The Horn of Hurricane

The Horn of the Hurricane! A magical artifact from the time of the druids. Who knew that it held so much power? As I, Rufus, gazed at it, my mind wandered back to the day when the Bilgewater Brigade had recovered it.

It was in the early days of the Wardens. A horde of goblins had been plaguing the settlements of Ember Shoals with a series of raids. The people of Lander's Edge formed the Bilgewater Brigade, a militia force, to stem the raiders. Their efforts had largely been successful and the raids diminished.

Then one day I received an urgent message from the Brigade. A vast army of goblins, let by a vicious troll known as Kragcrush were making their way through the hills heading for the capital. I mustered the Wardens and rode to join the Brigade. The forces of Ember Shoals found a defensible position at a bridge which crossed a lava vent. The narrow crossing prevented the monster horde from outflanking and destroying the Brigade.

Kragcrush yelled the command and his horde rushed forward. The Bilgewater Brigade met the goblins on the bridge. Like a scythe, the whirling brigades of the heroes cut down the goblins like wheat. The brigade stood firm and the wave of goblins broke upon the solid defenses. They began streaming back across the bridge.

Then Kragcrush entered the fray.

He was a massive, monstrous beast with a foul temper. As the goblins tried to retreat past him, he swung his massive hammer, smashing the cowardly creatures. The rest got the message; they turned back to the attack, with Kragcrush in the lead.

He slammed into the wall of defenders, smashing a hole in their defenses. Arrows, spears, and swords pierced his leathery skin but Kragcrush shrugged off his wounds and continued to fight. Despite their desperate fight, the Bilgewater Brigade was slowly pushed back. If the monsters could cross the bridge, they would outflank the defenders and win the day.

But the leaders of the Brigade refused to concede defeat. Huntario, Kristophe, Scaeatha, Shroudstar and the Wardens steeled their resolved and redoubled their efforts. They sliced through the horde of goblins and pressed in against Kragcrush. Even the troll could not withstand their whirlwind of steel. Finally, a fatal blow was struck. Kragcrush teetered and then fell of the bridge, into the lava below.

With Kragcrush's death, the monster army routed from the field. The Brigade pressed the pursuit, scattering the evil horde. As the heroes searched the monster army's camp, they discovered chests filled with plunder from Ember Shoals. But the greatest treasure was a simple, battered horn. Lost for years, this relic was the Horn of Hurricane. The brigade decided that the horn should go to the most heroic of the defenders, but many claimed that honor. After some squabbling, the horn was rewarded to Huntario the monk, or so we thought. Apparently, Commodore Kettlebaun had other ideas.

I smiled at the thought of my unlikely friend. If it weren't for his, shall we say, collector's mentality, then the Horn likely would have been lost forever. Now it, the only hope for Ember Shoals, was in my hands.