Chronicles of Cow Lance Volume 2

I had never been to the new Orc cave before, and I swear I shall not return. Deep in the bowels of that cave, you may still find my rotting remains, for there I died. And died. And died. Yes. Three times did I take the dirt nap, and three times did my lancemates tear my soul back from the afterlife and restore me to this world.

The day started out innocuously enough. Many of my guildmates were said to be gathering this day at Marrach Faol in preparation for a great hunt. I made myself ready and set out for the castle. Upon reaching it I found that a large group had already gathered.

I joined the crowd, and greeted those of the group that I am more familiar with. We were assigned to lances, and I had the fortune of being assigned to the Cow Lance for the second straight hunt! Leading the lance this day would be Lord Togran. Fostiter, Rougan (a candidate for membership), and myself rounded out the foursome.

Whilst we waited for the lances to be completed, Lord Togran outlined his plan for keeping organised during the hunt. He would be directing us with a complex set of instructions. If he wanted us to attack, he would Moo. If he wanted us to hold back, he would say Moo. If he wanted us to follow him, he would say Moo. “Moo”, he said, “means a lot of different things. But most of the time, Moo will mean stick together”. Wise words. There was one other command he would use. Moot, which means Loot. Not a man of many words, this Togran.

After some frantic searching, a mage was located and a gate was opened. We charged the gate, and assembled on it’s other side, waiting for the command to enter the cave.

As we were given the word, the Cow Lance spontaneously broke into the ritualistic moo ceremony (with no prompting from me, no less!), and we mooved out (a little cow humour there).

We entered the cave and immediately found some orcs willing to throw themselves on our blades. It was not until we entered the second level of the cave that we encountered any real resistance.

Orc Bombers, it seems, have very interesting tactics. Each time they are struck, they throw a deadly bomb. And when they die, they cause great damage to all around them.

Our strategy of everybody ganging up on the bomber did not work out well.

(dirt nap number one)

As I was about to remount my horse, she decided to attack an orc. The orc quickly got the best of her. She was always a little foolhardy, but she was a good mount. I try not to get too attached to my horses, as I end up mourning them more often than not, but it is difficult not to forge a bond with an animal one spends so much time with. I will indeed miss her.

It was decided to allow one person to fight the bomber while all others healed – that way, it would not do such great damage so quickly. That seemed to work fairly well. For the most part.

(dirt nap number two)

The next orc spawned just as I finished looting my corpse, and I was mad. I hope I’m allowed to say this on this web site.

Another orc bomber. Another view in shades of grey. *sigh*

(dirt nap number three)

We decided to leave the area. An orc bomber would spawn mere seconds after the last one had been put to rest, affording us no time to loot or prepare for the next round. Besides, Togran had received word that other lances were in dire need of assistance, and so we moved along.

As we progressed through the caves we found other lances in need of our aid, and came to the rescue of several lances in trouble.

The command was given to move out, and we slowly began to make for the entrance of the cave.

Before leaving the second level, we stopped to ensure that the other lances would make it out alright. Lord Togran was evidently very concerned for his fellow guildmates, and has earned a great amount of respect on my part for his actions.

Once we were sure that all lances had left the second level, we made our way to the entrance and set up camp to ensure the safe passage of the other lances.

We were instructed to move outside of the cave entrance, but as we did so, we were ambushed by an ettin, a troll, and a few orcs. We were prepared, however, and soon the ambushers were being routed.

As we waited for the other lances to appear, Togran recieved word that a lance was in trouble, so we rushed back into the cave to lend what assistance we could.

Unfortunately, we were too late. Some other lance had already gone and deprived us of our glorious rescue (don’t know who it was, but good job!)

After all the lances made it out, a final check was done to ensure that everybody made it out ok.

Back at the castle, I dropped two of the robes I collected this evening on the ground, and watched them decay. I began to feel better almost immediately.

A bunch of us head upstairs, ready to relax and unwind with a few beers and some tall tales (or in my case, some absolutely true ones), and we are dismayed to discover that BECK HAD DRUNK ALL THE BEER!

Fortunately, Rougan (a candidate and fellow lancemate) and Togran (the leader of Cow Lance this eve) were kind enough to do a beer run and fetch a whole lot of liquor. We all got drunk and had a wonderful time. At least.. I think it was wonderful. I don’t remember much.

Rougan was kind enough to replace my lost mount. I named her Juanita, after Gepetta’s sister. Er… perhaps I should mention that Juanita and Gepetta were two sisters I knew once… well, on second thought perhaps I’d better not go there. In any case, this was a truly generous action by Rougan, and I do appreciate it.

To my lancemates and leader, I thank thee for a wonderful evening of orc-slaying. ‘Tis a night I’m sure the orcs will not forget, for we dealt them a solid blow. Rougan, thank you for your gift of the Ostard, it is a princely gift. Togran, for your kind words I offer my gratitude, and for your able leadership I commend you. Fostiter. What can I say? You just kept ressurecting me, over and over. I owe you, brother.

Health to our enemy’s enemies!

– Torwyn Vaar, White Stag Knight and Dirt Napper Extraordinaire

Moo.