The attempt to bring the skeletons to life failed again.
Clearly, some component of the spell is missing. An additional
Thread perhaps? A special preparation of the bones? A gesture not
mentioned in this tome?
Maybe it is just the tension and excitement. Tomorrow I will
volunteer to go outside. We spent too long in this grave. The
Scourge must be over by now. We can't be sure, as both the device
for measuring the level of magic and for keeping track of the
time outside were destroyed in the fight for our Kaer at the
beginning of the Scourge.
And if not, if the Horrors still roam the world outside, what
better way to study them and their ways. I'd rather die being
torn apart by a Horror's claws or powers than starve to death in
this prison. Food is scarce, a few people less will only benefit
the rest.
Tonight, the people of Kaer Sky's Edge will meet and discuss
the matter of venturing outside. I will volunteer, and I'm sure
there will be others who are equally eager to see the world for
the first time in their lives.
I am prepared. All my possessions which I can't take with me will
be taken by my mentor, Talsferdin if I should not return. Nobody
else would take them anyway.
The meeting is over. It was decided that a group of volunteers
will venture outside and explore the vicinity. They will seal the
Kaer behind us, but two Obsidimen are going to stand watch
outside and let us in when we come back.
The group includes Ashengar Blackmane, an Ork Liberator, Erik, a
Human Swordmaster, B'ok, a T'skrang Weaponsmith and Zembeck, one
of those flying nuisances who can't keep their hands out of other
people's pockets. I must remember to keep my Pocket Guardian
active at all times.
One final cup of tea with my trusty servant and I'll spent my
last night in this forsaken prison.
The big day. We left early in the morning, at least at the
time we came to know as morning. After disarming the traps in the
corridor leading to the unused upper level of the Kaer which
hadn't be used since the breach a long time ago, we finally stood
before the sealed gate amidst the skeletons and mummified bodies
of those who died in defense against the Rah'chas. What knowledge
could be gained from these bodies, but unfortunately there was no
time to study them. The two Obsidiman guards broke the seals and
opened the gates. A gloomy corridor lay in front of us. The
guards resealed the gates behind them and stood there, waiting.
After opening the outer doors at the end of the corridor, we
stood in a big cave, bright daylight streaming in from the
outside. In one corner of the cave there was a curious nest of
some sort. What creature could possibly build something like
that. We would know soon enough.
Walking outside, we saw the real world for the first time in our
lives. And it seemed to be all right. Green trees stood around us
and along the mountainside. A look in the astral plane revealed
nothing, no sign of horrors to be seen, only a slight taint.
Suddenly, two goats dropped from the sky. Looking up, I saw a
creature which I've never seen in books or mentioned by someone
else. On its huge body it had the wings of a bat in the right
size to support it and it had three heads, one of a goat, one of
a snake and one of a lion. We could just about ready ourselves
for combat, when the beast was already upon us. I only saw the
sharp teeth of the lion's head coming towards me, wanted to
release a spell but the pain of the bite thwarted my
concentration. Weak and dizzy, blood streaming down my face I
staggered back into the cave. I was on the verge of losing
consciousness. Fortunately, I was able to reach the magic healing
potion I had in my pack. Feeling better, I prepared myself for
another fight but the others had already taken care of the
monster. Blackmane was dealing one crushing blow after the other
with his huge hammer and Erik helped him as well as he could.
When the beast finally was down, Blackmane and Erik had sustained
only a few scratches, but B'ok was lying on the ground, bleeding
heavily. A swig from my Potion of Life offered some relief, but
she was still quite weak.
The rest of the day passed without major events. We went down
the mountainside towards the river way below us.
At night, we camped on a ledge. We noticed a strange, blinking
light from a mountainside further away. Are people living there,
or is it something else? We decided to investigate the light the
following day.
During my watch, I noticed shapes wandering around our camp. I
stoked up the fire a bit. The shapes approached nevertheless. As
they came carefully closer they looked like large wolves I had
seen in books. I was prepared to wake the others and cast a spell
immediately if need be but the animals didn't seem to threaten
us. I woke B'ok, because one of the strange wolves came
dangerously close to her. However, as we didn't attack them or
pose any threat to them, they seemed to lose interest after a
while and left.
The strange light was still blinking in the distance, so we
went on our way to investigate it. If there were indeed people
living there, they should be able to tell us if the Scourge was
over.
During the trip, we couldn't get rid of the feeling of being
followed. Sounds sometimes in front of us, sometimes behind,
sometimes to left or the right. However, we never saw anybody or
anything.
In the afternoon we encountered a rock pillar with a group of big
lizards with strange looking eyes basking in the sun. Nobody knew
what they were and because we wanted to reach the blinking light
before dusk, we didn't investigate.
Finally, we reached the source of the light. It was a tower,
several storeys high. Clearly, somebody was living there, so B'ok
knocked on the door. A window opened and a Dwarf leaned out,
asking what we wanted. A Dwarf! That meant, Name-givers were
living here. When we asked him if the Scourge was over, he
laughed at us and told us, it had been over for over 80 years. 80
years!
After proving to each other that neither of us was Horror-marked
he let us in, offered food and drink and gave us an account of
what had happened in the last 80 years. The Scourge was indeed
over but many parts of the land have changed and also the
political situation. The Therans no longer ruled this part of the
world, the peoples of Barsaive were their own masters again.
We learned that the dwarf's Name was Nevkin Brule and that he was
the keeper of this lighthouse. It is a beacon to warn airships on
their way to Bartertown and the Kingdom of Throal of the steep
mountains ahead.
After some discussion, we agreed that he would try to flag down
the next airship and tell them that we were here. In the
meantime, we would go back to our Kaer and tell our people the
good news.
Here we are again. In front of the lighthouse, the people of
Kaer Sky's Edge camped. Only a few of the oldest people who
didn't want to leave their home stayed behind. All the others
came back with us.
We learned that we couldn't go back where our town once stood at
the shores of a tributary to the Serpent River. Nothing is left
there, only rubble. And nobody visits this area of the Tylon
Mountains anymore to conduct trade which was the main income of
our people before the Scourge.
After some discussion it was decided that we would travel in a
large trek to Bartertown and seek a place to live in the Kingdom
of Throal who still offered land for free to people emerging from
their kaers. Nevkin Brule agreed to be our guide.
He we are now, in our crowded camp, ready to leave the mountains
tomorrow to seek a new live in the Kingdom of Throal ...
After over a month's travel we finally saw the huge gates of
Throal in the distance.
We reached the outskirts of Bartertown in the evening. Many
people camped outside the city, so it was decided to do so as
well.
We just had set up our camp when we were approached by two
riders, a Troll on a huge horse and a Dwarf on a Troajin. They
claimed the place where we were camped as their rightful property
for next weeks. The Troll produced a document which proved his
claims. They were members of a trade caravan, "The Northern
Wind Trading Company" which was to arrive any minute now.
After some arguing we had to give in.
So Zembeck, Erik, B'ok, Blackmane and myself went into Bartertown
to find the Landoffice. There we paid a huge amount of silver,
almost all our Kaer's wealth for a place to camp outside
Bartertown.
In the evening, we strolled again into Bartertown to find a
tavern called the "Canvas Bat". There we met the Troll
from the trading company who Blackmane challenged to a fistfight.
As was to be expected, the Troll won, however not without taking
a few hard blows. He seemed to be so happy about that that he
paid the rounds for the rest of the evening. I didn't complain,
Blackmane wouldn't have been able to ...
One week later.
The people of Kaer Sky's Edge settled into the camp and went by
their business. B'ok offered her services as a Weaponsmith to the
trading company who employed her for a week, others were doing
similar jobs. I spent most of my time researching in the
magnificent Great Library of Throal, bringing myself up to date.
I was able to sell our story to the library which provided us
with some urgently needed cash.
Meanwhile, the Chieftain and the War Leader of our Kaer had
gained an audience with King Varulus III. The King had offered
them a deal.
As it was pretty complicated to incorporate a whole Kaer (over
450 people) as citizens, we were offered the mining village of
Smelter in the Throal Mountains. But no deal with a King without
a catch:
The village and the mine had been abandoned a little over a month
ago when the Invae, strange insectoid creatures had
invaded it. If we managed to get rid of the Invae, we would be
given the village and the mine for free, given that we have our
people trained in the craft of mining, and sell the ore gained
from the mine to the Kingdom. That sounded reasonable and an
interesting opportunity to study the Invae.
Scouting parties were set up who were to explore the village, the
mine and the surroundings. Our group with Nevkin Brule, our guide
to Throal would explore the mine.
We were now on our way to Smelter. Around noon we noticed a
group of riders who were watching us.
During the night we were attacked by a large group of Ork
scorchers. I was one of the sentries set up inside our camp, when
I heard screams and combat noises from the North. Quickly, I woke
the rest of our group, about 40 people, the adepts and others who
formed the exploration party. Blackmane and B'ok hurried to the
north, Erik and myself stayed behind to guard the south. Indeed,
the scorchers charged us from that direction on their fierce
thundra beasts, and a hot battle insued.
We managed to defeat the attackers, although quite a few of our
people were injured in the battle. The captured scorchers told us
that they were part of the Skull Wharg group roaming this part of
the Throal Mountains who claimed this area as their own and took
every opportunity to bring harm to Throal.
Then, our good friend Blackmane had an idea. He wanted to ride
one of the captured thundra beasts. Naturally, he failed
miserably, only the skills of a beastmaster prevented him from
being trampled to death. Orks!
During the day we met Baroness Uzarg, the ruler of this area.
The Chieftain and the War Leader had a long conversation with
her. She wished us good luck on our quest and regretted that she
couldn't help us any more. ...
Finally we reached the village of Smelter. Everything seemed
still intact, the entrance to the mine was looming on the
mountainside.I sent a Blood Servitor to investigate and found
nothing, except for deserted houses and an equally deserted mine,
at least as far as I wanted to go.
The groups were split up and ours went to explore the mine. The
entrance chamber was deserted but all the equipment was still
there and intact. So we descended down the main shaft, follwing
the cart track. Then we reached another chamber, from which
several tunnels spread out in all directions. Erik heard a noise
from a tunnel, it sounded like a child wimpering. Blackmane,
Erik, Zembeck and myself made our way into the dark tunnel. Only
now and then was a light crystal in the wall. Nevkin and B'ok
stayed behind. As we came closer, we could make out two figures,
a bigger one hugging a smaller one. Suddenly and quick as
lightning, the bigger one got up and attacked Blackmane. It
looked like a female Ork, but it had insectoid features like
mandibles instead of a mouth. We had found the Invae!
We managed to defeat the Ork/Invae and also the child which had
also changed to an insectoid creature. Just about then we heard
clanging of metal from the main chamber and hurried back. There,
B'ok and Nevkin were fighting a huge ant on two legs.
Just before Blackmane's mighty hammer connected with the Invae,
B'ok cut the beast in half with her two-handed sword.
Before we continued to investigate, I sent a grave message to
Talsferdin, my mentor. I told him, we found Invae in the mines,
would investigate a little further and when we found where they
were hiding returned to get the others.
Nevkin had found the ant's tracks and we followed them down a
tunnel. We also noticed a chanting that came from the same
direction, quiet first but louder as we moved further. After a
while the tunnel widened to form a chamber which was filled with
combweblike things and cocoons of some sort. There was also
another ant, which we defeated quickly.
The tracks continued down another, smaller tunnel which was
completely dark. We followed it and came to an opening. In front
of and below us was a huge cave. On an altar-like structure lay a
bound female elf, covered in strange symbols painted on her naked
body. In front of the altar stood a dwarf in richly embroidered
robe, the source of the chanting. Behind the dwarf stood a
creature taller than a Troll, which seemed to be made of clay. In
the walls of the cave stood or hung more of the insectoid
creatures ....
Surrounded in darkness, I crouched. The air was stale and carried a foul stench. The chanting was loud and distracting. I crouched in a tunnel mouth to a large chamber, with my companions, horrified at the nightmarish scene. We all stood shocked for an instant. The rough cavern was dominated by the sacrifice about to take place. On a wooden table in the centre of the cavern, was a restrained attractive female Elf covered in painted symbols of foul magic. Standing behind the wooden table stood a Dwarf facing our way, arms raised like he was reaching for the sky. The male Dwarf wore thick elaborate embroidered robes and stood in a trance. Standing behind the Dwarf was a huge figure of clay, humanoid in shape, but standing much larger than a troll. Clinging to the rough walls of the chamber were many ant Invae and hybrid name-givers chanting along with the Dwarf. I shuddered, we all shuddered, at the horror of the perverted name-givers and a rage began to build in my gut. The T'Skrang Weaponsmith, Bok, turned to me and asked if we fight.
I glared at the unseeing Dwarf for what seemed like a lifetime and penetrated his mind and learned that I faced a slaver. Without conscious thought I began to enter the cavern despite my wounded shoulder and many bruises, such was my rage but I stopped myself and gripped Ball Breaker. The others were cautious and Borgon had no wish to enter. I burned and the rage boiled in my gut. Borgon sent a message to his mentor and we were to attack. In the chamber, above the chanting Dwarf, a luminescent form of a queen ant began to take shape. Quickly I gulped down my healing Potion and felt much stronger. I rolled into the chamber followed my Eryk, Zembek, and Nevkin, as I rolled the mountainous clay figure moved and several different things occurred.
The clay figure rose out of the ground forty feet from the tunnel mouth and the very stone around the sacrifice dropped creating a wide chasm between us and the Dwarf. I walked towards the figure of clay and began to concentrate to summon my mind armour. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Eryk manoeuvre with a dancers grace into a flanking position. Then suddenly the clay figure was holding a stone spear which he hurled at Eryk but missed as Eryk gracefully sprung away from the huge missile. The very ground beneath my feet began to shake, rocking me and causing me to lose my concentration and mind armour. The chanting continued with the evil slaver scum unaware of our presence. This, however, changed very quickly.
As the huge clay figure looked down at me and hurled a huge stone spear that I was able to dodge, Zembek struck the sacrificing slaver scum from behind and knocked him to the ground. The chanting ceased immediately with a wail of pain, rage and anguish and the Ant Queen vanished. From behind I heard a scream of pain from Nevkin, just before a mighty fist connected with my shoulder spinning me around. I ground my teeth in anger and pain as I lost the protective armour I was forming from my mind. From behind the clay mountain, I saw Eryk gracefully spin from a flanking position to a rear position and land a solid blow with his spear. This blow was quickly followed by a mighty swing from Bok, who just seemed to appear like magic. The clay figure roared and looked down at us. It's intent to squash us was clearly written on its face.
Before the elemental could strike, Zembek flew past it striking it in the head and a huge chunk of clay fell to the floor. It roared in anger and struck Zembek with both fists. Zembek was swotted like a fly by the clay figure and fell to the floor. I, Eryk and Bok, all landed strong blows on the elemental and it was heavily wounded. Before we could strike any other blows it sank into the cavern floor and was gone. I quickly glanced around the cavern, all the Invae and hybrid name givers were twitching and thrashing about on the floor. The evil slaver was facing Borgon and created a glowing bolas of ice which he flung towards Borgon.
Without hesitation I ran towards the slaver and leapt across the gaping chasm, raising Ball Breaker to strike. How my blood sang as I leaped towards the slaver. I cleared the chasm and struck the slaver as I landed. Unfortunately it was only a glancing blow. I spun on my heel and struck the slaver a mighty blow that staggered him towards the edge of the chasm. He gave me a look of pure unadulterated hatred. Then he walked off the edge to my utter amazement and he fell. I did not see or hear him land, so deep was the chasm. Later I learned that Borgon had successfully cast a spell on him and took control of this limbs.
My look of astonishment vanished as a voice from behind called for my help. The striking female Elf was manacled to the table. Quickly I began to pull at the huge pins holding the bonds together. As I pulled at the pins, a dazed Zembek flew over and began to help with the other bonds. It was not long before the Elf was free. I picked up the huge sacrificial table and flung it across the chasm and used it as a bridge to get across. We all then fled from the cavern. Many of the Invae were beginning to stir and regain control of their bodies. It was a race to the surface.
We were lucky, the pursuit of the Invae was stopped by a rock fall in the tunnel. We met the other scouts in the larvae chamber. We continued to the surface as the others began the horrendous task of destroying the perverted name givers in the cocoons. Without incident we made it to the top and breathed the fresh air again. My shoulder throbbed and I was light headed from blood loss, nevertheless I had never felt so alive. I was a Liberator and I with the others had slain a slaver and rescued a prisoner. I was proud, I had fought for the Kaer to provide a home. My thoughts of victory vanished as I looked at the Elf, who clutched my worn cloak for warmth, she looked to be in a sorry state. We began the trek to our camp, to tell the others of our deeds.
The next two days passed slowly. As we rested and healed, the other adepts of the Kaer fought a battle with the remaining Invae and hybrids. The Kaer fought well and only a couple of adepts were killed. The Kaer had found its home. A few days later we began the trek back to barter town but did not have any interference from Ork Scorcher raiders. I think they must of learnt their lesson. Back in barter town we all went our separate ways for a few days. I helped at the camp and spent some time at the Juggling Shadowmant. After about a week we made contact with a silk merchant called Shaboya. He hired us to take some messages to his home village and the pay was handsome indeed. That night we celebrated at the Canvas Bat, the ale flowed like water and we were having a good time, when a group of armed adventurers came in and asked for Bok. Bok looked at them and announced her presence. The leader was an Elf in crystal plate armour and offered Bok one hundred thousand pieces of silver for her sword that originally belonged to the leader of the original Company of Light. It is a mighty weapon. I did not know if she would accept the offer, whatever she decided I pledged to support her as she is a fine companion and worthy fighter. I did wonder if they would take no for an answer.
I spent the good part of the day meditating. After I had
finished I found a note from B'ok that we would meet tonight at
the Grey Gargoyle. Probably the second meeting with the party who
wanted to purchase the T'skrang's sword?
Before that, I decided to try to learn more about Armitage
Shanks, the Elementalist who tried to summon the Ant Queen in the
mines of Smelter. At the Great Library, the scribes reacted
surprisingly fearful when I mentioned the name. One of them
whispered something about a former member of staff who had sworn
to bring death to the Great Library. Merrox himself later told me
that Armitage indeed used to work in the Great Library three
years ago. He was banned on his views on the nature of Elementals
and the Invae. He was working on a method of summoning and
warping Elementals to his needs (and I think we interrupted such
a Ritual, usually Invae can't be summoned). Armitage swore to
come back and kill the scribes in the Great Library. Apparently,
he went to the Sky Point/Vivane area to continue his studies ...
Interesting indeed.
In the evening, I took off to the Grey Gargoyle. There I met
Blackmane, Nevkin and Andrea, the young Elf Troubadour we rescued
in the mine. We ordered some food and that was our peril. When I
woke up, I lay bound on the floor, Nevkin and Andrea next to me.
From the next room, we could hear the noises of a fight.
Blackmane managed to free himself of his bonds and cut me loose,
then the real big fight ensued ...
The party, who had offered B'ok a huge amount of silver for her
sword, had laid a trap for us and we walked into it ...
B'ok told us later what had happened: She was asked to meet the
people at the Grey Gargoyle where the would try to agree on a
better price for the sword. But they never wanted to buy it ...
When B'ok and Erik arrived we were already knocked out in the
back room. B'ok was offered 10,000 silver pieces and our lives
for the sword. Naturally, she refused and a fight broke out, two
against the five of them. We later joined them, I managed to fell
the archer with some well-aimed Spirit Darts, B'ok bested the Elf
warrior and Erik helped her as well as he could, but was knocked
down by the other elf, being heavily damaged by the poisoned dart
that Ork shot at him. It was a long fight and we almost made it
but only just. The Ork was suddenly there in front of me, I
didn't see him coming probably because I was just about to cast a
Shield Mist, his rapier hit me in the chest and darkness
surrounded me ...
When I came to, the others were still there, Erik and Blackmane
down, Nevkin and B'ok injured. Only Zembeck was still about.
Naturally, the sword was gone ...
Blackmane and I were plagued by a ravenous hunger. First we
thought, it was a secondary effect of the poison we ate with our
food, but no healer or herbalist we asked for help knew of such a
poison. All we could think of was food, then we had a huge
helping and after that we were still hungry. It was dreadful. I
could not stand the sight of food anymore but I couldn't resist
eating. My stomach and bowels ached, it was worse than starving.
Finally, we learned that an Illusionist's spell had hit us. We
managed to find a wizard who, after some effort, was able to
dispel the spell. When I get him into my fingers, I'll make his
bones dance for hours on end ...
Later we found out a little more about our adversaries. They were
a local band of adventurers, obviously hired by somebody to get
the sword. By who, we have no idea yet. We only came across the
hint that a living legend cult was established around that sword.
The sword had been created by a powerful Nethermancer before the
Scourge. Apparently, a spirit was trapped in it which gave it its
power.
Hopefully, we will find out a little more when we get back from
Hanto. We want our revenge this group of brigands and B'ok wants
her sword back. But first we have to fulfill our contract with
Charboyya.
[OOC: SPOILER ALERT. We are playing a variation on the FASA adventure "Infected". Players who haven't played this yet should not read any further.]
Early in the morning we set off to Charboyya's shop, where he was already waiting for us. He provided us with a map of the area our journey would take us through. Charboyya gave us the messages which we were to deliver to his relatives and friends in Hanto. Again, he asked us to try to find out what happened to the messengers he sent about a month before. Also, as part of our payment, we were provided with mounts, troajins for the dwarfs and horses for the others. On our way out we stopped at an anmimal handler where we picked up provisions for our mounts and a young troll called Bobby, who was to look after them.
The first two days of our journey passed quite uneventfully. On the third day, we saw movement near two mounds in the distance. Zembeck flew over to investigate. He came back after a short while and told us what he had seen. There were the ruins of an old tower, surrounded by a crumpled wall and a heap of stones, dirt and grass. Giant ants, about 1 foot long were crawling all over the place, probably building a hive with the material from the old tower. After a short discussion we decided not to investigate further, as we wanted to arrive at Hanto as quickly as possible.
Our journey took us further west with the Serpent River to the North in the distance. The following night, when I was on watch, I noticed our mounts becoming nervous and uneasy. Between them I could make out small red shapes [OOC: heat sight], so I took a burning branch out of the fire to investigate. I also woke Blackmane. When I came closer I could see clearer. There were a number of about windling-sized, thin, pale, humanoid beings with large, teeth-studded mouths. Some of them had bitten the horses and were obviously sucking their blood. Strangly enough, the horses which had been bitten were quiet, almost seemed to sleep. I was able to chase the bloodsuckers away, they were obviously afraid of the fire. Then Blackmane and I quickly disposed of the others who were attached to the horses with a few well-aimed blows and spells. When we came back to the fire, Eryk and Andrea bent over worriedly over Zembeck, who had a bleeding, circular wound on his chest. Eryk applied one of our potions and the wound closed, but Zembeck was still fast asleep and would not wake up until a few hours later. Fortunately, he was fine, just a bit weak after the blood loss.
The next day we had to walk our horses because the one who had been bitten were too weak to ride on. Of course, that slowed us down and only in the evening we reached the edge of the Servos Jungle to the south. That night, nothing out of the ordinary happened.
On the whole way from Bartertown, we had come across only a few villages and the people there had become more and more hostile towards strangers the farther we went west. So we mostly avoided any settlements. In the evening, we had just set up our camp, we noticed movement in the distance, like objects swinging from poles. As we couldn't see anyone come towards us and it was too dark to investigate anyway, we waited until the next morning.
In the light of the morning we set off toward the moving shapes. Three crudely made wooden cages hung from poles, swinging in the wind. Inside were three bodies, two humans and an ork. They all wore a similar badge to the ones Charboyya had given us. We had found the first group, or at least part of it, the Troll and the Windling were missing. In front of the cages there was a sign written in Dwarven which read: Enemies of the Grim Legion punished for their crimes in aiding the Horrors against Name-givers.
From my studies I remembered that the Grim Legion had been founded before the Scourge by a Dwarven Nethermancer called Verwol during the time of the Burnings. They fought against Horrors and Invae and saved many a village and kaer. But they also killed many innocent people, as they would target anyone who would show unusual behavior as horror-tainted. They coined the phrase When in doubt, hack 'em to bits. They also disposed of anyone who spoke against them in the same way. The Grim Legion was ruthless and indiscriminate.
As I wanted to find out what happened to the dead in the cages, I sat down and concentrated on the female ork's departed spirit ...
There I stood, trembling, bleeding from several wounds and shot a flaming arrow towards my enemies. When the arrow reached them I could make out two orks, a human and an elf with a sleeping dog at her side. One of the orks, clad in black plate mail drew a black broadsword. On the sword's pommel was a black cord which was attached to his belt. When the arrow reached them, they stormed towards us. The dog was the quickest, a huge, black beast at least 4 feet tall at the shoulders. He ran towards one of my companions opend his mouth and breathed flame. My friend was engulfed immediately and died screaming. The female elf clad in hide threw herself towards my brother, her hands changed into tiger paws and she tore him to shreds. Meanwhile, I had cocked another arrow and let it fly at the ork. The arrow shattered on his plate mail. The ork swung his strange sword towards me, and it slammed into my chest, held by the cord. Then there was only pain and darkness ...
I snapped out of my trance, screaming. Fortunately, the spell's effect had absorbed most of the attack's damage, but the pain was still apparent. I told the others what I had experienced. We knew now who we were up against.
On the 9th day of our journey we reached the shores of Lake Vors, a vast lake where the serpent river widened.
The next day we approached a village to ask the way to Hanto. The village elder there asked as why we would want to go to a horror-tainted village. Apparently, the Grim Legion had put the village under quarantine, as they claimed it to be horror-tainted. There had been an accident when a boy fell into the village well and somehow, so the village elder told us, his friend, a little girl, had floated him out by sheer will. Nobody was able to explain this phenomenon, no one knew a spell which could accomplish something like that and how would a small child be able to cast spells anyway. There was only one possibility: she was possessed by a horror!
The elder's story was a bit hard to believe but we should find out. He gave us directions and we set off.
A few hours later, we reached Hanto, a small village surrounded by a fence. At the entrance there was a crude brick structure, like a tower. On top were a Human and an Ork working. At the entrance stood the ork in black plate mail I remembered from the messenger's last moments. The slightly sweet but yet foul smell of rotting flesh hit us. The Troll and the Ork standing in front of the open gates were clearly dead ...
As we approached the village, the Ork in plate mail ordered us to stop and move on. We told him what we wanted but he refused to let us in the village to deliver our messages. He told us, it was under quarantine because of horror taint but refused to tell us why or what had happened. We decided that we wouldn't get any further than this and rode off, a few miles away, and set up camp.
After dark, I sent a Blood Servitor to Hanto in order to spy on the village and their "protectors". The two Cadaver Men were standing outside the closed gates. I found the village in normal order, the villagers were going by their business as usual. In a corral in the middle of the village a female Ork was tending to a huge thundra beast. Not far away in a brightly lit hut, the what I supposed was the rest of the Grim Legion held palaver. Unfortunately I couldn't get close enough to understand everything just a few pieces of conversation about horror taint and what shall we do about it. As I couldn't send the spy any closer without being noticed I set off to look for the little girl, who after I while I was able to find. She sat on a bench in a hut with shuttered windows. In the open doorway sat an Obsidiman talking to her. She seemed to be in good health. Unfortunately, I couldn't get any closer, as on of the huge dogs sitting next to the Obsidiman noticed the spy and attacked it whith its flaming breath. In fear of getting noticed I ordered the spy back.
Later that night, Zembeck had the great idea to open the messages we were carrying. I only noticed it when it was too late but what could you expect from a Windling thief? The messages turned out to be insignificant personal letters to Charboyya's family and the village elder.
Next morning, Zembeck flew off to Hanto, accompanied by another Blood Servitor I had created. Again, the Cadaver Men were standing at the gate and this time the Obsidiman stood watching on top of the tower. Later, a group of villagers accompanied by some of the Legion members left for the fields. Zembeck went after them and I tried to find the little girl. The spy had just landed on the roof of the hut with the shuttered windows. I just wanted to find a hole in the roof for the spy to slip through, when it was noticed by the Obsidiman. He pointed at the spy and suddenly the connection was gone! Obviously, the Obsidiman was a spellcaster and had just dispelled the Blood Servitor. I immediately told the others and we decided to break camp and ride to Hanto to help Zembeck. We met him about half way to the village. He told us he had delivered the messages to Emberica, Charboyya's brother. However, he believed that his brother had sent us to free the village from the Grim Legion
After a lengthy discussion, we decided to try the peaceful way
and talk to the Grim Legion, so we took off to Hanto again.
Arriving there, we were stopped again by the Ork in plate mail.
Andrea went up to him, slapped him across the face with all her
strength and said something in Orkish I couldn't understand. He
punched her in the stomach and she almost doubled over. And then
they were laughing and clapping their shoulders. Must be some
Orkish custom ...
Anyway, she talked to him for a long time and they finally came
to an arrangement: We were allowed to go into the village, keep
our Thread Items but had to leave our armor and mundane weapons
behind. Then the Obsidiman who watched the whole procedure
silently pointed to me and Andrea, of all people, and said,
"Search the spellcasters". It was pretty obvious what
she was after, and the Ork soon found my Grimoire, but he
couldn't find anything on Andrea. So Andrea was a spellcaster
also, another mystery ... (Later I looked at her in Astral Space
and could indeed see four Spell Matrices woven into her pattern,
and also a thread that was leading away from her, but I
disgress). Now, that I was closer to the Obsidiman, I could see
that she (or whatever) was wearing a strange helm which looked
like a skull of some sort with spikes or horns. An astral
examination proved that it was a thread item. Interesting ...
He we were, in Hanto, free to move about the village but not to leave it. We had a good look around and I soon found the hut where they kept the little girl (Ardeela was her Name as we soon found out). It was guarded by those firebreathing dogs I've seen earlier through the eyes of my spy. I had a closer look, that is, I shifted my vision to see into Astral Space and I could make out a pattern of a spell and threads woven around the hut, protecting it. I also noticed that the dogs existed both in real and astral space. That's how they noticed my Blood Servitor. I decided not go near the hut unless absolutely necessary until I knew more.
We spent the day talking to different people and found out a
few facts:
The messages Zembeck had delivered to Charboyya's brother
Emberica had all reached their addressees
Ardeela was kept in the hut, only once a day her mother would be
allowed to bring her some food and talk to her for a few moments
The Grim Legion was a bit split. Kwamm, the Ork in plate with the
strange sword and Molta, the Obsidiman didn't get along with each
other very well. Kwamm believed, he was the leader of the group,
but in fact it was Molta ...
Every day, groups of villagers would be allowed to tend to their
field and graze their livestock under guard of at least two
members of the Legion
The group of messengers who were sent before us wanted to leave
the village by force and were killed. They turned their leader,
the Troll into a Cadaver Man, how I cannot tell. I do not know a
Nethermancer spell that could do that. Maybe it's Molta with her
magical helmet, which looks a bit like a Horror skull to me ...
Unfortunately, the wouldn't let us speak with the little girl but
maybe Zembeck or Andrea can find their way in ... Her mother,
Orweia, can't explain what happened to Ardeela. She was behaving
normally and then she started to heal people just by touching
them and then the accident happened: A little boy fell into the
village well and Ardeela levitated him out of it and healed him.
She didn't want to tell anyone, not even her mother, how she did
it.
Emberica, Charboyya's brother wants to lead a rebellion against
the Grim Legion. I hope, we can talk him out of it.
[OOC: Sorry for the long delay but the fate of Borgon was uncertain and I didn't take part in the last session. I hope, I'll be able to convince Blackmane to relate the events of the last session.]
Fortunately, the Legion had not yet noticed Zembeck, our Windling. He managed to sneak into Ardeela's hut through the chimney and talk to her. He seemed to have won her confidence because she told him what had happened to her. She had been outside playing not far from the village when she noticed a hole under a tree and some rocks. She boldly squeezed in and found a cave with a lot of debris in it. And there, so she claimed, a book talked to her.
Ardeela told Zembeck the location of the cave and he flew there right away. There he found after some searching indeed a huge tome bound in strange leather. A short look into astral space told him that the book was definitely magical in nature, however, what type of magic was involved, he couldn't tell. As he told us later, he kept hearing a voice inside his head that seemed to come frome the book talking not much more thang gibberish. Only something about time running out and knowledge that must not be lost. Zembeck, being a thief, continued searching the pile of rubble for valuables and finally found a strange locked box. Using his Thief magic, he managed to open it and found a small statue of a dragon. Finally, he decided to leave but couldn't get far with both the book, which was taller than him, and the statue, so he left the items under the tree and came back to us. He told us what he had found.
We now had what we needed: the proof that Ardeela was not Horror-tainted. After some discussion we decided that I should go back to the tree with Zembeck. I took on the form of a bat to be able to fly out of the village. At the tree I would wait until the spell had expired, take the book and statue, change into a bat again and fly back to Hanto. At least, that was our plan which went horribly wrong ...
Following Zembeck to the tree was no problem. We sat there waiting for my spell to expire when a commotion started in the village. Some members of the Grim Legion left the village and came towards us. We tried to hide but they spotted us. Then, I heard Molta's commanding voice inside my head: "Borgon, come back to me. Please!" And I couldn't resist. I had not thought of a major disadvantage of my Nightflyer's Cloak spell. In the form of a bat, I was a bat and therefore susceptible to one of the basic Nethermancer spell, Command Nightlflyer. If my mentor reads this, he will be extremly upset and I won't blame him. So I fluttered off to Molta and perched on her arm. Fortunately, I couldn't see Zembeck anywhere. He probably got away again.
Back in Hanto, Molta threw me into Ardeela's hut, sealing it
again with her spell. Shortly after, I changed back into my
original form, extremely upsetting Ardeela in the process. She
just kept screaming and crying. After a few attempts to soothe
her, I gave up and decided to help her otherwise. As I had
devised earlier, the spell protecting the had was of nethermantic
origin, so I tried to dispel it. I sat down and concentrated and
the spell indeed vanished. I struggled with the locked door for a
moment, finally managed to smash it and stormed outside only to
be attacked by one of the huge dogs. The beast jumped on me and a
fierce struggle broke out. I was able to hit him once or twice
with a Spirit Grip but then it pushed me on my back and breathed
fire in my face. Burning, I cast a last Spirit Grip which seemed
to drive it off. I rolled on the ground to put out the flames. I
felt my life force drain from me with every turn, but finally the
flames went out. However, that was not enough. Just as I wanted
to get up, two of the cadaver men appeared and I could hear
Molta's voice: "Kill him when he moves". Weak as I was
I kept lying on my back staring into the emotionless eyes of the
two undead creatures. In the distance I heard fighting ...
In this desperate moment, a thought occurred to me. I had never
used the Undead Struggle spell against more than one opponent.
Theoretically, it should have been possible, so I tried. The
others were fighting and probably losing against the Grim Legion.
I didn't want to die killed by a cadaver troll with a rusty
sword, so I concentrated on the two undead spirits before me and
cast the spell. The first struggle was brief, I leashed out with
my mind and the two cadaver men staggered back. Good, I thought,
and concentrated even more, this time activating my blood charm
to boost the force of my attack. I struck their spirits with a
strength that should have ripped them apart, but at the same
time, a huge wave of mental energy came towards me. Bright lights
exploded in front of my eyes and then all went black ...
For a while I was warm and safe in my
lighthouse. It was a solitary existence but it suited me and It
was comforting to know I would soon awake for the evening and
ensure the light burned brightly in the night sky to guide the
great airships safely to Bartertown and beyond. Unfortunately,
reality began to encroach and I realised I was dreaming.
I was not in my bed at the lighthouse. I was face down in the
dirt in a village I had never heard of before I met a group of
youngsters intent on setting the world to rights - even though it
appeared to be right enough already. I might have seen more of
the world in the last month than the previous fifty years but I
had also gathered more scars.
Remembering how I had become unconscious, I
came fully awake with some trepidation. Blackmane had begun a
fight with Kwamm - the ork military leader of the Grim Legion.
The rest of us joined in but we were out-classed and I was
knocked out.
To my surprise, it was earlier than I had thought and we were not
trussed up ready for execution. It was still dark and, judging by
the moon, early morning. I was weak and my leg was painful where
I had been wounded but I had, apparently, been healed as I felt
far better than I should have. I shivered in the cool night air
and levered myself up.
The Grim Legion were pulling out of Hanto.
Molta was going round healing our group. The Legion were
evidently not holding the midnight fight against us. Already
Blackmane was struggling to his feet but knowing what I did of
the Ork Liberator that was no indication of how healthy he was.
Bobbie had taken a nasty lance wound to his shoulder and Andrea
had claw marks slashed down her front.
The next morning the village begins, like ourselves, to recover.
Three villagers died in the fighting and I help to bury them. The
others help with the farming and baking and the village slowly
returns to how it was before the Grim Legion arrived. B'ok works
in the forge, sharpening her swords.
It is 26 Riag before we leave, still
slightly worse for our fight with the Grim Legion. The Hanto
villagers give us a rousing send off and ensure we are well
provisioned. We have a new addition to our group. Melonial, one
of the Grim Legion joins us. A surprising turn of events but she
claims to have been only loosely associated with them. There are
some reservations. B'ok seems particularly against the idea but I
had seriously injured her and if the Grim Legion had wanted to
plant her as a spy amongst us they would not have left her in
such a state with so many hostile villagers about. Of course, it
seems she is a thief and I have all on keeping anything to myself
with that mosquito Zembeck about. Still, Andrea seemed happy with
her and she seems a good judge of character.
As we leave I decide to scout ahead, not very far, just a mile or
so. There is little need but its nice to be on my own, again.
Perhaps, its like a family, although its been decades since I
knew such a thing, where we largely get on well but having one' s
own personal space is nice too, for a while. This is particularly
so as I notice a certain tension; whenever Erik and Melonial seem
to be getting too friendly B'ok is there as though chaperoning
them or something. Perhaps Andrea understands such things better,
having spent much longer around people because I surely do not.
Four days from Hanto, I am riding through
the long grass, still well ahead of the others when I notice a
rustling ahead. My Troajin seems skittish, which is very strange
as they are usually fearless creatures. I soon understand why as
a large monster rears up ahead like am overgrown cross between a
chicken and a hedgehog. I decide to hold it off while the others
catch up. I charge, my Trojan forgetting its apprehension and
hurtles through the grass. I yell a battle cry and ready my
gleaming axe. B'ok was kind enough to sharpen it still further
and I am confident in its capabilities.
The Monster - I later learn it is a Cockatrice - quickly appears
larger as I approach, its feath ers stood up. My Trojan is hit by
monstrous claws and hit by spines. I roll off as it dies with a
pitiful last gasp. Suddenly, my axe does not seem quite as
capable as I thought and I sprint back to the group, the
Cockatrice not far behind. I am saved only by my training as a
scout as I hurtle through the long grass faster than most could
manage, although the sound of the squawking obscenity behind me
encourages my efforts. I speed through the party, who are
hurrying towards me. I barely register their surprise as I run
through them and stop a few hundred yards beyond Blackmane at the
back.
The cockatrice decides the heavily armed group of adventurers is
too much for it and it veers away. I recover my items and Borgan
agrees to give me a ride, although what he gets up to is some
what disturbing and I wonder at my choice of riding companion.
Three days after the Cockatrice, at some
foothills, we hear a peculiar digging sound. I approach to
investigate and silent walk until I am quite close to where t he
sound is coming from. I also use my Astral Sight and detect a
glow within the rock on the astral plane. I creep back to the
others and report my findings, such as they are. Something
appears to be digging for Elemental Earth.
Melonial uses her ability to hide in shadows to approach, soon
followed by B'ok and there is a deal of discussing what to do. A
rocky head pokes up. It climbs onto the rock behind which it was
digging. It is approximately five and a half feet tall with claws
and bat-like wings. On top of its head are large horns and it is
covered with chitinous plates. I fire my crossbow but miss
completely. A second monster joins the first one, identical in
appearance. On my next attempt to fire the string breaks. In the
meantime, both B 'ok and Blackmane are severely raked. We
cautiously retreat.
Fortunately, they do not pursue but we now have no chance of
surprising them. We decide, however, to try again. This time we
are better prepared and advance as a close defensive circle.
Borgon summons a Fog Ghost to attack one of the creatures and we
attack them on the boulder. The drawback to the Ghost is it is
uncontrollable, apparently, but it does its job and the Fog Ghost
and one of the Gargoyles - for that is what these hideous
creatures are - hack away at each other. In a short time our
numerical superiority pays off and the Gargoyles and Borgon's Fog
Ghost are killed, despite another spectacular miss with my
crossbow on the way up.
The Gargoyle's horns are valuable and we cut them off to take
with us. B'ok begins excavating the Elemental Earth but something
goes wrong and its power seeps into the astral plane and we are
left with plain rock and a few scratchings lying about from the
Gargoyle's tearing at the rock to get at it.
With a sense of a job completed, if not done spectacularly well, we return to Bartertown. There our employer, Charboyya, gives us 800 silver pieces, more than agreed by way of remuneration for our efforts in freeing the village from the Grim Legion. For a while we decide to enjoy the fruits of our labours and we go off our separate ways agreeing to join together again soon.
The members of our group spent the last 4 weeks doing various different things. Blackmane decided to train as a Warrior, Andrea and Eric performed their act (as part of The Bartertown Band) on various stages in Bartertown, others trained in their Disciplines, I trained and did some research at the Great Library.
Then, Blackmane came to see us. Jarcon, the Grand Elder of the
Temple of Lochost, where he trained, had apparently dissappeared.
Some suspected kidnapping. We agreed on going to Ustane, one of
the finished but not yet populated cities of Throal, to find and
bring her back to the Temple.
Outside the temple, a rather large group of grey clad people
waited for us. Followers of the Mad Passion Dis! Soon it became
clear that a fight was inevitable. Two Fog Ghosts, a few
well-aimed Spirit Darts and the combined efforts of Blackmane,
Nevkin, Andrea, Eryk and B'ok and the fight was over. It turned
out that there was only one Questor of Dis who had controlled and
commanded his slaves using his powers. As to why, we have no
answer.
As there were supposed to be guards at the gates to Ustane, we
disguised ourselves as gardeners, with a contract to finish the
gardens and fountains of the palace.
On our way through the tunnels to Ustane we were attacked by
giant, wolfsized rats, which were disposed of after a short
fight.
At the gates we were stopped by the guards, but Andrea convinced
them quickly who we were and the let us through.
Quickly, we found the house where Jarcon was supposed to meet
somebody, who we suspected to be responsible for her abduction.
B'ok jumped a trap at the entrance and was hit by a fierce
fireball. Luckily, she survived the attack. But now the door was
open and we were able to enter. Inside there was a Gatehound
guarding the yard. This opponent proved a little more of a
challenge, as it uses magic to fight, but still couldn't stand
against us. With Nevkin's help, I removed the Gatehounds organ,
which might come in handy, or can be sold for a good price. The
house was furnished but empty. Under the carpet in the dining
room we found a hidden trapdoor, disguised with Illusion magic.
In the cellar below was a laboratory of some sort. We were
searching the lab, when more rats came out of the crumpled
corners of the room. Just when the fight was over, we heard
footsteps from above. Down came a redhaired, female Ork, fitting
exactly the description of Jarcon. I already thought of some
misunderstanding of the whole matter, when Blackmane shouted
"Who are you" and drew his hammer. Then I remembered
the Illusion we encountered and concentrated on the image of the
Ork, trying to disbelieve it. The illusion fell and before me
stood a Troll. I shouted to the others that the Ork wasn't what
she seemed and prepared a spell. Reacting quickly, Nevkin knocked
the Troll down with the flat side of his battle-axe and sat on
him. The Troll's companions were also disposed of quickly. Then
Andrea searched again the room and the crumpled wall where the
rats had come from and found several disguised doors. Behind one
of them lay the real Jarcon unconscious on the floor. We quickly
revived her and she told us that she had been betrayed by the
people who she believed to be friends against the fight against
slavery. These "friends" turned out to be slavers
themselves.
Thanks to Andrea's persuasive talent, we returned quickly to the
main halls of Throal and left Jarcon in the care of her temple.
[OOC: Sorry for this shorter and rather confused section but I've been extremely busy over the last weeks]
I had spent the first couple of days
recovering from a trap I had sprung on our last adventure.
Fortunately, I heal quickly and, despite the dart from the door
being poisoned, I was on my feet again after a couple of days.
The poison was purged by a priest of Garlen and I later called in
to their Ozlum and donated twelve silvers. Keeping the priests
happy is a good idea when we are short of healing potions and we
do not have a healer.
The tax collector came round while I was recovering and levied a
tax on myself and Blackmane. The tax was high - forty-five
percent of what I had made from adventuring. I have a reasonable
amount of money but it seems harsh that I take the risks and the
kingdom takes the rewards. Still, Throal is peaceful and
relatively free from crime. Perhaps, as I become more confident
in my abilities I feel less inclined to pay for protection.
A further drawback to the taxation was Blackmane decided to move
out and stay at the Mavuul Arms. Although the years in the
Lighthouse taught me to value solitude I quite enjoyed having
someone else in the house other than Kerig Durn - the family
retainer - at least once I became used to the smell. Ork hygiene
is a contradiction. Still, Kerig is getting on and my
conversations with him seem to be increasingly difficult. Kerig
seems to either defer to me almost as though I owned him -
particularly awkward with Blackmane (a Liberator) in the house
else treat me like I am still a youngster in need of a firm hand.
Having a quiet smoke and an ale with Blackmane was quite pleasant
although I suspect it was a bit too quiet for a restless, young
Ork like him.
I spent a day at the scout guildhouse teaching a couple of young
Second Circle Adepts. I am trying to teach them to Silent Walk
but it is an area I am weak in and I fear I teach poorly. Still,
they show some promise. I stay until quite late, having met
Neander who was back from the frontier for the first time in
nearly a year. Jagg Neander was back to be officially recognised
as Seventh Circle, having been near the Theran border for some
time. A phlegmatic dwarf, he seems particularly reticent to talk
about what he was doing there. Back home I put the finishing
touches to a carving of an airship. The wood is poor and my skill
little better but I still feel pleased with it as it captures
some of the magnificence of those marvellous vessels.
The next day sees the arrival of the
Shining Light Trading Company, who set up a massive tent in the
Grand Bazaar. I meet Blackmane as arranged and queue to get in.
We overhear talk of five bodies being drained of blood, a rumour
B'ok has also heard when she joins us.
Together we enter the tent. There is an almost overwhelming
assault on our senses: exotic sights, sounds and smells. I have
brought over 2500 silver pieces and am careful not to flash such
wealth about, although others do not seem to have such concerns.
All manner of magical items are for sale from pans and
firestarters to weapons and armour. Apparently, the Trading
Company have been to Parlainth and it rekindles my desire to go,
despite the risks.
I would like some magical armour but the prices are,
understandably, high. I offer a dwarf trader fifteen hundred for
a suit, one which she cannot guarantee what effect its Thread
pattern has - a common problem. She turns to someone else. I am
not good at such things and instead of offering a bargaining
point to start at I probably offended her. Its times like this
Andrea - the Troubadour - is very helpful. Dejected , I start to
go but B'ok - who had been off to buy a tail weapon - and
Blackmane join me. The latter suggests B'ok attempts to sell what
she knows about a powerful sword she once had but was stolen from
her - Daumaqag. The trader - Mila - is enthusiastic and for my
twenty-five hundred I got a set of chainmail belonging to the
human thief Jangish.
Zembeck was also at the Bazaar, apparently he had been at
Bartertown but I think I am better off not knowing what he had
been doing there. At the Bazaar he attempted to learn more about
the statue of a dragon we had gained during the Hanto adventure.
Se parately, Zembeck and myself went to the Great Library. I
learned more about Jangish. I had vaguely heard of him but,
shortly after the greatest success of his career, there was
little more heard of him. Jangish had managed to steal a dagger
from the Great Dragon Icewing. Sometime after he had been
captured in the Theran Empire, enslaved and worked to death. An
ignoble end for anyone.
Icewing also appeared in Zembek's research.
The Great Dragon was probably who the statue was modelled on.
When Zembeck explained this to us we decided to visit Icewing who
is the only Great Dragon to receive Name-givers. There is a
price, however. We need to give Icewing a gift and, as it is for
a Great Dragon, this is not cheap. Zembeck has a shortfall and I
lend him 300 silver pieces. I know the statue could be beneficial
to the party and I ought to give the money but I cannot bring
myself to trust Zembeck - he sometimes seems to be too amoral. I
know that's Windlings for you but we were talking about taking a
Blood Oath and properly becoming a proper adventuring company.
The thought of having to be forever defending a Windling Thief
gives me the shivers.
I digress. Blackmane suggested a tapestry and a magical one was
chosen. B'ok managed to haggle the trader down to 1080 silvers
and I thought it looked very nice. It would have had
pride-of-place in my home but I wonder whether it will impress a
millennia-old Great D ragon. What started as Zembeck going to
learn about his statue seems to have evolved into the four of us
going to see Icewing.
And so we set off towards the mountains
where Icewing's lair is. We hardly make an imposing group for the
dragon: myself (ar moured in my old chain mail, given that
Jangish stole from Icewing, I would not want any mistake about
who I am), B'ok the T'skrang Weaponsmith, Blackmane the Ork
Liberator with his horse encumbered with the tapestry and Zembeck
flicking about like an over-sized mosquito.
It is mid-afternoon when we notice the smell of burning flesh. We
continue up a valley formed between two towering mountains. A
cold wind howls but it is not that which chills us but a harsh,
rasping voice behind us. Ahead the narrow valley path is blocked
with boulders and we are surrounded by Cave Trolls. More boulders
are rolled down. The voice demands everything we have in its
broken Dwarfish. A fight is inevitable.
Unfortunately, I did not acquit myself well. Although I killed
one of the trolls attacking me the other severely wounded me and
I passed out. I was later able to piece together the rest of the
fight. Zembeck held off one of the trolls until being beaten
unconscious and I feel abashed at my earlier attitude towards the
little fellow. B'ok managed to knock out one of the trolls before
taking a serious hit and also losing consciousness. The hero of
the fight was Blackmane who managed to defeat another of them
after a drawn out fight with it and at one point had two of the
trolls who had been knocked out, now recovered, against him as
well. I came around in time to see Blackmane fighting the trolls
and I awoke B'ok. As the trolls were knocked down, Zembeck and
B'ok finished them off. Bleeding and more than a little
disorientated I steadied myself, by which time the fight was
over. I also learned that, after I had been knocked unconscious,
the only two trolls standing at that point were on the verge of
leaving when Blackmane had challenged them so they fought on. At
this rate I will not die of old age.
In the aftermath, we spent a little time recovering and Blackmane
collected up the weapons and armour from the trolls and loaded
them onto his horse. A certain spirit of excitement had been with
us initially but the fight with the trolls had sapped our energy.
Well, mine anyway. Blackmane seemed quite buoyed by the encounter
and there's no such thing as a depressed Windling. B'ok was more
subdued but she had taken quite a hit towards the end. My
confidence in my capabilities had taken quite a knock.
We had managed to kill the trolls but I think the group is less
flexible, currently. Borgon the Nethermancer is off doing things
I really do not want to know about and Andrea and Eryk the
Swordmaster are busy with the Bartertown Band. In the fight we
missed their skills and we missed them.
The whole journey was not a long distance but the fight had
slowed us and the sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains
when we reached the end of the valley. We were now quite high up
and the air was cold. I had been becoming used to living underg
round and I found the coolness invigorating, despite my injuries.
Ahead, at the end of the rising valley, was a massive cave
entrance. There were trees about, mighty conifers, silent guards
sheltered by the surrounding mountains. Near the trail's end was
a wooden hut, although at first glance there appeared to be
no-one about. I smelt pipe smoke and looked to the others who had
also noticed it. When we called out, an elf appea red. He
introduced himself as Rathan.
Rathan is a perfect host and invites us into the hut, where we
relax and we swap tobacco - by its quality, he is an elf of good
taste. He explains that we can rest for the night in the hut and
are free to see Icewing in the morning, if we choose. Apparently,
the cave trolls are effective at discouraging casual visitors. As
the only Great Dragon who will talk to Name-givers, as far as is
known, Icewing attracts a lot of attention and not all of it is
welcome - Jangish, for example.
Still far from completely recovered, I feel better in the morning
after a good night's sleep. The sun shines brightly in the clear,
crisp air. It is a good day to meet a dragon.
Afterwards, back in the hut, I reflect on the meeting. How can I
describe with simple words meeting the Great Dragon? For a start,
we were struck dumb with Dragonfear but beyond that was the sheer
majesty of such a creature. The Great Dragon was massive but its
size was only part of its presence. Such power combined with such
dignity. My first sight of the Great Dragon, as its mighty head
appeared followed by an almost endless body will always be with
me. It seemed to flow down steps too grand for Name-givers to
use.
We learned much; arguably too much. The Great Dragon accepted the
tapestry we had bought as a gift and also the statue which
Zembeck had brought to ask about. How can you ask something that
has claws almost as big as you are to give it back? Zembeck tried
to find out about it anyway and also the blue book which had sent
some sort of magic into him. Of the statue he learned nothing.
The book had given him some kind of connection with the Great
Dragon and he would be contacted in the future. Further, whatever
had happened to him could be pas sed on to his descendants,
something which was the Great Dragon encouraged (and when a Great
Dragon encourages it is akin to being geased).
B'ok asked about her lost sword - Daumaqag. I expected a sword to
be of no interest to such an awe-inspiring creature but I was
proved wrong. The Great Dragon was very much aware of the sword,
although not of where it was. The Great Dragon informed us in its
deep, rumbling voice that Damaquok was a weapon of dark power -
an eater of souls. I wondered what the real cost of buying
Jangish's chainmail had been. If such a terrible sword has fallen
into the wrong hands and they learn of the knowledge we told Mila
the trader then we could have helped those causes we strive so
hard against.
There was more. We learned Andrea's background. When we rescued
her Andrea had amnesia and even had to invent a new name for
herself. Andrea's history could hardly be worse - a Theran
noblewoman named Oakandria Vane. We were stunned. The woman who
had helped free the villagers of Hanto from the Grim Legion and
Jerkain from the followers of Dis was a ruler of an empire built
on slavery.
It is a reflective group who return towards Throal, accompanied
by Rathan. We barely notice the blood-stained stones from our
battle against the trolls. Blackmane has a murderous gleam in his
eye and I wonder if we have the will to stop him.
(it's so easy to lose track of the days going by when you have
an interesting book to study)
I had found this interesting tome in the laboratory in Ustane. It
was the journal of a Troll Illusionist named Faker. It contained
accounts of his travels (including maps), a few spells from
various disciplines, some of them I hadn't heard of, and notes on
two Thread Items, the Staff of the Acolytes and the Dagger
of the Thousand Spirits, both of which are rumored to lie
hidden in Parlainth. The major part of the book was a treatise on
connecting astral patterns and the locking of spells. Extremely
interesting thoughts and they seem to work. I'll have to conduct
some further research into this matter.
That evening the others contacted me and wanted to tell me something interesting, so I made my way to the Broken Lutestring where the Bartertown Band was playing again. When my beloved companions told me of their encounter with Icewing, the Great Dragon, I was furious. If I hadn't know them for all my life, and gone through many a fight with them, I would have turned my back, right there, for denying me that opportunity. Apparently, the hadn't been able to find me. Hah! I spent my time either at the library or in the room I had rented at the Pen and Quill. I even met Andrea a few times in the library where she made research on renaming rituals, as she was thinking of Renaming herself. Considering her past, that sounds like a reasonable idea to me.
Anyway, back to the Lutestring. Andrea had just
finished a song and joined us at our table when suddenly she
started shaking as if being attacked by some invisible force and
blood stained the front of her blouse. Shifting my sight into the
Astral Plane, I saw a presence. An over 4 foot tall vortex of
reddish swirls of air. Without thinking, I cast a Spirit Dart at
the presence, which provoked some reaction. Whatever it was, it
manifested, at least partly. It had a triangular skull with
facetted eyes that reminded me of an insect's and long arms with
huge long-fingered hands that ended in blue-red claws. As soon as
it had manifested, the music stopped and people were running out
of the tavern, screaming for help. But help was at hand, in the
form of Blackmane, Nevkin, Eryk, B'ok and myself. The monster
seemed to concentrate on Andrea but also attacked the rest of us
with its claws and spears of air it shot out of its mouth. It
even tried to suffocate us with some magical effect. The entity
finally gave way to a huge blow from Nevkin's Battle-axe and a
few well-aimed Spirit Darts of mine and finally exploded
in a blast of reeking stench. Thankfully, Andrea was still alive,
but very weak, too weak even to drink from the Potion of Life. We
needed the services of a questor of Garlen, who was so kind not
only to help Andrea on her way to recovery but also some other
members of our group.
Before I left, I examined Andrea's Pattern, and noticed that the
strange additional patterns were gone. We came to the conclusion
that this thing was probably a final gift by Armitage Shanks.
Possibly the revelation of Andrea's True Name had summoned this
entity, whose powers seemed like those of an Air Elemental to me.
But it was warped, corrupted. The Invae perhaps? It had insect
eyes, after all.
As it would take a few weeks for Andrea to recover - she
wouldn't even speak - we all went back to our quarters to lick
our wounds. When we met again about a week after, Andrea was able
to tell us more about her former life. As the final link to
Armitage Shanks was destroyed, her memory came back.
Her True Name is Oakandria Vane. She used to be a member of a
noble Theran family but one day she spoke out and revealed her
opinion on non-criminals being made slaves. She promptly was made
a slave. Apparently, Armitage Shanks bought her. Whatever
happened in the two years after that, she had no recollection of.
As Andrea was still considered a criminal by Thera, she would be
enslaved immediately, as soon as she returned to Theran
territory. Well, I think she has no desire to do so ...
When Andrea (we were still calling her by this name and she's
happy with it) was fully recovered we finally agreed to do what
we had been discussing for some time: creating a Group Pattern
for our little company.
After some arguing we agreed on the Name The Winds of
Freedom and a willow tree as symbol. When everybody
had sworn the Blood Oath, the Pattern form. Weaving Threads to
our individual Group Pattern Items will enable us to improve our
abilities and Talents, which will come in handy considering the
destination of our next journey:
Parlainth, the Forgotten City!
The Shining Light Trading Company had been looking
for Adepts to guard their caravan on the perilous journey to
Haven, the Gate to Parlainth. We had heard many wondrous and
dangerous stories of this ancient city. The Theran Capital of
Barsaive before the Scourge had been to large for a citadel, so
the Theran mages performed a powerful ritual and transported the
city into another Plane. The thought it to be safe there, but it
wasn't. When Parlainth was brought back about 80 years ago, it
was demolished, corrupted, swarming with Horrors, Horror
Constructs and Undead.
All the treasures of the ancient are said to still lie in the
ruins, however. Many adventurers have gone there and returned
laden with treasure, magical and mundane, but many more never
returned. The Shining Light Trading Company conducts regular
trade between Haven and Throal, trading provisions, adventuring
equipment and healing aids from Throal for loot out of the ruins
of Parlainth.
So we presented ourselves to the Trading Company and they accepted us as guards for the journey to Parlainth ...
Continued in the second part ... (otherwise the page would be too large)