Keep on the Borderlands (Greyhawk Classics)
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Greyhawk novels are based on the classic D&D modules from this world and provide readers with the same kind of feeling that they get playing classic D&D modules.
men who attacked us this morning were organized, but I wouldn’t call them well trained,” Blorys pointed out. Jerdren shook his head. “From what Mebros said, I don’t think they were part of this local band. He says they wear a patch or badge of some kind—a bit of dark green on one sleeve. Our bunch might have been a raiding party moving through the area, or maybe men looking to join up with the local band.” He waved that aside. “Mebros says it’s near certain there’s at least one camp close by,
of the spearmen, strung his bow, and fished out one of his arrows with a thickness just behind the point. He held that in the fire until it caught, took careful aim, and fired, just as sparks exploded upward from Mead’s outstretched hands. The arrow just missed the cat, but Mead’s spell didn’t. Eddis smelled burned hair. The cat screamed, half-spun on its branch, and leaped for the ground. It was a long blur of gold and black, flying across the clearing, then it was gone. They heard it squalling,
and avoided the swordswoman’s touch whenever she could. Thank the gods I have M’Baddah with me, she thought. The man had an instinct for communicating with shy, mistreated beasts of any kind, and on that count, Blot certainly qualified. At M’Baddah’s suggestion, he and she had heated water the morning after the surprise raid and did their best to clean the child. Blot objected, frightened of the mere idea, until M’Baddah convinced her that bathing was part of the funeral ritual for her friend.
leered at the youth only paces away, revealing brownish, ugly teeth. Kadymus’ sword fell from his hands, and he staggered back into the nearest wall. Jerdren darted into the open, grabbed him, and dragged the youth back into the passage. “Gods,” Blorys said reverently. “It’s an ogre! Willow,” he added urgently, “you and Mead, back, out of sight!” “It knows we are here,” Willow replied calmly, though he’d gone pale. “It can smell us, but I will not run from it.” “Now what?” Eddis asked. Her
eyes went wide. “You’re no lad!” “Bright man,” Eddis replied steadily. “Except you’ve picked the wrong place to rob people.” “Would be,” the man with the crossbow said, “if we planned on taking our time.” He stepped forward, eyes shifting to the priest. “We won’t. You—priest. Just hand over that box and your pouch, and we’ll be gone.” The priest eyed him coldly. “Or we’ll kill you all and take it anyway.” The bandit gasped in pain, one of M’Whan’s hidden daggers deep in his forearm. The