Whom the gods would destroy... — Legacy Forums

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#161

Vorodon began to feel the pain of his injuries as he slowly trudged toward the well. The tar-demon’s claws had scored and rent the browned iron of his forefathers’ armor, tearing one riveted iron band loose entirely. Blood trickled from his scored ribcage, further staining the oft-patched tunic he wore beneath his harness. The wound itself concerned him little, for his body wore scars of many worse battles. Vorodon was more concerned that the thing’s cruel claws carried some abyss-spawned contagion or unheard-of poison. Best he should wash the wound with brandy, then bind it with a poultice of boiled grasses to mask it from the sight of whatever wicked spirits haunted this place.

An aged bucket sat near the well, leaky and battered. He had no confidence in the bucket’s decayed cord, but the heavy line in his pack sufficed as a substitute. Leaving the bucket to soak for a few minutes so it wouldn’t leak, he stumbled about the courtyard, examining its neglected stones and moss-covered carvings.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#162

Aerex eyed the cleric a bit warily. "Yes, well..." he trails off, staring. He caught himself, shaking his head a bit. "Well, I look forward to our dinner, then. May we both be successful, and our meeting with the Lady fruitful." He smiled politely.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#163

As the others began to tend to the wounded, Kadarin walked swiftly over to the fallen Demodand. He quickly drew forth a small vial and scooped up some of the beast's ichor even as the foul thing began to dissolve into smoke. Quickly he stoppered it, and was rewarded by it remaining within the glass prison.

Greed or ambition drew Kadarin on to another stop - the fallen wizard.

He looked dispassionately down at the fallen wizard, his eyes closed and face half covered in blood. Quickly he rifled through the robe and found a strange, tar-filled jar, and a diminishingly small book that appeared to be the wizard's spellbook.

The robe spoke of great quality, and it seemed a shame for it be worn by a corpse, so Kadarin stripped the wizard of that too.

"If we have a time, it would be best for this one to be purified by fire. Those that deal in this type of art tend to sleep restlessly. If someone could finish the job on the neck, that may be prudent as well." For some reason, Kadarin conjured up the image of Dujeck, and wondered what had become of him..

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#164

If only Insector Aerax were here, Vorodon reflected as he fetched up the pail. He hoped his friend won the regatta, but wished the little man were here instead. The Insector was clever, but lacked the practical mind of a Volgottir, so could get himself into trouble. Vorodon sadly considered that few people seemed to have the straightforward nature of the hill folk.

Noticing Kadarin dealing with the wizard's remains, Vorodon called over to him. “Friend Kadarin, if when you want helfing, Vorodon helf after finish get waters for to others.” The magic user shouldn't have to deal with his unpleasant task alone. “Not good for to aloning.”

Judging by the battered corpse’s appearance, their half-stripped foe's health had been none too good: Vorodon doubted he’d even make good pie. The hill warrior resolved to check what spices could be found after he was done fetching water for the wounded. Perhaps something could be salvaged from the unsavory mess.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#165

Without drawing attention to his bruises, Kyrian let his healing magic flow to wipe away the hurt. He returned to the manor, but the boy was safe in Adan's hands, and the lordling certainly needed some heroics of his own to raise his spirits. Kyrian just smiled, then commented on something the paladin might have found almost hard to believe: "You did it, Adan."

Then, he turned and proceeded to cleanse himself of the demon-tar and then prepare the luggage, forgotten in the morn's excitement.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#166

"Not I, Kyrian, but my Lord." Adan shook his head softly, as he ruffed the hair of the boy, now merely sleeping, rather than lying on death's dock, awaiting the oarsman. Rising, he lifted the boy easily, meaning to deposit him in a bed, for the moment. "It was his will that Erund survive, and I but his instrument."

And then, as he stepped towards the stairs, he frowned. "Can you aid the others in cleansing themselves, and incinerating these corpses? Though distant, Denhane was of the blood, and there is ritual that may only be attended to by others of the blood."

Barely waiting for the response, he deposited Erund in his bed, and turned to the study, locking the door behind him. Where had the passage been? Ah, there. Lifting Denhane's corpse, heavy though it was, the once-paladin dragged his uncle's body through the narrow passage, and divested him of his clothing. It would not be long indeed before the oily smoke began to pour forth from the chimneys of the small keep, though it would be a short time later before the paladin would emerge, a small metal box, tightly sealed added to his luggage, along with any remaining belongings of Denhane's that might prove of use.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#167

As Adan turned away, Kyrian had to shake his head; he would never grasp the faith of these northmen. At their best, they sounded like 'It is not me, but my lord who is awesome; I am but a lowly worm without my god to guide me; my failure is but my own' ... and 'it was but the will of my god that I razed this land' on the darker side. It was even doubtful that Adan would enjoy one of the Elven Moon-Feasts were he allowed to participate.

"Bah, he will rejoice one day! For what is life without enjoying the small victories?"

Smirking, he assembled the luggage, then grabbed a hefty meat-hook on a chain from the storage and proceeded to haul the bodies of the fiends outside.

"Vorodon!" he called, "shall we light a bonfire, with those fiendlings as kindling?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#168

Aerex Matare

Aerex and Melitus were escorted, as they made their way beneath the raised portcullis gate and across the austere courtyard, by six properly grim-looking guards clad in burnished steel. The only sound they could hear was the flapping of banners in the wind, dozens of them, all bearing the Hellswchert’s symbol, and the clatter of mailed boots on the cobbled stone.

Eventually, they entered the castle proper, and made their way rather quickly and unceremoniously up several sets of stairs, all cold, simple-cut stone, the walls around them unadorned. Finally they were ushered by the guards into a large reception chamber, approximately ninety feet off the ground, overlooking the cold, frothy sea.

A huge oval table in the middle of the room, draped in velvet, held a veritable feast. Quail, puffin, lamprey and eel, pheasant, and pigeons, all stuffed, smoked, braised or baked. Bowls of fruits from southern ports interspersed the game fowl and anguilliformes, platters of cheeses, breads, and smoked whale tongue, completed the banquet.

“His right honorable gentlemen, ambassador to Jantir, Melitus Galbra, and his companion, his right honorable gentlemen, Aerex Matare, also of Jantir.”

Unseen voices announced the pair, as they took to two empty high-backed chairs. Seated at the far end of the table, beside the shuttered, stone window was Thea Hellschwert. She could have been twenty, thirty, or forty years of age, Aerex could not be sure. Her looks were ageless and noble, though her skin like white marble, so devoid of the sun was this land. Her hair was the color of sand beneath sunset, streaked with silvery wisps. She wore a practical outfit for dining, and seemed to eschew ceremony and ritual all-together.

Sitting to the right of the young ruler, was a stone-eyed, balding man, in ceremonial garb befitting his rank, his expression unreadable. As Aerex sat, he noticed the man was slowly rolling a hard-boiled egg on the table with his palm, back and forth, savoring the sound of the cracking shell. A sheathed great sword leaned against the stone wall, directly behind his seat. This was Lord Otto Quorridge, as Melitus had told Aerex earlier. He was the advisor and personal bodyguard to Thea Hellschwert, appointed by the deceased Arch-Duke himself to be her shadow and right hand.

Pleasantries were exchanged between Thea and Melitus, and then she turned to Aerex.

“Tell me, what brings you to Thonrecht truly? I know Melitus here would probably have me believe you are a high-ranking emissary sent with some warning or harsh terms from Jantir. In these times, I find myself speaking plainly, sir. What news from Jantir?”

Before Aerex could respond to the second most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, he was interrupted by the unseen voices again....“The Demon-Slayers of Akod-by-the-Sea--Bex Goldmouth, Mallyne Adrimarch, Segovax the Howler, Zdronvus of Taloc, and here in spirit, but not in presence, the Hound’s Nose.”

The same bunch that Aerex had met earlier at the beach now situated themselves around the table.

“Hail, Thea Hellschwert!” Bex the dwarf announced. “The Demon-Slayers have arrived to do your bidding. Take cheer, for your troubles will soon be no more!” He grinned his famous grin, each tooth capped with gold.

Thea nodded briskly at the fearsome foursome, and returned her attention to Aerex. “So, you see, I have to hire demon-slayers, Aerex Matare. Mere knights and mercenaries will not do. This is the state of affairs here. It has come to this. The gods make us mad.” She gave him a genuine but wan smile and sighed.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#169

Healing quickly for someone who was almost eaten alive by a demodand two days ago, Erund recovered quite nicely, with only a few headaches for company and a discolored arm. Trigu provides the young, Adan thought, with that marvelous ability to overcome shock and trauma, and to thrive, the mind burying the awful memories which could harm its healthy growth. And so it was, that within days of the horrific battle, Erund was his usual sober self, offering thanks to Adan and his band, as well trying to be helpful in any way possible.

The half-ogre and the Rose Knight impressed Erund most, until Adan re-introduced the boy to “Kadarin the Mage” (!) Erund began to pester Kadarin to teach him magic almost immediately, even as Mouse cast dirty looks in Erund’s direction.

--------------------------------

The third morning after the battle, found the companions preparing to depart.

Kadarin was still poring over scrolls and spell-books in the upstairs library, scribing this and that, as Mouse took notes. The jug of black ooze stood on a nearby table, bubbling silently.

Kyrian was grooming Herald, whispering into the horse’s ear, while Vorodon was eating breakfast inside. Adan was lost in thought as always, and surveying the hunting lodge.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#170

Exuberant from his morning run through the woods along Herald's side, and a chilly though refreshing bath (in retrospective, jumping into that mountain lake from full run was not the smartest decision, but that ridge above the water was just so tempting), Kyrian kissed Adan awake and, giddy, ran off to prepare for their departure.

While the hunting lodge had a certain quaint charm, Kyrian could not wait to leave it for a place with more than five people.

Steed prepared, plate polished and donned, luggage packed, he requisitioned a fine lance from the armory, and rolled up a Hellschwert flag and hid it in his saddle bag.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#171

The Flagellants

From out of the woods, appeared people.

Herald nudged Kyrian to look. A group of ten or twelve individuals, all human, were travelling with some purpose though their pace was slow. Stepping into the large clearing, where stood the hunting lodge, the group looked about, seeing Kyrian and his horse.

Though they did not look aggressive, they did look a bit grotesque, and somehow sinister.

All dozen men, wore only white pantaloons, each pair stained with fresh blood. Shirtless to a man, their torsos, chests and backs were completely covered with wounds in varying states of healing. Old scars, fresh, oozing gashes, and discolored bruises, allowed them to seem as if they were clad in some kind of bizarre mail shirts of ripped and twisted flesh. On their feet they all wore cloth-thin slippers. Travelling through woods with such footwear would be painful, Kyrian thought that moment, yet he quickly realized that was probably why these men wore such slippers.

Each man carried a whip, scourge, crop, or or cat o' nine tails. As they walked, they beat their own backs and chests while mumbling canticles beneath their breath.

The last man, the thirteenth, was dressed unlike the others. Clad all in white, head to toe in robe and conical hood-mask, hiding his features completely, he prayed aloud as he walked on bloody bare feet, and spurned on the other men, into an incessant pattern of self-corporal punishment...and walking.

http://www.suite101.com/view_image.cfm/1413910

The thirteen approached slowly, but without hesitation. The Flagellants had arrived.

Kyrian wrinkled his nose. He knew of such sects, the 'self-punishers', they were common in Landeel and surrounding lands. Unable for whatever reason to achieve "true" religious devotion, they practiced self-abuse, attempting to cleanse themselves of sins and impure thoughts. Wandering the land and collecting alms, the undying monks sought worthiness through their self debasement.

Kyrian remembered the words of a one-time paramour just then concerning the Flagellants, "They deceive themselves with notions of piety, but secretly derive pleasure through their pain, I have no doubt."

"Ho, cat-brother!" announced the hooded man in deep baritone. "We pass your lands peacefully. We have no stake in The Feud."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#172

Kadarin looked at the bubbling jug with mixed feelings. It represented power, and death. Without one of those scrolls, he would not even consider calling one of the things here, and probably would not even if he were here.

They were power, true, but Kadarin's heart was not so black that this road appealed. What to do.

He know had cleaner power, battle spells, but they were risky. They would burn though his reserves quickly, but he was no longer helpless. He had even taken the time to charge the ring, placing a fireball in its free slot.

He could have spent longer, going through the library here, but the others were restless.

Erund was a distraction, but perhaps had potential. His possession of a voice both annoyed Kadarin and made it worth while to teach him a little. But he could not stay - Kadarin did not think he would do well.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#173

"Very well, pass on, then - but mind the woods, they are home to bandits, at least one ill-tempered spirit, and who knows when a lustful dryad might pounce an unsuspecting traveller? You certainly would not enjoy the kind of attention it could bestow upon ye."

He had to chuckle to himself. No, certainly the flagellants would not enjoy a fey's attention, bent on their particular brand of madness as they were.

"A nice day to you all, and merry whipping!" he waved them on their way. As an afterthought, the knight added: "Did you stumble upon banditfolk of ill repute, perchance - what other repute could be theirs anyway? They might have some smiting heading their way, upon swift hooves, if you catch my drift."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#174

Aerex nodded gravely. "I have heard, madame, of your troubles. I spoke to these noble slayers just this morning." His fork wandered aimlessly about his plate. A young Constable Matare had gotten a smattering of instruction in polite table manners for the occasional audience with the Dynast's retainers, but the complex rules of which fork to use when and on what meat were always too much for a boy who'd grown up eating mostly bread and porridge. Besides, he figured, these northern folk may have their own peculiar table habits; he didn't wish to offend anyone with rudeness.

There came a small stirring in the back of Aerex's mind. He had his purpose here - a purpose to find a way back to Jantir - but it would be simply unjust to leave these Helleschwerts without offering to help however he could. "I do not doubt the skill of your demon hunter mercenaries," said he, "but perhaps I could offer my own support as well. I was a constable in Jantir for several years, an investigator. Is there something I could do to help alleviate the suffering of your land and people?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#175

Rising from his bed, awakened ever so strangely, Adan could merely shake his head, both at the cat-elf and in order to clear the logginess from his head. The nightmares had remained lodged in his mind, and by now, he slept deeply, save when they came upon him and forced him upright in the middle of the night. Walking to the window, wearing naught but his shorts, he stood before it a moment, his eyes fell upon the flagellants, and he scowled. Once, save for the whip, it would seem that he had been much like them. It would be a far time before he had come completely from that madness.

Drawing on tunic and trousers, and a shirt of steel, however, he began to walk towards the courtyard, letting the dagger settle around his waist on its belt. Stopping at Kadarin, he noticed the bottle, and scowled once more. "It will need to be destroyed, though we must figure out how to do so without releasing it. The ruinous powers cannot be unleashed upon this world." Shaking his head, he continued, "But that is for later, once we reach the Marquis' domain. For now, we appear to have guests from the outside."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#176

"The bandits have been rounded up, ser knight", the Hooded One answered grimly, not taking to Kyrian's light-hearted tone. "Margrave Ashe has them all in detention, three hundred souls if a one, killers and rapists all. The Men-of-the-Wood, the hunters of Theubold's long trail. Detained in his bailey's cold, dank dungeon, soon to be hanged. The woods are cleared of evil-doers"

"Does this estate belong to you?" the man asked Kyrian before departing, "Do you wish to offer alms to thirteen penitent souls?"

The whole time their leader spoke, the dozen shirtless men continued to flog themsleves, oblivious to the conversation. A few drops of blood sprayed Adan's shirt as he neared the group.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#177

Puzzled by the sound of unexpected visitors, Vorodon shambled outside, only to be dumbfounded by the odd display of the approaching penitents. Were they madmen? Hill folk displaying such bizarre behavior would be locked into the smokehouse until hunger and thirst drove the destructive spirits from them. Unnerved by the unfamiliar sight, the massive warrior dropped the polishing rag he had been using and clapped his battered helm onto his head.

Standing well back in case the strange folk turned hostile, the half-ogre examined them carefully. "Who for be you feifle? Why to do harming you? Is be firit attack: Friend have smokehut!" He gestured to the lodge's decrepit woodshed for emphasis.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#178

"Be at ease, friend Vorodon. They do this of guilt and sorrow, and not of the spirits." Stepping past Vorodon, Adan made his appearance outside at last, his expression half one of sorrow, and half one of the deep compassion of one who knows dearly the reasons that a man can be so driven.

The holy symbol of Trigu, speckled with flakes of tarnish, hung from Adan's chest, resting over a surcoat bearing the sun-and-sword of Hellschwert. "Good morrow, brother in Trigu. The Erzherzog is master of this estate, but, this penitent may speak for him at the moment. " For a moment, he looked over the battered group, and his eyes closed a moment, his face contorted in a strange expression, for there, but for the grace of Trigu, went he.

Fingering the holy symbol at his chest, he continued, "I fear that there is little we can grant to you at the moment, but we shall spare what we can. You shall at least be fed, though, I have a thing to ask of you in return. The hand of L'hruk is at play in the Feud, and in the name of our mighty Lord Trigu, I tell you, then, to aid in healing the wounds that he has inflicted. Take your alms, and go unto those injured, and those in need of shelter. Dress their wounds, and build for them shelter. Therein shall lie the light of Trigu, Who shows mercy to those who show mercy to others. The pain of healing, the weariness of building, and to see the shattered lives of those injured by ska shall be thy new penance. You shall hunger, but it shall be because you have given your bread to another, rather than thrown it from yourself. You shall suffer, but it shall be in the stead of another, rather than because you have scourged yourself. This shall soften your hearts, and allow Him to enter within. This, I ask of you in the name of Trigu."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#179

“Lord-brother, you honor us to speak so—“, the hooded man said cocking his hooded head. At the mention of L’hruk, the man etched the symbol of Trigu in the air with his hand, and even the flagellants ceased their mortification.

“Just so, Lord-brother, just so. Demons walk your lands, the Von Hellens, possessed by these demons, siege your castles,” the man paused, casting an eye toward Kyrian, “The people look to Trigu, but He is yet to shine His light. Many suffer; it is true, for we are all drowned in sin, brother, and our skas never far behind us. Your shadow too is near I fear.”

“We can offer you what we can in return for your hospitality, and offer freely to do what you ask. It is heartening to know piety and devotion still exist here, and your words hold wisdom and truth. We will do as you ask”, he repeated for emphasis "But not at the expense of our penitence. Do not look in fright upon our bodies, the bodies are weak, our spirits, Lord-brotehr, are strong. Yet we will do what you ask, for your words hold wisdom and humble us."

“If you wish, Lord-brother, before we partake in your offerings, we can read from the Letter of the Angel together (a chapter in Trigu’s Book, which the flagellants focus their particular beliefs on), and then you can don the cuirasse of coals, Lord-brother, until such time as you deem you have endured enough suffering. I can see the pain in your face, Lord-brother. Sometimes it is better to inflict upon the body, that which plagues the mind.”

The twelve flagellants stared at Vorodon. The Hellschwerts were now allied with ogres. What would be next, they thought

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#180

Charisma: 1d20 : 18, total 18

"My days where I wield the whip upon myself are over, brother. The Lord has commanded me to heal these riven lands, and to deliver the guardians of his relic here from their plight. That devils will try to scourge my flesh as I do so is of no meaning to me, and when it is done, I shall know His peace." Still, he smiled then, letting his own confidence and peace wash over the penitants. "

"I will listen to your reading, brothers, and read as well, though I would offer that we should do so beneath the light of Trigu's sun. Death and darkness have visited this keep of late, and though our steel has vanquished it's fell servant, taint may remain within. Let me arrange for you to break your fast. "

Stepping away, then, to where Erund stared dumbstruck at the penetants, and towards the nervous Vorodon, his face once more level and calm, and soothing. "Friend Vorodon, these men seek to satisfy the guilt that wracks their mind with the pain of their bodies. It is our way to be kind to them, for they are harsh enough upon themselves. Will you and Erund go down to the storehouse, and bring up a barrel each of bread and cheese, to slake their hunger?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#181

The hill warrior gladly followed Erund through the lodge's cramped hallway to the storeroom, where awaited nothing stranger than aging cheese. What hideous guilt tormented those men, driving them to punish themselves? Clearly, this land's haunted forests held cruel and subtle spirits, the unseen ghosts of ancient foes. A pang of homesickness struck the burly half-breed as he hefted a wax-sealed cheese. Such uncanny things were not seen in Vorodon's native hills, where the dead were properly eaten before their spirits could rise to plague the living.

The youth next led Vorodon to the brew room, where covered wooden casks held fresh, foamy ales and ciders. He waited patiently while Erund ladled golden brew into a ceramic pitcher, but while the lad filled the next, an inspiration struck him. Rifling through a rack of spices on one side of the room, he found what he sought: a large jar of salt. Pulling out a handful, the half-ogre sprinkled a pinch of salt across the threshold. Once each of the thresholds were sealed with salt, the spirits of the dead wouldn't dare disturb this place's tenants!

Erund looked puzzled at Vorodon's wasteful behavior, but chose not to question the huge warrior's oddities.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#182

Breakfast with the flagellants was a stolid affair, the men eating silently.

For two hours prior, Adan had prayed with the men, and read aloud from the Letter of the Angel, as the penitents whipped themselves into bloody morning frenzy, outside the dilapidated hunting lodge.

During the meal, one of the men sitting next to the half-ogre, the wounds and welts on his body distracting Vorodon from his generous portion of oatmeal, cheese, and wine decided finally to speak.

“Ogre, what gods dost thou prayeth to? Surely you have felt the warmth of Trigu’s light, by now. Or thou wouldst be eating us instead of the cheese.”

A few smiles passed along the lips of the group, this passing as idle talk and humor among them. Flagellants, as Adan knew, possessed questionable social skills, and spoke plainly at all times.

“Lord-brother, we thank you for the meal and libation. If you travel on to Ashe Keep, know that our sect has a chapter house not far away, a small, humble abode of stone. Know you, that a fair welcome will await you there, should you need respite”, spoke the leader of the men to Adan.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#183

Kyrian merrily ignored the flagellants, strolling outside, enjoying the wind in his hair and the sun's race that seemed so tentatively and hesitantly descend into this land.

While had attended the religious services of more than two dozen different faiths and participated with enthusiasm, and certanly would not tell anyone whom and how to worship, the knight cared little for the flagellants' conception of faith. He was less enthusiastic about the faith of the dagger-and-bloodstained-altar type, true.

Faith had to elevate the spirit, get the vis vitae flowing, to brighten one's day and give meaning. These men did not enjoy their faith, they suffered it.

A ladybug landed on Kyrian's nose as he lay in the grass. He observed it for a while, then it took off.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#184

"I thank you, sir. May forgiveness and mercy find you along your path, brothers." He would see them on their way, and watching them go, Adan shook his head. They were broken men, desperately in need of healing, and he had not the time to tend to them personally. Perhaps in the future he could, starting with the chapter at the March Lord Ashe's, but there would be priorities, and perhaps setting these ones to healing the people of his land in addition to whipping themselves would be the boon they required. Or perhaps a disaster upon the people. It was hard to tell.

Turning then to his equipment, he finished the storage of it within his packs, and donning his steel suit, he hefted the whole weight onto his shoulders. Perhaps this journey would reshape his body as it had been his soul.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#185

Indeed, no fat remained on Adan's gaunt yet muscular form. The endless travel and hair-raising battles had done the job over the lasy few months.

-----

Several hours later, the group gathered outside the lodge. Kadarin was the last out, still reading his magical texts, Mouse following behind to keep up, stuffing parchments and inks into a satchel. Everyone noticed, though no one spoke about it. The young mage had a new air of confidence about him these last few days. Even Mouse seemed less timid.

Vorodon, several wheels of cheese in tow, was ready as well. He was throwing Erund high in the air and catching the boy, much to the delight of the youth, who had taken a liking to the likable half-ogre.

Kyrian had been ready for hours, urging the foursome to depart. As soon as he saw the others emerge, he patted Herald's neck, and began a trot, riding ahead, along another wooded path he had found earlier that morning, while exercising his mount.

Adan, looked back at the family hunting lodge one last time, then turned away and began walking, his packs heavy with supplies.

-----

For six hours they travelled, along the forested trails of Landeel, until they at last paused to eat and rest. While munching on yet more cheese, Erund could not keep silent any longer, and turned to Vorodon. "Ser Vorodon?" Erund had taken to addresing the Volgottoi as 'Ser', "Why did you sprinkle salt in the doorways of the hunting lodge before we left?"

Adan told them it would be some time before they reached the true borderland and his liegeman's keep, as they ate, yet they were making good time this day, and no demons or perytons were around to impede them.

------

As Kyrian neared the pool, Herald suddenly snorted. Glancing at the water, Kyrian could now see that the pool seemed brackish and foul-smelling, which made little sense to him. An odor, not unlike pungent urine, eminated from the still pond.

At that moment, Kyrian spied a wretched creature on the opposite bank thirty feet across the water. Lying there, seemingly too weak to move, was what appeared to be a fey-woman, he noticed, having the eye to spot and recognize such creatures. But this fey was like no other he had seen before. She seemed a starved, ill-looking creature, emaciated, jaundiced and warty. As she spied the mounted rider, the malnourished fey raised a gaunt arm toward Kyrian. She may have been trying to speak, but Kyrian could not hear her half-whispers. Riding around the pond seemed impossible, the woods were overgrown in this spot, the pond a hidden oasis amidst bracken, thorns, and ancient, gnarled trees.

Back at camp, Vorodon was about to answer young Erund, when he noticed something lying in the ground next to his pack. It seemed to be a large wooden spoon, broken in half. The spoon was carved just so, and easily recognizable to the half-ogre. Volgottoi had passed here recently, Vorodon realized!

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#186

Vorodon hesitated to answer his new friend's questions. The spirits of his home seemed so distant in this hostile land… he didn’t want the youth to scoff as the flagellants had. Despite the zealots’ curiosity about his beliefs, they seemed uneasy and hostile when he tried to explain the ways of the Volgottoi. When he described Gora’am, the Purifier, they acted as if the mighty protector of the Volgottoi were just some regional spirit, nothing compared to Trigu. The hill warrior wasn’t sure what to make of their terrifying deity, who drove his worshippers to torture themselves. Perhaps he was too demanding a god for a simple warrior.

“Erund, the sfirit for you land being strange and unfriend. Salt make sfirit fear! Drive ghost sfirit away from friend lodge! Throw on path behind and keep sfirit far.” The massive ogre mimicked tossing salt over his shoulder, then made Erund laugh with his clumsy impression of a fear-crazed ghost trying to flee from the salt.

Then he stepped on the spoon. At first, Vorodon thought he’d broken some item of Adan’s, but when he picked it up from among the dead leaves, he noticed it was much larger than anything his friends carried. More ominously, the spoon’s bowl bore the crudely-scratched image of Gora’am devouring the souls of the weak, an image that only one of the Volgotoi would carry, and something used only when honoring the souls of one’s fallen foes by devouring their remains.

Looking around with sudden concern, the hill warrior instinctively dropped into a fighting crouch, his hand drawing forth one of his darts as he scanned the surroundings for further clues. The local folk would have spoken of other “ogres” in the area, if any had met the creatures and lived.

“Friend Erund, walk quiet. Some things in woods not so friends, Vorodon think. We find Adan and cat elf for to warn now.”

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#187

"If you shift your gaze yonder" Kyrian pointed to the pool to get Vorodon's attention, "there the discerning eye may discover aless-than-classic case of damsel in distress, but a damsel none-the-less."

Wading ito the pool appeared to be wise to avoid, especially given the fact that he'd feel dirty and distressed for days to come. Some might deem it amusing, to Kyrian cleanliness was a matter of grave import.

Jumping down from the saddle, he called out: "I am coming for you ... soon. Fear not!" Rubbing his chin, he looked for a way over dry land.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#188

"Poor timing, but we are on a mission to heal the land. We would be remiss if we overlooked this." For a moment, Adan, too, paused, looking over the wasted lake, then back at his friends, and the oversized ladle held between them. He'd vaguely recalled Vorodon calling one of those crazy things a 'small spoon' once.

"Hnn." The ogrekin were not native to these lands - other humanoids infested the forests from time to time. If there were ogres here, then someone else had brought them there. The question, then, to answer, would be who?

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#189

http://miriadna.com/desctopwalls/forest/max/Magic%20pond.jpg

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#190

Kadarin looked carefully at the strange woman, and a feeling of dread began to tug at him. A trap?

But perhaps the smell was simply that a large number of ogres had availed themselves of the pool, and then did their part to refill it, caring naught for others.

"Take care, the pool may very well harbour something worse then a bad smell."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#191

As they looked around the pond, it was clear that getting across without getting wet would prove difficult.

Eventually, heeding Kadarin’s words of warning, Kyrian carefully but gracefully scraped his way through, under, and over the overgrowth in a semi-circle, and deftly leapt onto a floating log in the pond, but touched the log with his booted toe for a less than a second, leaping again, agile as a cat even in armor, to finally land on the far end of the giant puddle, beside the figure of the fey.

As he neared the forest-woman looked up and smiled, ugly and wrinkled as she was, clad in a gossamer, transparent shawl and naught else.

“Ser Knight, for surely you could be no less; you have come to rescue me? I beg you; undo the horrors that have been done, blighting my home! I die before your eyes, a drying husk, where once I was beautiful. Help me….”

She was a naiad, bound to her hidden pool, of this Kyrian could be sure, but in her current state the fey-woman resembled a creature from the grave.

“Help me” she pleaded, unable even to raise herself, her sickly voice but a whisper. She spoke in accented elvish. “I will reward you richly, with gifts and favors, if you but save me. They have destroyed my home---“

As she whispered she looked up and noticed Vorodon across the pond. For a moment her tiny eyes opened wide, and then she opened her wrinkled, lipless mouth to scream, but lacked the strength for sound. She began crawling, almost slithering, back into the foul-smelling pond on her belly, apparently terrified by the sight of the half-ogre.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#192

Aerex Matare

At his question, Thea Hellschwert thinly smiled. “You have a good soul, Aerex Matare. Perhaps not all Jantirians are as bad, as Lord Quorridge tells me they are--” she cast an eye toward her advisor, then Melitus, who managed to feign a look of innocence. My brother—“she began, and then paused.

“My brother Adan was once a legionnaire in your Empire” she said quietly in a melancholy tone. The rowdy demon-slayers were not paying attention however, busy discussing some past deed of daring among themselves in a boorish manner. Lord Otto Quorridge continued eating his hard-boiled eggs, hearing everything, but saying nothing.

“Well Aerex Matare, we do have a killer on the loose here in Thonrecht. You can put those investigative skills to good use. I have few men to spare to hunt down a wanton, mad murderer just now, if you can believe that. Every available man is on the wall, or heading north to Brightblade Keep. My birth-land is besieged, Matare, your ever-spreading empire to the west and south, and the Von Hellens and their demons to the north. Even my loyal advisor and protector, the good Lord Quorridge here, soon leaves my side to go fight and defend Brightblade, against the armies of Hell itself, as I'm told by Melitus' borrowed terns.”

She paused and took a sip of wine. Lord Quorridge cocked an eyebrow in Aerex' direction.

"So then, out of nowhere comes Seg' here," Bex the dwarf was saying loudly, in between his own raucous bouts of laughter, "Wolf-helm of the never-ending frown! Swinging his sword at the farmer's children, convinced they were truly Hezrou, he was!" more laughter, "and then and then---" apparently no one present, aside from the demon-slayers, would ever know what happened next. Bex doubled over laughing his face turning crimson from the exertion.

Thea ignored the outburst--let them reminisce. Tomorrow they go to kill demons---and looked at Aerex, studying him with her stone-gray eyes.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#193

Aerex listened intently to the woman's story, ignoring the rowdy slayers as best he could. "My patriotism swells to think your brother served in the Dynast's Legions," he says, half diplomatically and half sincere. "And I must say" - he looked pointedly in Lord Quorrirde's direction - "that the Empire is wide enough to contain more than one thought. Certainly not all Jantirians are the same, let alone all Imperials." He looked Melitus over briefly, trying to weigh the man's politics. Matares were known to speak their mind without regard to rank, but only when it suited them. He wasn't about to offend the man who had the best chance of bringing word to and from the capital. "Not everyone in Jantir would even agree that the Empire ought to sprawl the way it does," he said finally. "More than a few parties think the Dynast ought to scale back operations, and a few wish to abandon the idea of empire altogether. As I say, we are a diverse people of diverse thought."

Aerex put his fork down, forsaking with any semblance of appetite. "Now you say you've a murderer on your hands? If the topic isn't too impolite, I would like to know more about this killer. I've dealt with a few murders in the past, mostly small-time stuff between crime syndicates. Perhaps I could lend my expertise."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#194

Matare

At Aerex' polite rebuke Lord Quorridge scowled noticeably and looked away, concentrating on his egg as if it was a king's jewel.

"Well said, Aerex" Thea smiled warmly now, and nodded. "Well said! You and i think somewhat alike. Though there are some--" she tailed off. "I care not a fig for the politics of our lands however, I loathe them" she cast another eye at Melitus and again at Qourridge...

Zdronvus the priest of Taloc Seven Storms made the loudest burp at that moment, Aerex had ever heard. No wait, not true he thought, I have travelled with one, Vorodon of the Volgottoi.

"We don't know all that much" Thea began changing subjects, "A killer stalks the stone corridors and wharfs of our city, prowling by night. Only Hellschwerts and their kin and their liegemen serve as the assasin's targets. I am told I am in danger. I care naught for myself. Most think the killer is a madman. Some suspect the Von Hellen's touch, some even Jantir. But I don't" she paused once more throwing a duck wing into the silver platter a servant was lifting away, as another servant poured wine into emptying goblets.

perception check Aerex. You have a good perception. Roll a 14 or lower on a d20 por favor

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#195

Rolled 1d20 : 16, total 16

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#196

"Oh" was Kyrian's commentary to the naiad's disappearance. Returned to his companions, he slammed a fist into his palm. "Apparently, there are vandals about - they must be found and educated on the error of their ways. That done, we must employ a - well, Kadarin, please share, do the men of the robe or men of the frock possess the power to cleanse water? I personally would prefer a tree-singer or beast-chanter, but you would not tolerate one of them in your blessed land, Adan, or am I mistaken?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#197

"Well, by powers of enchantment, I lack the means to simply draw out the toxins, whatever they may be - I believe that power is held by the preisthood. And to cleanse a volume of this size would be a miracle indeed. Perhaps a great rainstorm could refresh these waters, but Time may be the best cure. I lack, for the time being perhaps", Kadarin smiled, "the ability to call down such a rainstorm. One may come of its own or the God's accord, but likely not fast enough for this being's comfort. Perhaps you could sooth her wounds with some waters blessed by your patron?"

"Barring that, if we could divert a stream of fresh water to here we may be able to help, or perhaps a great volume of charred wood placed within could draw out the toxins. That of course would leave the problem of where to get the charcoal without despoiling the rest of this wood."

Rolled 1d20 : 4, total 4 - Have the Alchemy skill - perchance it would help? Urea was a substance that medieval alchemists were well aware of.. If it is organic contamination, then time is probably the simplest answer - once one has addressed the source of the problem...

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#198

"Wizards and sages do indeed come in handy! I'd wager a modest sum that the same ones who despoiled the lake also dammed up the stream feeding it!"

He leapt into saddle and promted the others: "Onwards! Before the day grows old!"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#199

Alchemy check works out. Indeed, Kadarin can quickly tell, as he examines the pond, that the contamination is of an organic nature, urea and feces, yet also, he notices upon inspection, the water level itself seems significantly low, based on other obvious physical clues.

As Kyrian lept in his saddle, a sudden telepathic voice began to speak to him in earnest. It was the naiad once more, this time communicating from somewhere below the muck of her pool.

She told her tale as best she could under the circumstances, with dramatic flair aplenty, despite her withered state, befitting a naiad.

Ogres had come she said, many ogres, perhaps eight maybe ten or even twenty she could not be sure. Mathematics was not a favored pursuit of the fey, Kyrian knew.

They drank all the water their bellies could hold like parched camels, filled their skins with even more water, her very life-blood (!), and then proceeded to jump into the pool to cool off.

Not finished with their heinous habits just yet, they climbed out, the grease from their yellowed flesh floating in slicks, and proceeded to empty their bloated bladders, for what seemed like an eternity, into the water. As they pissed, she recalled, they spoke of the work they had just done in their guttural and grotesque tongue. Damming the Hidden River that snaked through the vast forest and Landeel’s country-sides (and snaking near Ashe Keep as well, Adan took note). Proud of their work, they had decided to pause here, to enjoy the remaining fresh water of this soon to be dried-out, river-fed pond, before despoiling it with their ignorance and vile natures.

This was too much for the delicate pool to bear, and as the ogres left, for I could do naught but hide in the cat-tails, she bemoaned, her pool began to die, and she, with it. Wrapping up her story, she begs Kyrian once more to take pity and save her, offering gifts and favors.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#200

"That explains much, and so the obvious answer is to eliminate the dam, but we should plan to deal with the dammers as well. Even as few as eight ogres would have us hard pressed in battle, should they come upon us in the act of demolition. "