T Lain: Plague of Ice

“Here is our meal,” she said.

The others looked at her with open-mouthed shock. “Why did you do that?” asked Regdar.

“Weren’t you hungry?” she asked. No one said anything more about it.

Some time later, the party came across tracks for the first time. These were not human tracks but something larger. Lidda inspected them closely.

“Gnolls?” she asked.

Sonja nodded gravely.

“We knew humanoid tribes lived in this area,” said Regdar. “We can’t expect them to be huddling in a cave somewhere. Gnolls are strong and don’t care much about the cold.”

“Their life has been disrupted,” added Sonja. “They’ll be on the ready, too, and rightly so.”

“Great!” Hennet rubbed his brow. “This snow stirs up the gnolls, and they’ll blame the first outsiders they see.”

“And these footprints are fresh,” Lidda said, watching the snowflakes fall. “Old tracks wouldn’t last long under these conditions.”

The travelers immediately silenced themselves and surveyed their surroundings. Dimly in the snow they could make out two large, brown-black forms moving quickly. One moved silently toward them, a battle-axe in its hands, but the other was running away. There could be only one reason such a sturdy and warlike humanoid would flee from a fight.

“It’ll warn their tribe!” yelled Regdar. He strung his longbow with stiff fingers as Lidda pulled out her crossbow and cocked it. Both fired at nearly the same time, but aiming was difficult through the snowy haze. Hennet readied a magic missile. A tiny bolt of magic blasted from his palm, bathing the plain in a sickly, green glow for a few thrilling moments. It flew unerringly to its target and struck the gnoll in the leg, toppling it to the ground. By then, the other one was lost in the snow and haze.

“That’s all we need,” Hennet cursed as they rushed to the fallen gnoll. “Now we can expect a gnoll tribe down on our heads.”

The stricken gnoll wasn’t dead. It lay sprawled out on the ice with its axe inches beyond its desperately groping fingers. Regdar shoved the weapon away with his toe. The gnoll spat at them and swore in its native language until Regdar kicked its wounded leg. That brought a yip to its canine jaws, but the next time it spoke, it used uncertain Common.

“It was yoouuu!” The gnoll gasped. “You destroyed our homes, killed our young!”

“Your home,” said Sonja. Even for this beast the concern in her voice was genuine. “Where was your home?”

“The wood! Our forest is no more. This plague of ice has destroyed it. We flee, but your ice is too fast. We die! You kill us!”

“We didn’t destroy your homes,” said Regdar. “We’re here to stop this ice.”

“Lies! Lies!” the gnoll howled. It lunged for Lidda’s throat, no doubt deciding the halfling would be the easiest to kill before the larger humans could slay it. It was wrong, as Lidda proved with a quick jab of her sword. The creature fell back into the snow and lay still.

A deep-toned, throaty horn sounded in the distance. Sonja readied her club.

“They won’t listen to reason,” the druid said. “I recommend you put away your bows. Under these conditions, they will be on us before we know it. We have an advantage, though. There’s still a lot of glare coming off the snow. Gnolls dislike bright light. It hurts their eyes and impairs their fighting ability.”

Little more than a minute passed before the gnolls came into view. Their tall, brown forms were silhouetted against the whiteness of the background. Eight or nine of them emerged from the swirling snow. Their hyenalike heads towered far above the humans. They fanned out quickly so that their foes were surrounded inside a widely spaced ring. They were armed with a hodgepodge of weapons, and some of them wore mismatched pieces of armor. One, swinging a flail, wore a coal-black breastplate emblazoned with the emblem of the god Erythnul. The breastplate was human-sized and too small for a gnoll; undoubtedly it was a trophy. This gnoll was slightly smaller than the others and kept behind them as the ring closed in on the party.

As the gnolls drew nearly within striking range, Lidda rushed forward, bobbing between their legs to confound their attempts to attack her with their axes. Wherever she passed, she slashed at the gnolls’ shins and knees. Her hit-and-run attacks so angered her victims that three of them broke ranks and chased after her. By doing so, they exposed their flanks. The advantage was momentary, but Regdar, an experienced warrior who’d fought alongside Lidda before, was ready for it. The instant the first gnoll turned, the armored human lunged forward. The gleaming tip of his greatsword was just as deadly as the edge, and a straight thrust through the creature’s ribs slew it on its feet. A second gnoll was sliced down before the others realized what was happening. Yips and howls filled the air as the monsters reacted and warned each other of the fast-moving danger. The encircling gnolls leaped back several steps, widening the gaps between them, and ignored Lidda. Their attention was now riveted on the fur-wrapped man with the steaming, red-stained sword.

Hennet held back for a moment, both to ready his spells and because he wasn’t sure what the big man would do next.

Sonja slipped farther from Hennet. She knew that gnolls preferred to fight enemies who were separated from help, and she hoped that her move might lure a gnoll to closer range. It did. She tried to keep herself looking small and held her weapon uncertainly, like a frightened animal. Sensing an easy target, the gnoll rushed her, straight into the trap Sonja had laid for it. The ground beneath it was slick with magical ice, and the gnoll’s feet slid out from underneath it. When it tumbled onto its back, its armor snapped under its weight with a sharp crack. Sonja jumped forward onto the momentarily stunned gnoll. She smashed her cudgel onto its skull with surprising force and instantly prepared to deliver a second blow, but when she pulled back the weapon she saw that the creature was already dead.

The gnolls were bloodied but not defeated. The survivors circled and regrouped and forced Regdar, Hennet, and Sonja again into the center of a circle, smaller than the first. Lidda bobbed around the outside, sneaking in with her short sword to nick their flanks and keep them distracted, then skittering away whenever one turned to attack her. The smaller gnoll with the breastplate still held back from the action, and Lidda suddenly realized why. The emblem of Erythnul on its armor was not just for show.

“It’s casting!” Lidda yelled. She pulled out her crossbow, desperate to distract the gnoll before it could complete its spell. She was too late, and worse, she was the spell’s target. Lidda found herself paralyzed, her limbs locked in place like a statue’s. She could breathe and move her eyes but couldn’t move or run—or speak. She watched as the gnoll priest closed in on her, its flail waving high above its head. Her mouth was locked open in a silent scream.

“Protect Lidda!” Hennet shouted. He rushed toward her and launched a magic missile at the gnoll priest. It impacted against the breastplate but seemed to do no real damage. The energy was dissipated by the apparently magical piece of armor. The priest responded by turning to Hennet and mumbling another spell. A new weapon suddenly appeared in its outstretched hand, a morning star with a solid head made of stone.

The corner of the gnoll priest’s snout rose in something like a smile as the morning star flew from its hand toward Hennet and soundly whacked the sorcerer on his shoulder. The blow took Hennet by surprise and knocked him off balance. Then the morning star struck again, moving like a blur. It caught Hennet along his side, knocking him to the snowy ground. As Hennet fumbled for his spear or spells, the magical morning star pummeled him ruthlessly. He rolled onto his back with his short spear in his hands and tried to defend himself, but the flying weapon was virtually impossible to parry as it swooped from side to side.