Amanita (Chapter 30)
Template:Amanita nav It was as cold as a razor blade outside Harrogath's gate. Short sections of fence, tastefully bedecked with human skulls and clan totems, stood around the gate. They gradually opened out as I moved away from the walls, obviously meant to force anybody attacking the gate to bunch up so the defenders would have an easy time mowing 'em down. Pity the attackers weren't falling for it. The area in front of the gate was uncontested. I saw exactly one dead demon, which could been dragged there. All the action was downhill, on a bunch of hills that were probably the only way in or out or Harrogath. I guess they never expected the demons to just block them in when they built this place.
The demon, by the way, was an earth demon called a Death Mauler. The name is nastier than the demon, but they're tough and hard to hurt physically, probably why Baal sent them here. As I moved out, I met the other demon he was using, a kind I didn't know at all. They were humanoid, maybe 4 feet tall and stocky, and had thick skin with bony plates that could probably turn the Barbs' axes pretty well. All of them were naked, and obviously male. Don't know what Baal was thinking with that. In combat, they used ordinary weapons and shields. I think their arms are too short to draw a bow, even if the shoulder plates didn't get in the way, so I had no worries about seeing archers.
A few Barbarian warriors had come out to try and break the siege. The demons didn't charge up to meet them -- they hung back and waited for the Barb to charge in, then surrounded him. Simple, but it worked on the Barbs. A good martial artist could really make hay of that tactic, but these guys just didn't have the skill set to take on groups. I didn't either, but I have other ways. Getting the demons to fight each other was harder than usual: they were motivated by fear, not hate or anger. I had to make them more afraid of me than Baal to get them on my side, and that took serious effort.
As I moved down the hill, it was pretty obvious that the good guys were losing badly. The demons outnumbered them at least 10 to 1. Trenches, fences, and barriers covered the hill, but with so many troops, that actually worked more for the demons. Every now and then, a pot of explosives or a bundle of heavy darts came raining down from an empty sky. If Baal had invisible flying archers, we were all in trouble. Random death from above is too much for anybody. Of course, going out in nothing but a horned helmet and a kilt wasn't such a hot idea either. Viz-Jaq'taar have never gone into open battle, but I think even the martial artists would want a little more than a strip of cloth and a smile.
It's always a good idea to work with the locals, so I did my best to keep some of them alive. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. My techniques don't work that fast. They weren't too grateful, but they probably didn't know I was doing much. My techniques aren't that obvious, either. They have no way of knowing why one demon suddenly turned on another, or that my bolts pack more of a wallop than a dozen axe blows, and I'm not about to tell them. Letting them think they can claim my loot is annoying.
In Harrogath, I met Cain by the well in the main square. He seems to like hanging around wells and fountains. Maybe old age makes you thirsty. Anyway, the locals hadn't killed him yet, so he could give me his impressions of Harrogath and its charming denizens. Qual-Kehk looks like a powerful, capable war leader to him, exactly who you'd want to defend your city. I didn't share my opinion. Larzuk scares him. That didn't surprise me, even he'd never seen someone that big before.
Cain's opinion of Nihlathak is interesting. He feels Nihlathak "speaks with a venomous tongue and acts as if the entire weight of the world rests upon his shoulders." If that's a fancy way of saying he's a sneery, arrogant prick, I agree. Ok, maybe he feels bad about outliving his friends, then spending a siege standing around being useless. He might even be trying to think of a way to save the world.
I'll talk to Nihlathak about saving the world later. First, Cain said he met the town healer, a woman named Malah. From what I've heard of Barbarians, I'd have thought they'd tough it out like real men. Then again, they're not supposed to cast spells either. Malah's hospital was against the eastern wall. A dozen big brutes were laid out inside and outside, bandaged like mummies and a lot quieter. They looked depressed, except for the guy missing his right arm, who looked drugged. Malah was an old woman, slow-moving and bent. Her face was gray and puffy. Under a dirty scarf with burned ends, her weedy hair was that color that is neither brown or blonde, too tired to be red but not clean enough to be gray. Everything she did screamed exhaustion, but she kept doing it. She didn't see me in the door, maybe her eyes weren't so good. I dropped a bunch of healing potions I'd collected and left. When I've done what needs to be done, I'll talk to her. Besides, I hate hospitals.
Cain also told me about something the Barbarians told him. Just for Harrogath, Baal invented something new: catapults. Made of demon flesh and steel rods, they're basically an arm, two sharp eyes, and just enough brains to make them work together. All they do is look in front of them, find a target, and throw. Baal's equipped them with some nasty payloads: the Barbs have reported what sound like grenades, javelins, shock webs, fire pots, gas pots, and ice balls. Our trapsters wish they had that many tricks -- chilling bombs would be incredibly handy. Catapults can hit you from a long way, I've found, but once you get within 20 yards, you're safe, and they're easy to kill from up close.
Another problem with the high life among the hill people is that they don't know a damn thing about crossbows. They know about bows, they use them for hunting. Putting a strong bow on a stock and taking it into battle bewilders the heck out of Larzuk. He just can't see why. He also doesn't know how to make bolts, and I'm not finding any among Baal's troops.
The demon's camp was at the bottom of the hills. I counted four fire pits with roasting warriors. There were plenty of rabbits, white fluffy ones, but the demons weren't interested in them. After dumping snow on the cook fires, I used my last bolt on one of the humanoid demons and dragged out the katar. Sapphires probably wouldn't work so well around here, these guys didn't seem to care much about cold, but there's not much I can do until Larzuk makes copies of the bolt I left him.
Past the camp, in a narrow section, the terrain started to climb. Some Barbs had joined me by now. The katar seemed to interest them a little, a lot more than the bow did. In the narrows, we found exactly the kind of demon I don't want to fight hand to hand: Familiars. They're tiny demons made to look like wizards, subtle flattery for the sorcerers they palled around with in the old days. Even a crowd of them isn't likely to kill you, but they'll teleport if you look at them funny, so killing them is a huge pain in the ass. Stunning them tired me out good. Still made me wish I could use the bow.
Further uphill, the hills widened out again. Attacking upslope is a lot harder, I'll bet none of these guys had ever made it past this. Back in Harrogath, Larzuk was still working on the bolts. He did have an idea for a crossbow-based trap: rig one up on a tree next to a deer path, with a string to pull the trigger when the deer goes past. He must be getting really hungry. Once he's made bolts, I'll get him a couple of rabbits.
The sun sets slowly this far north. It was almost dark when I found Shenk. He was a huge fat bastard, like a Toad Demon but far less lithe, graceful, and attractive. While he waved a whip, a wall of lesser demons surrounded him, waiting for me to come closer. I went to work convincing a few that their swords were better than his whip, and why were they taking that kind of abuse anyway? They bowed to reason, and promptly turned on him. One who looked like he had a serious glandular problem actually exploded, spraying his own overworked brains all over his former master. It was beautiful.
Pretty soon, Shenk was alone and bleeding from dozens of wounds. It only took a little encouragement to turn every one of his troops against him. I went up on his little platform and finished him off. The bastard was pathetic without anything to hide behind. He even had a patch of summoned lava to keep his fat ass warm, and furry slippers for his almost non-existent feet. What a freak.