T. H. Lain - The sundered arms

From the creators of

the greatest roleplaying game ever

come tales of heroes fighting

monsters with magic!

By T.H. Lain

The Savage Caves

The Living Dead

Oath of Nerull

City of Fire

The Bloody Eye

Treachery's Wake

Plague of Ice

The Sundered Arms

(July 2003)

Return of the Damned

(October 2003)

The Death Ray

(December 2003)

THE SUNDERED ARMS

2003 Wizards of the Coast, Inc.

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Distributed in the United States by Holtzbrinck Publishing. Distributed in Canada by Fenn Ltd.

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Cover art by Todd Lockwood and Sam Wood First Printing: July 2003 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2002114359

987654321

US isbn : 0-7869-2974-X UK isbn: 0-7869-2975-8

620-17972-001-EN

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BUNNY

Even hindered by his skirts, Devis quickly outran everyone.

"Wait until I get my hands on that half-elf," growled Tordek as he watched the bard vanish down the dark street. No matter how he pumped his thick dwarven legs, the predominantly human mob at his back drew ever closer. Their murderous shouts grew louder than the clanking of his plate armor, and he could almost feel the heat of their torches on the back of his neck.

With a stride even shorter than Tordek's, the halfling Lidda ran at his side. In her lightweight leathers, she could have easily left him behind, but she remained loyally at his side. Despite their peril, she could not suppress a grin as she shot back, "That's what got us into this mess in the first place, hero!"

"Let's...not...talk about it," panted Tordek. "And I told you... never to call...me that!"

If the townsfolk caught up to them, Tordek knew Devis would escape while he and Lidda suffered their full wrath.

After his own death, Devis's escape was the last thing Tordek wanted.

"You're the one who kissed"

A spear slammed into the road in front of Lidda. She threw herself to the side, tumbling deftly around the obstacle while barely breaking stride.

Tordek grunted his approval of her skilful maneuver without looking at her. Lidda beamed at the compliment, even as she, too, kept her eyes forward. She might have enjoyed the chase, but she knew as well as Tordek that they were running for their lives.

A hail of rocks fell around them, and one heavy cobblestone clanged off Tordek's pauldron. It struck close enough to his head that he wished he'd worn his helmet into the tavern rather than leaving it in his wagon.

"Which way did he go?" he yelled. There was no sign of the half-elf or his conspicuously bright orange dress.

"This way!" shouted Lidda, veering to run between the cooper's and the wainwright's shops.

Tordek followed, trusting his companion's sense of direction better than his own, at least above ground. The alley between the buildings was cluttered with empty barrels, stacks of timber, and wagon wheels. A thin corridor of moonlight drew a line from one end to the other. At the far end was an unpaved road leading away from Caravans Cross, toward the nearby farms. Dense woods loomed on either side, promising shelter from the eyes of the angry mob.

"Head for the trees!" called Lidda. "We can double back to the wagon once we're out of sight." She wasted no more breath but dashed ahead with a burst of speed. Just as she emerged from the alley, four big figures lunged at her from both sides.

Lidda shrieked in alarm and threw herself into a forward somersault. The men fell into a bone-crunching tangle of surprised shouts and flailing limbs as the nimble halfling rolled low and darted out from beneath their grasp. The men had missed their target, but as they sorted themselves out, the would-be ambushers ignored Lidda and turned to glower at the dwarf still trapped in the alley.

Torchlight spilled into the narrow passage between the buildings, and Tordek did not even have to look back to know that his pursuers blocked his escape. Their shouts subsided into the ominous mutters of a lynch mob that knew it had its quarry.

One of the burly men who stood between Tordek and the road yelped and clutched his head.

"You'll catch the next one in the gnarlies if you don't stand aside!" shouted Lidda. She held another stone high in warning.

Tordek knew the man might just as easily be dead if the halfling had used a sling to launch that missile. In his opinion, Lidda was far too kind to townsfolk and other dumb animals.

"Hurry, Tordek!"

"Always wear your helmet to town," Tordek muttered, as if intoning a universal wisdom that would one day be inscribed on the hearthstone of every dwarven home. He lowered his head and charged straight toward the men barring his way. One of them raised a rake, while another defended himself with a stout oak quarterstaff. The other two crouched and held out their arms as if to grab an escaping hog.

Tordek barreled into them head first, knocking two to the ground and sending a third tumbling high over his shoulders to hit the ground with a thump. The man with the rake was canny enough to step aside, but when he raised his implement to stab down at the dwarf's undefended back, he doubled over with a horrid, sobbing moan.

"I warned you," said Lidda, dusting off her hands.

"Stop gloating," warned Tordek, hastening past the dazed figures of his would-be captors. "They're almost upon us."

Without another word, they rushed across the road and toward the dark shelter of the woods, but it was too late. Two more clusters of torch-wielding townsfolk had already circled the buildings and closed in from either side. Tordek and Lidda could only put their backs to the woods and turn to face their doom together.

More than four dozen citizens of Caravans Cross converged on them. Those who didn't carry torches bore quarterstaves or pitchforks, and a few held swords or the long spears of the volunteer militia. All of them glowered at the outsiders, their eyes filled with greed and hatred. No one could mistake their intentions for their trapped quarry.