Posted: Sun May 05, 2002 6:45 pm
Myself, Boddington and Caen sped to the frontier upon hearing reports of an invasion... this turned out to be nothing... so after an hour or so of slaughtering forest giants (see the sketch I drew on a previous note) we decided to take the war to Midgard.
Portaling through to the white wastes of Odin's Gate we saw we were alone on our quest.
Rather than feeling disheartened we vowed to either find the Glacier Giant and slay him, or to conquer Jordheim and bring home its plunder to Camelot. Or die trying.
Nervously stepping past a pack of snow wolves that thankfully didn't take us for their dinner, we spotted some bandits on the road. Sneaking through the snow-bound forest past these, we made it to the Albion realm gate.
The cold stone walls were uninhabited, so we traversed beyond the threshold. Padding stealthily along the road the sound of an arrow rattling in my shield attracted our attention. A second failed to follow, however so we continued on warily.
Sharp-eyed Caen noticed some movement up ahead: 'Troll!' he yelled... a fearsome beast wielding a blade the height of a man was guarding the pass. With a grunt it started it's charge, swinging it's weapon in a deadly arc.
Boddington was first to fall, mortally wounded by a vicious blow to the stomach. An arrow in the back from the Kobold Archer that had been following us finished him off.
Caen valiantly fought the troll, defending with his shield as I beat against it's scaly hide with my daggers. All to no avail as it's methodical blows scythed through armour, flesh and bone.
Lying bleeding on the ground, watching my life flow away from me all I heard was the ugly sound of the beast laughing and murmuring some foulness in its dark tongue.
Fortunately the magic Master Visur used to send us to Midgard was powerful enough to bring what was left of us back to the healers in Camelot.
It is as I sit here recuperating that I write this note, and plot my vengeance.
Portaling through to the white wastes of Odin's Gate we saw we were alone on our quest.
Rather than feeling disheartened we vowed to either find the Glacier Giant and slay him, or to conquer Jordheim and bring home its plunder to Camelot. Or die trying.
Nervously stepping past a pack of snow wolves that thankfully didn't take us for their dinner, we spotted some bandits on the road. Sneaking through the snow-bound forest past these, we made it to the Albion realm gate.
The cold stone walls were uninhabited, so we traversed beyond the threshold. Padding stealthily along the road the sound of an arrow rattling in my shield attracted our attention. A second failed to follow, however so we continued on warily.
Sharp-eyed Caen noticed some movement up ahead: 'Troll!' he yelled... a fearsome beast wielding a blade the height of a man was guarding the pass. With a grunt it started it's charge, swinging it's weapon in a deadly arc.
Boddington was first to fall, mortally wounded by a vicious blow to the stomach. An arrow in the back from the Kobold Archer that had been following us finished him off.
Caen valiantly fought the troll, defending with his shield as I beat against it's scaly hide with my daggers. All to no avail as it's methodical blows scythed through armour, flesh and bone.
Lying bleeding on the ground, watching my life flow away from me all I heard was the ugly sound of the beast laughing and murmuring some foulness in its dark tongue.
Fortunately the magic Master Visur used to send us to Midgard was powerful enough to bring what was left of us back to the healers in Camelot.
It is as I sit here recuperating that I write this note, and plot my vengeance.
