibility presented itself. Kharbeh mentioned dopplegangers and raksasha's. Sam had battled a doppleganger many, many years ago, knowing them quite dangerous, and had encountered one of the feline shapechangers before in Peltarch. He know those to be very deadly, stealthy and cruel opponents. Perhaps one masqueraded as Shadowstrider. It would explain much perhaps. The taking of the ears? The one Sam had met in Peltarch tended to maim its prey, taking the face away. Perhaps the sash was its trophy?

    For a moment, Sam smiled at Helm's plan, as if Helm had known Sam might soon face a shapechanger, he had allowed Sam to come into the possession of a Silver Sword from Krig.

    Their discussion degraded into a series of what if this's and what if that's. Durai tired of it quickly, not allowing himself to worry, trusting that Torm would protect him.

    It appeared the lad suffered from that most heinous of maladies: Puberty. His female companion which Sam had nearly scared to death and offended not twice but three times had obviously taken the young lad's attention off such pressing matters as his safety.

    They departed, leaving Sam alone in the woods to ponder. Even Kharbeh snuck away. Jus as Sam returned to the south gate he found the whole of Norwick in chaos. People were running around in random circles, blades were drawn, and most people could not tell what was going on but shouted incessantly as if they did!

    Suddenly Sam saw Uthger, axe drawn, a touch of blood upon it. Shadowstrider was making a hasty retreat and Uthger was chasing Adriana down with blood lust in his eyes.

    It made perfect sense. The barbarian immediately upon returning to his senses would seek revenge. No doubt he had found Strider and set upon him, and Adriana, seeing only an attempted murder in progress had attempted to stop it. After Strider slipped back into his shadows, Uthger had turned his rage to Adriana.

    Sam cried out, hoping the rage had not affected Uthgers brain. "Stup! Durs two Strid'rs!" Few heard him in the commotion. Adriana fell, and Uthger stood poised to finish her before the crowd closed in around him. Desperately Sam and Rick tried to explain to them what had happened.

    Once again the Norwick militia arrived, the heckling began and a very tense, though not obviously violent truce was acheived.

    Uthger vowed he would slay anything or anyone that looked like Strider if it would help. Strider vowed his innocence yet would not surrender himself to jail to be placed in protective custody. Surely he could see that if these attacks continued while he was safe in a cell, he would instantly be proven innocent- the theory of two Striders proven.

    Nevertheless, he refused, instead returning to shadow and sneaking away amongst the crowd. At least perhaps they would remove him from milita duty. One small victory... perhaps.

    Sam and Rick suffered the flaming insults and assaults on their character as usual. It seemed Norwick's memory was long only in the deeds which would tarnish ones character, regardless of the deeds of worthy note.

    At least, the Norwick Militia, for once, was beginning to come around. Though they and Sam and Rick had an uneasy peace for different reasons, for the moment they were tolerated and listened to as Rick explained the differences he'd seen in the two Striders.

    They sought the Strider with a jagged blade and a crossbow.

    As soon as Sam was convinced that at least a few of the citizens had heard and understood the difference, he left. Hanging around crowds never put him at ease, and a crowd of strangers this riled up was only going to cause him trouble.

    Sam and Rick searched for Durai, to ensure the madness was not a diversion to leave him vulnerable. They ran themselves nearly to death before Sam returned to the Norwick inn on a hunch. Sure enough, Durai was sitting in blissful ignorance of the violence that had raged outside.

    Sam collapsed into a chair, feeling very much the fool, that the lad's chasing of a skirt had kept him so far out of harms way.

    After recanting the events to Durai, Sam left to meet Rick by the north gate, but instead saw him running towards the Norwick Graveyard. following him, he found that two hin had led Rick to the site of an odd slaying.

    Knights in red and black armor had killed a hin in the Rawlins, blue fire apparently scorching the ground. Rick was stunned that the loyal to the Red Wizards could somehow be involved in this too.

    As much of a threat as they posed, Sam still beleived their fight was with the druids... but what if it wasnt?

    Sam and Rick pondered the long list of enemies in quiet discussion on Sam's Hill.

    Red Wizards? But why? and how to stop them? Had Kanen ever dealt with them so much to make him or Durai a target of their revenge had he? And why kill the hin? or Uthger? Sam ruled them out, but not fully. Never fully.

    The Dark Enchantress? Whoever she was... she had a bone to pick with Kanen, and his son would be easy prey. Sam knew if she was the enemy, it would be a simple spell and Sam would most likely kill Durai for her. But only after she had toyed with them some. But... what being was the faux Strider? A hireling? Sam doubted it. She was a weaver, and Sam believed her to prideful too resort to such means. Her power was her magic, her underlings did her bidding unpaid and unwittingly.

    Dopplegangers, or Raksasha remained. And though everything seemed to fit with their methods, what were their motives? Why create this chaos in Norwick by masquerading as Strider? If they could take Uthger down so quickly, surely Durai would already be dead. Sam felt of the silver sword, confident that if he could survive the first attack, Helm's providence with the blade would end them swiftly.

    No.. Sam still most feared Jubei. Feared the way he had struck down Kanen so quickly while deftly dodging the powerful slashes of Sam's weapons. He surely had the motive, of anyone. Yet... Jubei's trademark signature was not present, the methods were different. The darkness he brought with him and the undead that followed.

    It was all a diversion Sam thought. Too much chaos, to many 'perhaps' enemies. If the friends of the Hightower family ran amok every which way chasing every foe they could find... where would they be when the real enemy revealed itself?

    Sam prayed to Helm that night and read a passage from one of the books he had purchased in Peltarch to help Arielle read. The book was about the ways of Helm. Helm the Watcher.

    The Hill be damned, he thought. If the citizens of Norwick were bold enough to enter the caves of the Bandits and attack them in their homes, then they could be bold enough to defend their own when the bandits came in reprisal. He would tell Rick to be wary, since he spent so much time there.

    Instead, Sam's vigil would be on Durai. And he prayed once more that he would be quick enough, and able enough, to save the young man's life before it was cut short.

    He would uphold his oath. He would Watch over the family of his mentor, his ally, his friend. Kanen.


  • More musings from the hill:

    Sam was at his wit's end.

    He knelt on the hill and began to pray for guidance. Strength, never seemd to be lacking- he always seemed to have the strength to rise, "just one more time."

    But guidance. This was something he needed. He knew now, and had nearly always suspected, that Helm had denied him his grace because Sam was always approaching a problem the wrong way. Thus, Helm had forced him to work for so many years under the guidance of another paladin.

    With Kanen's lack of presence, not a single paladin had appeared that Sam felt comfortable working for. Even after Helm had granted Sam a small measure of his power, Sam could not help but look for a wiser man to follow.

    It was not that Sam was lacking for ideas. No, he could come up with ideas all day long- each perhaps just as good as the other in the right hands. In Sam's hands however, he could not predict the outcome. His indecision left him falling back on his only strength: His strength. His strength of body, and his strength of conviction.

    Sam pleaded with Helm for guidance, for the his divine light to shine on one of his ideas more than another.

    His answer came fairly soon, though it was no less disturbing. It was a comfortable peace that things would work themselves out. But this for Sam was not enough. Even in Helm's wisdom, knowing things would work out did not appease the giant's heart. He wanted to know the HOW. HOW would it work out? WHAT should he do to ensure that it did? Such questions Helm did not answer.

    Unanswered, Sam fell back to that which he was most comfortable with- the direct approach.

    It had been a week now since he sat at the south fire of Norwick, a fresh batch of hound kabobs cooling by the fire. He stepped back a ways to let the younger, hungry warriors in constant struggle against the goblins fetch some food to keep themselves strong.

    A paladin of Tyr, Alexander Thromas as there, and a young man Sam didnt know. They sat next to him, kabobs in hand and began to speak to him. The paladin was pleasant, to Sam, a mere child, yet a child who had found his diety's grace and was entrusted now to bear a blade of justice for Tyr.

    The other young man, very young it seemed, but also a tad familiar to him wished to speak with him privately. He introduced himself as Durron Hawkins, and desired to speak in private.

    Unbeknownst to Sam, the matter to be discussed was of incredible importance. Yet, Sam's wisdom once again failed him. The two men retired to the upper level of the Phoenix house and began speaking. Sam's general mistrust of others caused him to disregard the potential importance of the conversation. How could this man, who he had never seen, who appeared so young, have any information that might be so sensitive?

    Sam failed to properly check the house for any 'additional' ears. A decision he would swiftly come to regret.

    The young lad before him began speaking, of trust and trouble. Sam folded his arms, wary of such a conversation. How could someone he never met speak to him of trusting him implicitly, having no where else to turn. Sam's scrutiny of the lad was harsh, though the boy's sincerity was without question.

    Sam's eyebrows raised when the lad mentioned that he was "a long time friend of the family," and suddenly, Sam understood.

    Durai Hightower had returned from Waterdeep.

    Even more disconcerting was the boy's next statement

    Kanen Hightower had never arrived to meet his family in Waterdeep.

    Sam was quickly overwhelmed, to see the young lad again after so many years of hiding, he hugged him and squeezed him, as if to ensure he was really alive and in front of him.

    Suddenly, a movement caught his eye, and Sam would forever swear upon the name of Helm that he saw Shadowstrider bolt for the door, barely visible by some magic. He was gone before either of them could react. Even peeking out the door, Sam knew Shadowstrider was gone, the secret stolen the very second it was revealed. Sam also knew he had no way to find Strider unless Strider chose to reveal himself. He would have to watch carefully in the future if he hoped to accost the information theif.

    Durai's eyes were nearly filled with panic, he feared for his father's life and had come to find him, but now he had to fear for his own life. Kanen Hightower's enemies were many. And the son of Kanen Hightower had no fewer. Indeed- those that might never have opposed Durai's father, might be swift to enact vengeance on his young, inexperienced son.

    Sam knew this, and was afraid.

    Afraid because he had sworn an oath to Kanen, to protect his wife and children in the event of his death. Kanen had survived the sickness that would have claimed him, and perhaps thought Sam relieved of his commitment, but in the mind of the half-orc, his word, once given would live until Sam lived no more.

    Durai and Sam quickly finished their conversation. Sam gave Durai gold to tie up a debt, and assessed the lad's inventory. Like his father, he resisted taking anything, but Sam had a way of being very insistent. Durai begged to repay Sam, but not knowing the oath Sam was under could not easily understand Sam's position.

    If it was a matter of gold, or equipment that would mean the difference between the life or death of Kanen Hightower's son, Sam would pay it untill he had nothing left to pay but his own blood, and that would be paid out as quickly as the gold.

    They parted hastily, Sam eager to begin the hunt for Strider. Durai returned to the fire to train his swordarm.

    In the back of Sam's mind, the threat facing him began to form.

    Who could possibly have stopped the mightly Lord Hightower from reaching Waterdeep safely?

    There was only one answer for Sam. Jubei.

    Only Jubei had defeated Kanen, even as Sam had been at his side, fighting him off. Sam knew that Durai was right to hide himself, but now that Strider knew… it was only a matter of time before Jubei would find out himself. The value of the stolen secret was enourmous, but Sam beleived Strider would sell it for a copper if it were offered.

    A short time later, Rick the Swift acquired a green sash, belonging to a priest of Torm that had fallen from Strider in the Nars. Strider was seen taking the ear of a Marauder Faithful. Sam at once believed the sash was connected to Durai.

    He took it straightaway to Durai, but the lad's reaction was neutral. He had no idea of any signifigance the sash had. Sam was mildy relieved, but his suspicions still raged in his mind.

    Though Sam kept an eye on the young cleric often, he was relieved that he had formed a bond with young Alexander, the two were nearly inseparable. This releived Sam of constant watch, trusting that the paladin could keep tabs on him.

    Sam continued his hunt for information.

    He continued his worry. The secret had been stolen, and it was only a matter of time before Durai became a target. The lad continued to insist on secrecy, and Sam found himself unable to search for information without revealing the truth.

    He pleaded for him to come out of shadow, knowing full well that their enemy's strength was in the shadows of anonymity. Kanen had many friend as well as enemies, and Sam did not feel comfortable being the sole protector of this boy. He knew that if Jubei found them both, alone, that is how they would die.

    Durai acquiesced into informing Robyn Jahnsdotter, and shortly thereafter Rick appeared. As they discussed the sash, and Strider's recent activity, Strider appeared for a moment and ducked away in the grass. It seemed that every one that would know of Durai's return was haunted by the elusive secret stealer.

    Strider vanished again; not even Robyn could track him down.

    One evening later, returning from a patrol in the Rawlins, Sam saw Strider sitting by the old tree just outside the Norwick south gate. At the same time, Rick and Cheiro saw Strider.

    The three surrounded him suddenly. Sam accused him of spying from the Pheonix house, Cheiro accusing him of slaying deer wontonly in the forest, and Rick demanding to know about the sash.

    A crowd formed and Cheiro and Strider grapped a bit, before Sam drew his blade and demanded that Strider hold himself accountable to the accusations. Suddenly the Norwick Militia surrounded them trying to control the conflict.

    Many words were exchanged, and eventually, the weapons were sheathed in exchange for Strider's allowing Krig to cast a spell upon him that would force him to tell the truth.

    Each in turn asked Strider questions. To each accusation, Strider pleaded innocence. Krig confirmed Strider's honesty each time.

    Frustrated and confused, now the object of scorn from Norwick's militia and citizens, Sam and Rick were obligated to leave.

    Neither could understand how Strider could have told the truth, yet, Krig was sure he had. Yet... both Rick and Sam had seen things with their own eyes that Strider had denied! Even Cheiro had seen Strider kill forest animals for sport, yet he had truthfully denied the accusation.

    At their wits end, Sam and Rick, with Elinah Nailow in tow, went to Daisy in Peltarch to ask her to scry the sash for any clues.

    Even that ended in futility. The only image that came from Daisy's scrying attempt was a long forgotten gravestone. Whoever the sash belonged to would not be giving up any secrets.

    The only link between Strider and the sash was Striders admission that he had not seen or touched such a sash in 8 years. Daisy could only presume that the gravestone was more than 5 years old.

    How could they determine the link between Strider and the sash?

    Sam returned to Norwick, trailing the Norwick Militia as they returned from an expedition to the Bandit caves in the Nars.
    Strider was without warning stricken with an odd sickness, which nearly killed him before the miners and militia could get him to Freds.

    They managed to keep him alive, barely until whatever strange effects beset him had passed.

    The only good to come of the days frustrating events was Durai's decision to readily announce his identity. While Sam could not understand how Alannia Diams could convince Durai to do so when Sam could not, he was greatful that the decision had been made.

    At least now, the friends of the Hightower family could quickly mustered to act against whatever evil might lay in wait for the son of Kanen.

    In part, Sam was relieved of his watch over the boy, as others could step in. Sam waited on the hill for Strider to reveal himself. And Sam and Rick could test their newest theory.


  • The blizzard had passed and Sam slept fitfully, the morning dew makin him wet and the chill left in the air by the cold weather made him realize just how old he was getting.

    He pushed himself up, feeling heavier than he used to. His body ached from the cold. His butt was numb from having spent a night of partial sleep sitting up, wrapped in a cloak, watching the plains between nods of sleep.

    As he built the morning fire, watching the flicker of light build to its normal height, he thought about how he had progressed.

    Spending so many hours on the hill, he had had much time to reflect on himself, read on his notes, pray to Helm and even read a book or two on the elven language, though he couldnt even pronounce his own name or its meanings.

    His faith was stronger, he knew that now. It had to be. Lord Kanen had been seen less than even the rumors of his greatness. Lady Nailow desperately tried to keep the Order of paladins strong, yet the temple had been defiled and the grace of Helm had fled. She worked daily with the younger paladins, striving to educate them, mentor them, but just recently had he discovered how much yet they had to learn.

    The Black Hand had once again reared its ugly head. Sam finally understood that his journey to Damara had not been to save a Banite from her faith, but to spend enough time with a Banite to truly understand his enemy. They had defiled the temple he had cleaned on hand and knee alongside others of Kanen's reign. The temple in which Helm had stood and graced Kanen with a touch was now a place where evil came and went without so much as a blink of an eye.

    Sam came in one day to discuss his entry into the Order, to subjugate himself to the new guidance of Elinah Nailow, and found the place empty, the door to the crypts left open. Drawing his sword he charged into the depths to find what ever looters might have broken in. Instead he found Elinah, Cyrus, Cecil and Arielle. They had their hands full in the crypts he found out quickly and was quick to lend his blade, but it wasnt until the Black Hand showed their face that Sam realized to what extend the Order had collapsed, how much work the Lady Nailow faced.

    The inexperience of the faithful in her charge was cruel evidence of the decay of Helm in Narfell. Arielle, though faithful, was uneducated, even to the point of being unable to read or write. She had faith, desire, but lacked Training. Cecil was just young, yet Sam had watched him mature rapidly, becoming less a boy with divine grace and more a man of Helm.

    Cyrus on the other hand angered Sam almost to the point of violence, disregarding Sam's wishes to tend to the wounds of a captive cultist that was to be interrogated. This action cost the Order a mighty boon of intelligence.

    Sam was disgusted. He believed that to belong to the Order was to remain loyal to it, to support the Order in its efforts. The Lady Nailow had directed the capture of the cult member. To everyone's surprise, the captive was not killed by the cult's assassin, but by one of the faithful in Elinah's charge.

    He despised Cyrus's view that he would not aid evil even to the point of protecting one who had surrendered. The cultist was defenseless and was cut down… not by the Black Hand assassin... but by Arielle.

    Sam found himself alone in his views. Alienated by the Order. It seemed so many in this country felt that their own personal beleifs should supersede their loyalty to the Order and those who guided it.

    The wind stirred and the broad shoulders of the Nars Watcher rose above the hill, eyes seeking the morning Marauder patrols as they passed.

    There had been some good news of late. Rick and Aaimie's engagment. He was happy for Rick, wary of Aaimies flirts. Cecil and Arielle had even become engaged. Sam felt consternation over such a young, inexperienced paladin becoming engaged. The recent rending of his own heart made him ever more cautious when his thoughts drifted to Mellia, Nadia or even Frolly. The temptation they presented made him withdraw into himself for protection.

    Though Sam had found faith in Helm, he still lacked much faith in himself.

    He knew that as a blade in service to Helm, he could hardly be more competent. But time and time again, under the tutelage of Darian Stalwart and then Kanen Hightower, he had learned that the time for a blade was far less than the time for words.

    Words were not Sam's strength. Passion, perhaps, and passion drove a blade deep into the flesh of a foe. But that same passion, upon reaching his tongue spewed forth into ineffectiveness.

    Sam battled with the prospect a fate where he could never progress greatness. Not that he desired to be great for greatness' sake, but to be great for the things he could accomplish, the lives he could save or change for the better. He had taken a thousand notes on Darian and Kanen, he knew so much and could easily teach the younger paladins.

    Yet, when it came time for Sam to DO such deeds as he wished them done, he found himself lacking.

    Just recently, a man by the name of Berez had come to the hill, seeking Sam personally. He requested Sam's skill as a healer which surprised Sam. More than his skill, Berez explained, he wanted his presence.

    A young boy, half orcish, had grown up in the gypsy camp hearing rumors of the Nars Watcher. Perhaps one too many bards had visited the camp, spinning their tall tales of stretched truth's and outright lies. Nevertheless, having exhausted all magic and herbal remedies, Berez came to Sam's Hill, one last hope to save his adopted son's life.

    Sam, Rick, Cotton, Theon Thorn Pete Rione and a few others accompanied Berez to save his dying boy. Upon arriving, the look in the boy's eyes reminded Sam sadly of Frolly- a form of worship, misconstrued and ill-placed.

    The boy, so weak as nearly unable to situp or speak, found strength to tell Sam he was his hero and wanted to be just like him.

    With heavy heart, Sam asked him to be better. He hoped that this young lad would pull through, and perhaps Sam could indeed live up to a silly boy's expectations. That perhaps he could impart all of his own failings to the boy, that he would have a better chance to over come the orc blood that would hold him back from success in life.

    Though he had hope to save the boy, the sickness in his lungs was nearly done, the life nearly choked out of him. Despite Sam's own healing touch, weak though it was, and Thorn's powerful restorative magics… he passed away as Sam supported the boy's gaunt, sickly frame.

    Sam's hope, and the hope of all those that were witness, passed into the night with the last escaping breath from the dead boy's body.

    Berez wept. Cotton shed tears and even the young Pete could be seen trying to control himself.

    Though the boy died happy, happy to meet, see and touch Sam before his passing, Sam could not help but feel insignifigant and incompetent.

    What sort of Hero was he, that young boys should die in his arms as they placed their every hope in him?


  • OOC Note: Im about sick of writing Sam's journals in "Sam text." Im going to prose which should be more agreeable to the reader.

    Another snap of cold weather had rolled into the Nars, the yellowish-green grass slowly lightened as the snow began to dust it. Travel across the roads slowed, and even the Marauders ventured out less and less in the bitter cold.

    In the night, there was one who weathered the storm like a rock, huddled in his cloak, yet unlike the average wayfarer, his back was to the fire to preserve his precious night vision.

    Eventually the large being sat down, tired from standing, and edged his back closer to the fire so that the heat might push through his thick fur cloak and warm him.

    He thought in bursts, interupted only by the chattering of his teeth, which normally caused him to pull his cloak a bit tighter before releasing it again in thought.

    He pondered how Kanen had survived the curse which was meant to claim him, and how the Chosen could have survived. He chalked it up to the divine grace which had followed the Knight so closely. He was releived that the responsibility of taking care of Kanen's family had not fallen on his shoulders, as Kanen had requested. Not because he would have shirked the task, but because he dreaded how well he could have done it.

    A gust of wind blew by and his teeth chattered once again. Tugging again on his cloak, his thoughts shifted just as his eyes did across the open plains.

    His thoughts turned then to a woman's face, tears streaming and as if watching a silent movie, watched her full lips mouth the words, "I love you." His stomach turned in angst. He couldnt tell whether it was a blessing or a curse. He only knew that in that moment, he felt powerful, as if suddenly he knew more than he really did, could accomplish more than he really could.

    And then, a week later, his boyish enthusiasm was smitten upon the rocks of reality.

    "Ms Mellia," he whispered to himself, words lost in the rustling of the grass and moaning of the wind. He was fairly certain that she had not meant to hurt him, nor did Anakore deliberately seek to betray him. In fact, when he had challenged Anakore on the subject, he stated on his honor that Mellia had not mentioned Sam at all, and that their kiss had gone no further. Yet it had gone further. The weight of that kiss had cleaved the giant's heart, and the pieces lay scattered around the depths of his soul.

    Though he was no stranger to pain, even emotional pain, this new torturous feeling was something he was completely unprepared for. There was no battle he could fight to change it, no foe to challenge. It was the consequences of a decision made that could not be unmade.

    Ultimately, thinking back, he was amazed at how impotent this pain made him. In a blur, a daze, with unseeing eyes he sat not stood, on his hill. And as the bandit officer's arrow lodged in his shoulder, the poison took hold, he could not will himself to his feet to counter it.

    Sam had known the power of rage, anger and bloodlust in his life, and had used such emotions to will himself to accomplish acts well beyond what he believed he could accomplish alone. But the power of anguish seemed mightier. What emotions could drive a being to greatness, could also drive a man into nothingness.

    He thought how silly he must have looked, wallowing in his sorrow, oblivious to the battle that others fought around him in his time of weakness, holding a hill which was his but he lacked the strength to claim. Even the proclamation of love by Nadia failed to disrupt the stupor he found himself in.

    He regretted how he stared at her dumbly, in too much shock from Mellia to be more shocked by Nadia. Feeling scorned she had beaten him with her shield and even shot him with an arrow!

    Just days later Frolly Twosteps had visited him. He longed to hold her, his love for her running deep, and at the same time her worship of him driving him nearly to tears that she would worship one such as the beast known as Sam.

    With Mellia, it was good to be loved, worse to be hurt.
    With Nadia, it was sweet to be loved, heinous not to return it.
    With Frolly, it was painful to be loved so much, and be forever separated by views and race.

    The wind whipped around him, and the cold outside seemed warm to the cold inside him. He felt….

    Calloused.


  • NEW ENTRY
    Uh oh. Thats all Sam can write.

    Sam has been very worried about Mr Kanen. Found out so much about what has gone on that Sam does not even know what to do now.

    So- Sam made a plan.

    Yes. The Plan. And Sam… did not try to do it. Sam did not try to save Mr Kanen.

    Sam is ashamed of that. And.... Sam is happy. It hurts to be both at once.
    A girl told Sam she loved Sam... and Sam loves Mr Kanen.

    So.. now Sam is in the middle.

    Sam does not want Mr Kanen to die and would die to save Mr Kanen.
    If she loves Sam... would she die to save Sam?

    Sam must find another way to save Mr Kanen. Sam had to stop Sam's plan.. because if she loves as Sam does, she would have given her life for Sam, instead of Sam for Mr Kanen.

    Hold on Mr Kanen! Sam will not let you die. Just... need more time to think.

    half the page goes by unwritten before text begins again, as if the writer paused in long thought, almost a new entry

    Sam knows true love now. Have not felt it for so many years. And Sam might have to give it up... It hurts... it hurts bad. It took a long good cry to get it out.

    But then Sam thought about Mr. Kanen.

    Sam can not imagine what Mr Kanen feels now with Ms Seven and his little children. He knows he will die soon.

    Sam does not even have little children. Sam does not have what Mr Kanen has... and yet, Sam loves the little ones so much.

    Mr Kanen told Sam to care for them. And Ms Seven too. If he dies.
    Sam will. Sam will be a perfect paps for them. But Sam will not ever be so much as Mr Kanen. Not for his little ones, not for the girl that loves Sam...

    Maybe Mr Kanen was right. Sam should look after his family. Not get Sam's self killed.

    Things are so much over Sam's head now. Only Mr Helm can help Sam now. Aint got the littlest clue what to do now.
    Sam feels like a squirrel on a log in a white water river now.


  • Well. So much for Sam's notes. Lost a whole lot of pages coming home and can not find them anywhere.

    Coming home was hard. Things have changed so much. There are a few faces Sam still knows, but so many others…. Where have they all gone?

    Folks go over the hill, day in and day out. They do not know who Sam is. And no one knows why Sam stood there. They all call it Sam's Hill and they do not know why.

    Now maybe bandits are not what Sam should worry about anyway?

    In the Dalelands Sam found Red Wizards and Banites. Now that Sam is back, Sam finds them here too.

    Maybe Sam was supposed to go to the Dalelands and learn how to fight them and come back home and do it here. That is all Sam can think of.

    Some things just do not make sense to Sam.

    Lily was not mad at Sam for being gone. But Lily was not so happy when she saw Sam.

    Sam thinks Sam did a bad thing by going away.

    It is not so hard now for Sam to know why all the paladins are lonely.


  • NEW ENTRY

    The hill has been too busy. Have not had time to look for Ms Frolly and barely had time to visit Ms Mellia in Peltarch.

    Mr Kanen is not retired, but not sure what he does any more. The other day we had to save Ms Shane from cult fellows. He does not look like he is getting to old for this. Anyway, Ms Shane is safe and the cult fellows took a few good licks and best remember them for a long while unless they want some more.

    No one has seen Ms Frolly. Every day Sam looks under this and that on the way out to the Nars, hoping to find her. They say she tried to keep Sam's hill safe, but she's so small, Sam can not imagine how hard that must have been for her.

    The new bandits magic is terrible.

    Past couple of weeks they have been hitting pretty hard. Even threw another one of their war machines at us, but that one went down with a bit of fighting.

    What worries Sam is the Iron Horde. First it was just their scouts, one at a time. Now Sam is seeing groups of Iron Horde coming at the hill. If there is one group of folks that Sam will have a hard time keeping off the hill, it will be Iron Horde infantry. They busted through the gates of Xyra like Sam was a foot mat.

    Sam thinks that Callendal Mage fellow from Spellweaver is smarter than the bandits have ever been. Sam thinks he is the one using magic to send the squads at us. They can jump righton top of the hill anywhere with his magic.

    He probably knows right now how bad hiring on the Iron Horde will hurt us.

    That is, if he can afford them and wants to sleep comfortable at night with Banites as his bed fellows.

    The only good news is… its just the scouts. Least they dont blow up like the infantry when they die.


  • NEW ENTRY

    Found all of Sam’s old papers…

    the writer paused in long thought here, evidenced by several pen marks of sentences begun and stopped at the first sign of a letter

    Guess something should be put down. About all this. About all that. About what Sam can not bring Sam’s mouth to say when people ask where Sam has been.

    Ms Vroka was awful nice for keeping everything. Guess Sam should be nicer to her. It is not her fault she has bad blood, just like Sam can not help it. She does like Sam. Always has. But, she hopes for Sam, hopes Sam would be her one.

    Hope. Damned if Sam has not hoped all of Sam’s life for this day. This day should be Sam’s Day, the day Sam’s whole life rose up to become. The peak of the mountain! Sam hoped for this day since Sam was old enough to know how to hope for something. From the beginning, Brother John was there, pushing Sam for this day, and Sam failed and failed. And now, Sam is getting close to fifty years old.

    Fifty years of waiting. The day has come. And Sam is sad.

    NEW ENTRY

    Helm protects Sam now. It is such a relief to know that Sam will never go through this again. It was not so bad when it was Tyr, or Helm pushing Sam to do what Sam could not do alone. But.

    Gruumsh instead of being written boldly with hate, the name is barely visible on the page

    Why did it have to be him? Why did he make Sam do all those things. Revenge? Sam hates him. Sam hated him then, hates him now, and Sam will find new hate to give him. Someday, somehow, he will suffer his deeds.

    Suffering deeds. The things Sam did. It made Sam see them. Terrible things, on people that did not deserve it. And now, Sam pays.

    Helm found a way. No one is left to Sam anymore. Those old friends, the ones Sam could run and hug, and love for just who they are… are gone to Sam now. Those that are not yet, just have not had the time to slip away.

    The first was Miss Frolly. She thought Sam was her god. But Sam was just her friend. Maybe she thingks friends ares good a thing to have as Sam does. But, when Sam, her friend, needed help… She said she did not try to help Sam. the pen trails off as if the writer lacked the strength to press

    Everyone in the temple said they all came to help Sam. They did it for duty. Was Sam not good enough of a friend?

    Sam can not stop asking- why?

    That is when the pain started. When Sam’s friends started to slip away. It hurts, damn it, it hurts Sam bad! Friends were all Sam had to live for. Friends were why Sam wanted to help Helm. But now, Sam has to watch for Helm and not those that Sam loved and Sam thought loved Sam back.

    Ms Frolly turned her back on Sam. Because she hates Mr Helm. a big tear punctuates this sentence

    Now Sam has to try to help her. Not because she is Sam’s friend, or Sam is hers, but because Helm wants it.

    Sam just wants to love her and be loved back. Like before.

    NEW ENTRY

    Next it was Ms Yurana. What happened to her!?

    She fought the Skulls and Sam helped her and we cried together for hours so many times as the fear of death was so strong on her. Sam helped her when she turned away from her god and was there when she found him again.

    Sam thought our greeting would be warm. But, it was cold and Sam could feel the meanness inside her now. It was such pain, to be so wrong. And now, Sam must walk the thin line that Mr Kanen and Mr Darian barely managed.

    Mr Kanen. He hugged Sam when he saw Sam. But Sam did not share it. Sam fought so hard for him and Helm. Sam rescued his little ones from fire and and fought Ms Melrus’s folks out of his house., saved his life when Mr Jubee would have taken it. Sam would have died for Mr Kanen. And then, when Sam was Taken- Mr Kanen retired.

    It hurt.

    Mr Darian. It let Sam see. Saw Mr Darian fight the orc, and lose. Saw Mr Darian stand up again. He was dead. Why he did not die I do not know. And then.. it made Sam see it cut him again. He died trying to save Sam and it made Sam watch.

    And it hurt.

    Mr Braeth. Sam used to look to Mr Braeth as someone Sam could trust, who did things for the good of all. But, Mr Braeth’s ways can not be Sam’s ways any longer. Mr Helm made that very clear when Sam tried to save a man from a sword he could not put down. A ‘soul stealer’ Mr Braeth called it. So, Sam cut off the hand to save the man. But the man fell down dead.

    Helm scowled and Sam felt it.

    And it hurt.

    Ms Scutum, Sam misses her. She is so busy, but she was always Sam’s longest friend. But her new job takes her away and Sam can barely steal a moment to talk to her, and never long enough to catch up.

    Ms Miiya. Sam still loves to hold his little happy elf. She is so innocent. She perhaps is the only one who does not care of the why behind what Sam has to do now. She still loves the way Sam used to love. Sam has to love with condition now.

    And that hurts.

    Ms Mellia, the pretty singer from Peltarch. She and Mr Darian were so close. She cried at his death, and could not understand Sam’s life.

    If she was loved by Mr Darian, then she is loved by Sam. It is not hard. Sam feels for her. Sam was there when her man left her, and knows what he was like. It was good for her to know Mr Darian. She needed to know a man like that, one that would not bring her pain. It must hurt her as much as Sam hurts to think about his loss.

    But now, she chooses another man and Sam does not trust him.

    Sam’s duty to Mr Darian, his love for her, and Mr Helm’s will. Sam worries how Sam will make the right choice.

    Soon, the only thing Sam will have left is Mr Helm. Either Sam will have only him, or Sam will fail him, and choose wrongly.

    Sam fought being Taken out of hate. Sam fought and was faithful to Helm because the enemy was so near. Now, Sam wants to love again. And everywhere Sam turns to love, it can not be.

    Sam knows what the Burden means now. Why the other paladins are the way they are. Sam was blind to it before. They are they way they are because they are lonely, their only company- their faith.

    The loneliness takes Sam, and Sam does not want it.

    Who will Sam find to be Sam’s friend again. It is as lonely as when Sam first got here.


  • For time-sequence continuity.

    http://nwn.black-flag.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=8335

    For those interested on the backstory behind the backstory… this will tie up alot of loose ends.

    http://nwn.black-flag.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&p=22029#22029

  • ?

    TEASE! Boo!

    My god, Sam. I do so love your writing. Would that we had known each other from the start. Tsk. Write forever, Sam, knowing that I linger over every word.

    Well, maybe not linger…


  • Been too busy to take much more than a note here or there.

    Maybe if theres time to later, all these notes might mean something that can be writtie down. Half of it does not even make sense to Sam.

    {{aka… was too uninspired to write journals}}

    But to sum it all up. The bandits are not gone, Mr Atol is not gone, Rass is not gone. Mr Jubee is not gone, but at least Ms Melrus is gone. Oh, and Mr Kanen's lich is gone too. Too bad Sam did not have anything to do with getting rid of them. Do not know how Sam will ever prove to Mr Helm Sam can really be a paladin if Sam can not ever show him how Sam can help.

    But enough of blubbering, there is things Sam needs to write about.

    Today was a very scary day. Orcs hit Jiyyd very hard, saying they wanted food. We all decided to let them starve. If they were Blood Moons they would eat their own dead so Sam told them to do that very thing and go home. Guess they did not like that idea. They are going to get help and come back.

    They hit awful hard the first time. They will hit us harder next time. So... there are a few things Sam better get down on paper just in case.

    First, to be a Paladin. Saw Mr Helm in person! It was like someone hit Sam over the head again. Sam found it. Found FAITH! So, maybe soon Sam can take the Paladin's Test of Faith.... again. But this time Sam knows that Sam can do it. Sam WILL pass!

    And also, this has never happened to Sam before.... There are girls Sam likes, and some of them like Sam back. That is kind of a first, yes?

    But a little bad advice might have kind of ruined most of all that. In the end, there are still two girls that Sam can not stop thinking about. Ms Lily and Ms Frolly.

    Guess you can say Sam loves them both! So.. what about them should Sam write ... to say what Sam feels about them. Well, first, the one Sam thinks Sam loves more. That is- the writing jags as if the writer was startled

    The orcs are coming back. Must finish later.

    the writings are crumpled as if shoved into something very quickly

    hours later, the papers were stained with blood


  • NEW ENTRY

    Ran up to Peltarch to buy potions. Its the only place to get them. On the way out, Sam heard Ms Aspera tell Mr Ashan to get Sam and bring Sam to her.

    Tried to run but Lily was with Sam and she can not run as fast. Mr Ashan caught us. He told Sam to go with him to Peltarch but there was no WAY Sam was going to walk with THAT fellow.

    So it came to a scrap. Blasted magic. Mr Ashan cast a spell and Sam had to run.. then he cast more spells and Sam could not run anymore. It was over awful quick.

    Woke up in a jail cell. Mr Kanen got Sam and we had to go to a trial. Sam would have ran from any one else… but not from Mr Kanen.

    The trial was not fair. Ms Aspera was tricking Sam to say stuff that got Sam in more trouble. Then she took 1500 gold and said Sam had to get 100 whacks with a whip.

    One Hundred.

    Sam knows two things now. Sam hates Ms Aspera and Mr Ashan.... and Mr Helm kept Sam from yelping even once. Had to pray the whole time and it was awful hard to keep it up.. to... have faith? Maybe Sam had a little faith... enough when it counted maybe.

    Mr Ashan was kind of mad that Sam lived. Not sure what to think of it. It did not seem fair, but Sam survived it and now Peltarch can not touch Sam. Sam paid the toll and is still here. Sam will catch them with their guard down, sometime.

    Evil folk can not hide behind laws forever. And there's no law in the Nars.


  • NEW ENTRY

    Met another dragon. Called itself Rass. Worst meeting ever. It cornered us on the hill, wanting gold. We gave it.
    Sam almost had everyone off the hill but then Ms Tiger came back to get Sam. …

    Wish Sam would have known then what Sam found out later, but we did not have time to finish our talk before that blasted dragon came. It blew fire... it was not a nice way to go.

    Sam has a present for that dragon this time. Hope the dragon likes all 4 of its feet where they are... attached to its legs.
    But Lily does not want Sam on the hill anymore, and have to say, do not mind having a reason to leave it be.

    NEW ENTRY
    Mr Kanen's family is in trouble. We put out a fire inside his house one day. His kids were safe.

    A while later Sam an Mr Kanen helped a dwarf paladin, Sir Mirit. We went after bugbears and Mr Kanen had to duel one alone, without help. When is he going to learn he needs help sometimes?
    After that we went to Peltarch and some common thugs tried to kill us. They almost got Mr Kanen, but Sam was able to knock down enough that they didnt have time to do it.
    Then we talked to some fellow named Set. He was not much of a talker either. Had to kill him too. We took his armor, it was the nicest set of armor. Sure wish Sam could have had that armor. Mr Sir Mirit gave Sam Mr Set's axe. It was a really nice axe, but it was a little axe and not something Sam wanted so gave it back.
    At least Mr Sir Mirit gave Mr Kanen enough gold to replace all the potions we had to use that night. Was a close thing, it was. Mr Kanen and Sam almost did not make it through that night.

    NEW ENTRY
    More dragon sightings. Its almost like that Rass knows Sam's got a plan. Its a secret plan but if that dragon comes back to the hill its gunna know pain, just like the pain it gave to Lily.

    NEW ENTRY
    Sam's an outlaw again. It always happens in the big cities. Someone does not like Sam's blood and wants to make a stink about it. Guess arguing with a judge was not a good idea. How was Sam supposed to know this Aspera elf was a judge?
    Anyway... got thrown in jail for that stupid hat law they have. Then little Sasha let Sam out and we both ran away.
    Ms Aspera put 3000 gold on Sam's head. What a witch. Wish she would have stayed dead when Mr Kanen killed her the first time.

    Only good news is Lily. She is the one thing in the world that makes waking up worth it. No matter what happens, or how bad things get Sam can always have someone to look forward to seeing now.

    NEW ENTRY
    Finally met this Mr Jubee. He was asking about Mr Kanen, but he was not friendly about it. Sure found out why. Mr Kanen walked up on us and then Sam figured out who this fellow really was. Mr Kanen sure does have a knack for picking bad fellows for enemies. We fought. Sam could not even hurt him. He put Mr Kanen down in just a few swings and ran away. Sam could not chase him far because Mr Kanen was dying on the ground.
    At least Sam did not lose another paladin. Ms Seven and the two kids were safe in Peltarch. Guess that made Mr Jubee mad.

    NEW ENTRY
    Cursed Orks hit Jiyyd again. No idea why, but we fought em. Nearly killed Sam AND Lily. After Lily went to bed, Sam and a few others, like Mr Bruno went south and scuffed them up pretty hard. Then they ambushed us as we left. It was a good ambush... they won.
    Woke up in Peltarch again. Having friends is good, but Sam lost all the gold and alot of Sams stuff got lost in the fight.
    Starting over is hard, and getting that farm seems further away than ever.
    Guess Sam will spend more time on the hill and sell bandit stuff for a while.


  • since the first great battle of Sam's hill when the war machine struck Sam in the head, his writing degraded dramaticly

    NEW ENTRY
    Been about four months now on this hill. In the beginning, defiance, to take this hill away from them was special. It inspired others.

    Inspiration gone.

    Had enough of the hill. Had enough of all those folks expecting Sam to always be on that hill. Tired of killing folks day in and day out. Heard a rumor they want to talk, but do not know how to talk well enough, and no one will go with to talk FOR Sam.

    Feel sick standing on it anymore. What is going to happen? Stand, wait. They attack. They die. They get buried. Folks come by and say good job an move on. No one asks… Tired? Hungry?

    They just ask why is Sam not on the hill?

    Only Mr Kanen, Ms Eo, Ms Clandra, and Ms Yura know how Sam feels. Rest do not care.

    Wish they would just put down the swords and go be farmers. Then Sam could buy a farm too.

    NEW ENTRY
    One of Sam's best friends is in big trouble. Can not write about it in case the bandits get these papers. No one trusts her but Sam, and she can not trust anyone else. I hope she lives through this. Sam can not help her where she goes.

    NEW ENTRY
    Aint seen Ms Miiya in ages. Guess Sam scared her off too.

    Least Sam has Mr Kanen now. He's all the family Sam has. It took forever, but finally Mr Kanen trusts enough to ask for help. Ms Seven is polite too, but very quiet.
    Sam and Mr Kanen did a few things together and its almost like helping Mr Darian again. Mr Kanen is younger, and more hot headed than Mr Darian, but he still worries just like Mr Darian did.

    He finally got his Holy sword! Sam's awful proud of him. It took him alot longer than Mr Darian, but Mr Kanen is alone. Mr Darian was always in the big cities, talking with the Order all the time, getting told what to do... Mr Kanen just has to figure everything out himself and that must make it a lot harder on him. He's still poor as dirt, just like Mr Darian, so its good that he finally is letting Sam help him. Just the other day he needed potions and Sam felt bad for charging Mr Kanen for them, but someday Mr Kanen aint going to have the money and Sam will just forget that Mr Kanen owes anything.

    Aint no way Sam's going to lose this paladin too.


  • http://nwn.black-flag.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=8335&highlight=

    (Inserted to keep chrononology straight)


  • NEW ENTRY

    Alburn is tough. Ms Velaria's techniques are sound, rooted in proven techniques, but she is more merciful than she ought to be. The Alliance is not strong enough to ever hope to fight through the bandit lines and reach their soft interior. We NEED the information he has. So we can slip past where they do not expect and hit them where they do not want

    He is breaking, but slowly. We need another victory, and soon. They say that fame is fickle, and the reputation of the alliance is a kind of fame. Without constant victory, the people of Narfell may soon lose faith in the Cause. That would be the end of us.

    Mr Bruno has been a great addition in some ways. His exploits with simple kegs are not enough to curb his insatiable desire to destroy things. The Alliance gives him a reason to blow things up for a good cause for a change. Together, we might have put together a plan to destroy the bandits forever in Narfell, but that is not something for a mere diary. Should Sam die and these notes fall into their hands… No matter if a thousand bandits lay at my feet, the Plan must not be revealed. Oddly enough, the Alliance needs more people to join the Cause, and the hope this plan would inspire would certainly give the masses the hope they need. But at the same time, only one traitor could steal that hope from the entire land.

    Barron Alburn is a key...
    Mr Bruno might be a key...
    and Velaria is the key...

    So now Sam has to protect three people. The failed rescue attempt made by the bandits surely shows how afraid they are that Barron will talk. By some divine power, Mr Bruno and Sam prevented his rescue, and with any luck it will take the bandits months to replace the officers they lost.

    Ms Velaria's plan is bold and will work but will be so difficult to lead.... I wonder daily if she has the strength. She seems so frail. After all, she is a performer, an actor, and never been a soldier or anything of the sort.

    And Mr Bruno... can he be trusted? A single accident could remove the Alliance in a blaze of glory. And when that blaze faded from the horizon, there would be no more hope.

    The Cause stands on the brink of success or failure.

    NEW ENTRY
    Ms Vel still working on Barron. Nothing yet.

    Had to do something... so... named a hill after Sam. Sam Hill. Just north of Norwick, just south of the Norwick-Jiyyd crossroad.

    Going to hammer a sign there later, and its going to say:

    This is Sam's Hill. Bandits will be killed on sight. Wayfarer's may rest by the fire for all those on Sam's Hill are protected from harm whenever the fire is lit.

    It is a lot of killing. Sam dont like it. But Ms Vel thinks that just by having Sam stand on top of a hill, with a fire going is enough to make people think the Alliance CAN make a difference.

    They smile alot. Wonder if they think its funny, or if it really matters.

    Its going to take all day tommorow to bury these bodies. The first week, the bandits tried to take Sam's Hill away from Sam. It's still Sam's Hill, and the bandits probably dont like that much. Guess they'll be coming back later.

    They are going to need more bandits next time.

    NEW ENTRY
    the usual charcoal stump appears to be pressed much lighter, as if the writer were so unsure of his words that he could not press them down with boldness

    Where does Sam begin....

    There is an elf girl. Ms Miiya. Sam likes her. Have not liked a girl this much since Ms Nara....

    Probably this will end bad for Sam. It always does. Ms Miiya is so sweet. Met her in Jiyyd once and we talked for a long time. She giggles and laughs when Sam says funny things and she is so cute. She does not even seem to notice Sam's blood.

    Dont even know what to write... just kind of rambling. Been on this Hill for two straight days and have not slept. Keep hearing bandits, but they are not there.

    Trying to stay awake... trying to keep this Hill safe so people can stop by Sam's fire. But keep thinking about Ms Miiya. Wonder what she would think if she knew Sam sits on top of a hill all day long now and waits to kill people.

    Sam feels like a bandit.

    Ms Miiya never comes up this way by herself. She came by once, but that was with Mr Damarcus. Mr Damarcus is a good fellow, but Sam does not trust him. Ms Miiya is just so... so... innocent. Mr Damarcus.... aint.

    How does Sam talk to her? Ms Scutum gave Sam some good advice... cant remember what it was...

    Its getting close to noon... Its hot... I stink... tired... at least there is a lot of food and drink. Bandits are going to change shifts soon. Maybe knock a few down Sam's hill and go catch a nap in Norwick... so tired...

    Maybe dream about Ms Miiya...

    Sam aint that lucky...


  • Sam woke up, having decided to spend a night in a real bed in the Regal Whore. The previous day's capture of Captain Barron Alburn had left Sam's back somewhat sore, as Sam had lugged the heavy bandit from his den all the way to the Alliance Arms Inn.

    As was usual on any given day that the mighty half-orc felt like adventuring, he visited a few of the local stores for supplies. As Sam was a veteran fighter, skilled with virtually every weapon made of metal or wood, everything had its place.

    He carefully tied his medicine bags with quick release ties along his belt. The handles of his many throwing axes, were placed into loops across his torso for quick access. Sam could deftly slip them from their loops and hurl as many as two before most targets could even close the distance with him. With Sam's great strength, even a small rock was a formidable weapon if he could hit with it.

    The streets of Jiyyd were quiet, and that was how Sam liked it. Even though it was still early morning, the tempo was not likely to pick up. He set off to Norwick, to satisfy his urge to talk to someone and perhaps do a good deed.

    Passing west of Jiyyd, through orc land, Sam couldnt help but stray from the path a moment to exact a little more revenge on the orcs. They fell easily, and their meager belongings soon filled Sam's pack. When Sam reached the Nars however, he spotted a group of three in combat with a Faithful bandit warrior. They dropped it easily before he could get there, nevertheless, he check to see if everything was allright.

    Robyn, Marcus and Skyla all stood over the fallen body of te Faithful.

    "We're fine," Skyla purred as if it were as easy as sweeping kittens off a table.
    Sam shrugged, about to return to his path to Norwick. "Okee."
    "Well, we are on our way to Peltarch, Sam, if you care to join us."
    Sam hefted his bag on his shoulders, it was quite heavy, but then Skyla offered a solution.
    "By way of the Gypsy camp you mean." Sam grinned. He could sell his treasure there and continue on to peltarch and hopefully sell anything he picked up along the way past the gypsies.

    The foursome set out, and only ran into a few bandits along the way. They were overmatched.
    Sam bid the couple, Marcus and Robyn, on their way for a dinner date in Peltarch to wait for him while he sold his items. He huffed quickly past Skyla, sauntering into the camp past a group of people conversing near Gypsy Pass to sell the crude Orc equipment.

    On his way back he passed the group again… but this time, he could see their faces!
    "Ashan!" Sam whispered to himself harshly. "An Mr Aabi!" Sam couldnt beleive what he saw... Mr Aabi, in polite company with Ashan the Banite murderer.
    Sam realized he was alone, in Alliance colors, within sight distance. There was no escape save the way he came, so Sam put his mighty legs in gear and propeled himself as quickly as possible past them, trying to avert his face so as not to be recognized. Even Sam was not so unwise as to realize his yellow and black armor would attract far more attention than he was prepared for!

    He reached the couple and raced past, shouting "Ashan's back dere! C'mon!" They too quickly joined him in a sprint back into the Nars and away from the cursed Banite and the camp.

    When they reached the road they ran into the familiar, friendly face of Bruno Galpen. Sam quickly recanted the events and soon Bruno was heading to Peltarch too. Someone had the bright idea to let Bruno lead the way. Perhaps the group thought he knew a safe route.

    He didnt.

    In no time the group was surrounded by the fiersome bandit dogs, untrained bandits, Faithful, and officers. Fortunately Marcus kept knocking the enemy weapons from their hands, and Bruno put a severe pounding on them with his mighty hammer.

    In no time, a dozen bodies littered the Nars, some still groaning from their wounds. The couple felt safe enough to continue alone.

    "Whutcha tink 'bout checkin on da gud Captin eh, Mr Bruno?"
    Bruno grinned in response.
    "Okee den, off ta da Inn."

    The two large half orcs trotted towards the Alliance Arms Inn. It was late afternoon.

    They arrived at the Inn, bout an ale apiece and wandered down into the AAI's dungeon to check on the captured bandit captain. He was asleep, curled on the floor.

    Sam chuckled and said, "Watch dis." He ran out of the room, to fetch a pail of water, which he splashed onto Barron's cell floor.

    "Why do dat?" Bruno asked.

    "Cuz whin Ms Vel gits back tonight, she gunna freeze dat water... so's dat feller kin be tucked in gud fer bed, eh?"

    Bruno chuckled mightily. It WAS cold down there. Perhaps some freezing had already been going on?

    The two orcs returned to the top floor for another ale, rest, and they treated each others wounds as best as their skills would allow. Bruno, apparently not quite the skilled herbalist that Sam was. Quaffing another ale each, with one in hand as they walked outside to sneak home in the waning light of evening, they opened the door and went outside, Bruno trailing just slightly.

    (As if two mighty half-orcs could walk out a door side by side!)

    Sam dropped his ale abruptly.

    His hand went to his weapons instinctively.

    Stretched out before them, just outside the gate of the Alliance Arms Inn courtyard, was more bandits than either of them had ever seen in their lives.

    "TO ARMS! TO ARMS!" Sam hollered, but, frozen in fear, he blocked the door. Either that or Bruno was still stumbling into the door frame behind him.

    Sam let loose a rapid, accurate volley of 4 axes, each one striking a bandit square in the face, taking them down instantly. Before he could reach for another axe, two Faithful's came crashing down on him, and a female bandit officer, with her poisoned dagger in hand, working her way behind him.

    "Mr Bruno!! Get out here!" Sam didnt know who to swing at first. He swung blindly, mostly in fear, unable to take stock of the reinforcements pouring through the gate. Suddenly, Sam looked up. Both Faithfuls were dead and the assassin lay mortally wounded at his feet, crawling away, but there was no time for a victory dance, already the gate was breached and more bandits were surrounding him.

    Sam found himself encircled by Officers and Faithfuls, each one he knew had the capability to kill him outright. He backed towards the door....

    .... and bumped into Bruno! Bruno! Thank Helm, Tyr and Torm all at once for good old Bruno! He had summoned a mighty creature to fight for them, and the threesome pushed the bandit hordes back to the gate.

    The bandits were well organized, and as Sam finished with his last fight, he charged in to help Bruno with his, as Bruno was vastly outnumbered. Suddenly he felt a vile dagger sink between the armored plates of his back, and the pain of the poison sucked his strength from him. He staggered back and tried to deal with these new, hidden foes from the shadows.

    "Ach... grrg... Kint hold 'em, Mr Bruno!" The clashing sounds of battle and bandit warcries caused them both to yell.

    "Go in! Ah gots's em!" The wounded Sam welcomed the opportunity to leave the battle, and quickly retreated inside.

    He downed several of his medicine pouches for poison, and eventually felt the threat diminish, but the effects were still on him. He quaffed potion after potion to regain is strenth.... and waited... and waited.

    It seemed like an eternity, but it was only perhaps a mere 20 seconds, but Sam could not wait for Bruno to come inside.. not while he fought alone outside. Suddenly, all fear left Samson Swarthout.

    Sam got angry.

    With a mighty roar, he crashed through the door into the courtyard and screamed at the top of his lungs, "Yuh AINT Gunna git 'im back!"

    With a second wind, Sam jumped in to save Bruno, who was completely surrounded by officers and faithful. Sam concentrated on keeping the enemy off their feet so Bruno could land accurate hammer blows to their prone skulls. In no time the two half- orcs defeated another dozen of their elite. The bodies were so thick that everyone stumbled across the courtyard turned red-stained battlefield.

    Opening the gate to press into the enemy and return the offence back to the Alliance, they spotted what looked like at least another forty bandits coming at them.... the second wave. Bruno and Sam looked at each other, panic, anger, and resolve to do their duty all in their eyes.

    "Inside!" Bruno screamed. Sam didnt need to be told twice! The two hurriedly raced inside, panting, leaving bloody footprints all across the tavern floor. The bartender, even in his fear, scowled at the mess that they made across his floor.

    "Dey tuk Sam's stenth, Mr Bruno... poison."

    "We's goin back out. Give's us a bit." Bruno began casting spells in a quick desperation. There was no holding back. Bruno cast a strong strength spell on Sam which restored the giants devastatingly strong muscles, and even enhanced them. Bruno summoned his mighty beast to aid them one last time. A few more spells and the two looked at each other again.

    There would be no more retreating.

    With a raging yell, the two charged out the door and slammed into another half dozen officers and faithful, knocking several off their feet, careening into each other. By this time the enraged Alliance men worked together in harmonious union, concentrating their efforts and cutting the bandits down one after another.

    Despite the Alliance's fiece defense there were just too many, too strong. Bruno suddenly stepped to the side a moment and called down lightnight from the heaveans in a fantastic display of eerie blue destruction.

    "Dis's da end!" Sam cried out, thinking that the bright light that blurred his vision was the light at the end of the tunnel.

    But the sounds of battle were still with him, and his sword arm still swung. Bruno called down another volley which so weakened every enemy in the courtyard the two finally managed to rapidly they push the bandits back to the gate.

    "Sam, hold gate! Me's gunna check's Barron. Make sure dey's aints gots him's!"

    "Yuh!"

    Bruno dissappeared, his dastardly creature went with him.

    Suddenly Sam was alone.

    He peeked through the crack in the gate and saw more bandits reinforcing. He sighed.

    "Sam's gunna die tuday," he muttered. Backing away from the wide gate, he placed his back against the door to the inn, hoping Bruno would return soon. The lull in the battle was disconcerting. He stabbed his hand and a half sword into the ground where it would be waiting for him. What WERE they doing out there!?

    Organizing.

    Sam had his last few axes ready, to decimate them once they opened the gate, and sure enough they poured through yet again like water.

    "Rah! Rah! Rah!" Sam threw his axes in a pure, seething anger, the kind of anger only orc blood can muster. He reached down for another axe- they were close now, Three more stumbling or fallen from his axes.

    But there were no more axes left in Sam's little loops. There was no time to unsling his bow. He grabbed his sword.

    He charged.

    This was it, and Sam knew it. Hurling himself into the last fray the bandits scored hit after hit. Sam turned and stumbled away towards the door, quaffing his last potion in a desperate attempt to keep his feet. Where was Bruno!?

    The potion was a fine brew, and Sam turned, suddenly revitalized. Completely surrounded and nearly blind from the blood of his enemies streaming down his face, Sam didnt even notice when Bruno appeared from behind him. Bruno raced past, peeling several attackers from Sam and crushing them instantly under his hammer.

    Near death, with his attackers at his feet, Sam paused a moment to watch Bruno charge into the fray with renewed vigor. Bruno smashed opponent after opponent, pushing them back to the gates. Ultimately, even Bruno's assault was stalled and Sam lugged himself over aid his comrade.

    He heard a tinkle in his pack, and realized he still had some small potions he used for others, but the time for holding back was long gone. He drank everything he had, and it wasnt much.

    Together, side by side, Bruno and Sam smashed the last of the Bandits against the gates, like waves of the ocean smashing a swimmer against the rocks.

    It was over.

    The two leaned on the gates, looking at each other, covered in gallons of the bright red human blood they had spilt. At least they were uniform.

    Sam tried to laugh it off, "Too bad we dint haff a keg eh, Mr Bruno?"

    Bruno chuckled, more strongly than he felt, but anything to break the tension was welcome. Unfortunately, Sam had to restore it.

    "Guess we gutta luk out da gate an see whut else dey got left eh?"

    Bruno sighed tiredly, "Yup. We's do." He paused. "Here we's go." Bruno kicked open the gates revealing the Giantspire valley.

    One lone Faithful stood in the distance, praying for strength.

    Leaning heavily on their swords, Sam and Bruno waited patiently.

    "Aw... c'mon! Sam's tired! Dunt make us walk over dere!?"

    The Faithful was obliging and he charged , Bruno's hammer knocked him into Sam, who practically fell on him, knocking him down. Again, Bruno's hammer crushed another skull.

    NOW it was over.

    "Barron still down dere?" Sam's words were loud in the quiet silence.

    "Uh huh," Bruno panted.

    "Tink we kin git dat ale now?"

    "Uh huh."

    Side by side, Bruno and Sam drug their weapons behind them, exhausted, completely spent.

    Resting finally on the stools, a trail of blood tracked into the Inn, Bruno asked one final question.

    "We's nut's cleanin' dis mess up's, is we's?"

    "Nuh uh."

    **OOC Note: I dont know how many bandits we killed. Ive never killed so many at once EVER! Thanks to Bruno and BIG thanks to SeraPhaine (perhaps other unkown DM's? ) for running something so.... SCARY! holds onto his precious 1k RPXP over cap