Alair - Holy Wars |
Egia had brought the bones of Sir Tremones out of the ruined monastery, bundled up in the remains of his armour, and now she set to digging him a grave under a pleasant tree. When it was done, she laid him out respectfully - and very surreptitiously slipped the Tandalin signet ring onto his finger. After a few words honouring his courage, they filled his grave and piled a cairn over it.
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As they turned away from the grave towards the comforts of Lortes' neat camp, a feeling that had been gathering in all of them over the last day crystallized for Ghlaads and Hougaard; the feeling of being watched. Glancing around, they saw no-one. Hougaard made an excuse and slipped off into the forest towards where they'd dug their jakes pit, with Cluach the weasel doing the same in the opposite direction, while Ghlaads cast a Detect Magic and located a point of magical energy in the air about 20' above them.
Egia, meanwhile, had called on the powers of her Goddess to help Lortes throw off the vile contagion left by the wounds of the Ghast, much to that earnest young man's relief. Hougaard and Cluach returned, having found no-one near and that the feeling eased about 50' into the trees.
After a while, they sat in a circle eating the last of Lortes' venison stew and making minor repairs to their equipment; Ghlaads was reading Severi's spellbook with interest. Egia looked at Lortes. "Does your master have a spell-caster among his retainers?" she asked. Lortes' brow furrowed. "A wizard? No, not that I've ever seen." Ghlaads looked up. "And he's not skilled in the arcane himself?" she asked. "No," said Lortes, "not that I've ever seen."
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The sensation of observation was becoming aggravating, and after sharing a glance, the three stood and very pointedly waved at the Point of View of their mysterious scrying guest. Instantly the sense of being watched vanished. "Lortes," said Egia, "may we have some privacy?" The youth bowed. "Of course, my Lady," he said readily, and took the washing-up to the nearby stream.
The three adventurers gathered and Egia spoke quietly. "I am not at all convinced," she said, "that the selfish Count Noliss at all deserves to receive what he has asked us to gather; even though it shows that his ancestors were put in charge of a guilty royal secret and made a complete mess of trying to steal it and usurp the throne..." The others nodded, and Egia gathered all the papers they'd collected - the diary, Tremones' scrap, Severi's diary fragments, and fed them into the fire. The ancient paper blackend and curled swiftly, and before long was drifting into the air as scraps of hot ash.
Ghlaads noticed her dagger still stuck through Hougaard's belt, and asked for it back. He hesitated for a moment - it had been useful - but with the spell expired it was just a dagger, and so he turned it over.
Upon Lortes' return to the campfire, they informed him that sadly, despite their best efforts, no evidence had been found in the ruins of the monastery, just a load more undead monsters; and that they'd not be accompanying him back to Count Noliss' hunting lodge. "Our reward was knowing that the scourge has been removed." The youth's face fell. "But surely you'll come back and tell him your experiences?" he said plaintively, clearly seeing his own promotion evaporating as they spoke. "He'll be angry if he doesn't get what he wants." "Is he a harsh master?" asked Ghlaads gently. "No," said Lortes loyally but untruthfully, "he's a good lord, but still I don't want him angry with me."
Normally, paladins do not engage in deceit, and endeavour to keep their given word - although in this case, no promise had been given to return to Noliss with any results - but Egia had deep misgivings about Noliss' likely true motives for wanting this information, and in the light of his treatment of his men, his inability even to remember the name of the unfortunate dwarf craftsman much less to ask the heroes to try and save them, considered him undeserving of any increased favour he might have earned.
Ghlaads felt sorry for the young guardsman, and set down to write a letter to Count Noliss explaining the situation, and praising Lortes' loyalty and courage. Egia glanced at it over her shoulder. "You do realize he's a nobleman, not a cobbler?" she said, pointing out several places the letter could do with improvement, including the need for heavy hints that a sizeable oblation to the Triad church in gratitude for clearing out his summer residence would be very appropriate. Finally it was done and sealed, and handed to Lortes for delivery.
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The next morning, the party retraced its' steps to the place on the road where they had first met Count Noliss. Lortes' path was to take him onward across the road and through the forest to the hunting lodge, whereas the adventurers were to continue down the road to their appointment at Farrox. Lortes halted his horse. "So this is farewell, then, sir, ladies?" he said a little plaintively. Egia nodded, and Ghlaads leaned across from her horse to kiss the lad's cheek - at which he flushed crimson to the hair. "Good luck," she said.
The day was cool and cloudy, but being out of the dank, death-haunted halls of the ruined keep and back under the open sky raised everyone's spirits, and soon Egia began to sing. Ghlaads joined in, and Hougaard produced a small wooden flute to accompany them. The morning's ride passed easily and before long they were clear of the forest and back into the green, pleasant countryside of rural Stryre. Merchants and travellers passed them on the road, as well as the ever-present soldiers, mostly fresh companies of recruits heading for the turbulent border with the Theocracy of Nhased.
On the third day, they stopped at an inn on the edge of a pretty village. In most respects it was very much the same as roadside inns the world over, but a sign behind the bar declared: Chilled Ale 5 coppers, Chilled Wine 6 silver. Proudly displayed at the back was a hefty metal cabinet of wood with a metal door dewed with moisture. "It's a FridgeArator® - an import from the north," said the barman, seeing their expressions. "It keeps the drinks cold." This proved to be true, though Hougaard declined to pay the extra, declaring that ale was supposed to be warm! Ghlaads and Egia spent a pleasant few minutes discussing whether the same could be done with a Heat Metal spell to produce a "HotoBox".
Riding into Farrox, the three looked around. Farrox was a typical Stryran town, well laid out and busy with life. It differed slightly from most other towns of its' size in that a much greater percentage of its' buildings were of stone; the abundant quarries in the country around made it a much more affordable building material than elsewhere.
There were five days to wait before they were to present themselves at the temple of Belisama, so Ghlaads located a good inn for them - the Bronze Sanctum in the temple district. Rather to her amusement - they were far from poor after the adventure of the Immshin monastery - Egia insisted on sharing a room with Ghlaads to keep costs down. Once their bags were settled in their plain but clean rooms, the three headed out into the town on a variety of errands.
Egia despatched a note to the Temple of Belisama to advise that they had reached Farrox and would be attending upon the High Priestess as requested.
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Ghlaads went in search of a local mageguild, but without success. The town had only seven wizards in residence, four of them just apprentices. The senior of their group, Otion, was interested in Ghlaads' offer to sell the unwanted pages from Severi's spellbook, and promised to contact her with an offer in a few days.
Hougaard wandered the streets, looking for an armourer's shop. Farrox was small enough that it only had one, a low building stretching back from the street near the workers of other metals - iron, gold, silver and copper. A forge out the back rang to the music of a busy hammer, but Zalum the proprietor was stretched, feet up, in splendid idleness at the front of his shop, a mug of morning ale in his hand. "Business bad?" asked Hougaard laconically. "No, actually, it's quite good," replied the smith pleasantly. "So many soldiers passing through heading to the war; those who can afford better than the standard issue," the words dripped with contempt, "come for some better gear." He paused, eyeing Hougaard. "So what can I do for you, er, Father?" he guessed. "You don't look like my usual customers."
Hougaard explained that he was looking for reinforcement for his fists. Zalum's face lit up. "Ah, bareknuckle man!" he said. "Well, let's see. I have gauntlets made up, mail-backed or plated...?" Hougaard shook his head. "Then I'll have to cast you something," he said. "Either brass, or light steel," he continued, grabbing a slate and chalk and sketching several designs, measuring Hougaard's calloused fists with his fingers. The Unfettered nodded approvingly. "Make them well," he said, "I plan to get them enchanted later."
Zalum gave him directions to Rowanare, the best bowyer in Farrox, and he made his way there next. The crossbow he'd used in the von Dorenn cellars had been a workable weapon, but it had its' limitations and he wanted to return to the longbow he'd learned to use in his wilderness training. Rowanare turned out to be a chunky woman of middle years, solid as a stump, and after a similar exchange to get past Hougaard's clerical appearance she set to measuring him for a longbow. Her eyebrows rose as she gauged the poundage of his draw. "I haven't anything in stock that will take that strain," she admitted, "but I have several raw bowstaves that will make up to match in about a week." Hougaard agreed a price and left a deposit for the bow and matching arrows, explaining that he'd probably be leaving on the first of second of July.
Having met up with Ghlaads, Egia went to seek a fletcher. Ghlaads restocked her quiver with crossbow bolts, while Egia discussed with the man an idea for a bulb-ended arrow loaded with Alchemist's Fire. Damaryas the fletcher shook his head sadly. "It'll fly like crap," he said warningly, "you won't be able to hit a thing at more than 50'" Egia shrugged. "That'll do," she said. She added some specialty arrows to her quiver - bodkins and bowel-rakers - and they moved on.
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As they rounded a corner, they discovered a rowdy crowd gathered around some central point. They had a hostile air, and as the two passed they realized that two street performers were being taunted and jeered at. For some reason, these two had affected thick white makeup and black clothing, and an act involving silently pretending to walk against the wind or pick flowers. The crowd evidently disliked this, and abuse, ordure and rotten fruit were being thrown to express their feelings.
There seemed no danger of a mimicide occurring, so Egia was disinclined to intervene directly. As they passed, however, she dropped a couple of copper coins into the pair's collecting bowl. A few of the crowd turned sharply to see who it was that disagreed with their criticism, but a glance at Egia with her well-maintained but scarred armour and ready weapons dissuaded them from making anything of it.
As they passed a herbalist's shop, Ghlaads ducked inside and restocked her supply of healing potions, adding one of Remove Disease. After a stop at a tailor's to replace worn clothing, the pair made a stop at the Temple of Belisama to say their devotions, then returned to the Bronze Sanctum for dinner.
On the appointed day, the three presented themselves at the Temple of Belisama for their appointment. The temple was significantly bigger than a town this size would normally warrant, and they looked around at the magnificent building with some admiration as a lesser priest led them through the halls to the audience chamber.
Flanked by paladins of Belisama and Taranis, the High Priestess sat on a throne attended by several minor priests.She greeted them each formally and with respect by name and title, then rose and came to speak to them more personally, asking if there's anything they're lacking or needing. After that she got down to business. "I asked your superiors to recommend one agent each, their best, because I need capable people to do some quiet investigation for me," she said quietly. "Come to my study and I'll explain."
In her cosy, book-lined study, she unrolled a map on a table and started pointing things out. "My concern is with the town of Turil," she began. "It's only forty miles east of here, but that is ten miles too far. As you can see," she indicated recently drawn lines on the map, "the Nhased recently took all that area from our forces and pushed the border back. Belisama knows what's happening to our flock there." She closed her eyes for a pained moment.
"However, what concerns me immediately is a report that reached me just before the area fell. One of the priests, one Ravin, came to us here begging for help. Strange creatures had been seen at night, attacking the townsfolk, and citizens were disappearing. As the citizens disappeared, the number of monsters increased. Only the temple had been spared and the priests were fearful that this wouldn't last forever."
"'Monsters'?" asked Egia, "do you have any more details than that?" Mylnai smiled to acknowledge the relevance of the question. "I expected you to ask. Ravin waits outside to answer your questions."
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Ravin was brought in, a slim, blonde man with high cheekbones, perhaps a bit pretty for his own good once, but still showing the signs of having survived a bloody rough time and been toughened by it. His story matched Mylnai's summary; frightening noises in the night, people disappearing, more monsters and more noises in the night as time went on. No, he himself had not seen the monsters, but those few who had survived doing so described them as humanoid, larger than a man, bestial in nature and approach. The priests selected Ravin to go for help just before the Nhasedans took over the area. He escaped in the confusion after the invasion, having to fight his way out, accompanied by two members of the small town guard who did not survive.
Moving to the map table, Ravin began to sketch a plan of the village, pointing out significant locations; the giant Tower of Anarkos, ancient beyond even the Erlyid Empire in its' inaccessible mystery; the town square and the two taverns; the homes of the village's two noblemen, the knights Fenric and Cornelius; the shrine of Belisama; the businesses of the two major merchants in town - Zelmyr the stable-owner and Braira the saw-miller - both of whom he suspected had thrown in with the invaders. He mentioned a couple of names of people of whom the Nhasedans had made examples.
The invaders had left only a small garrison of around fifty soldiers, as well as a number of priests of The One who were supervising the suppression of the Triad faith and the construction of the new temple.
"So what exactly do you want us to do?" asked Egia. Mylnai tapped the map. "You must go to Turil," she said, "under cover, into enemy territory, and discover what or who these 'monsters' are - and stop them. The perscution of our coreligionists will not last forever," there was a subtle stress on those words that suggested Stryran attempts to take back the area were being prepared, "but I don't want our people there wiped out before that can happen. I can provide passes and documents to get you past the patrols on our side of the battlefield, but beyond that you're on your own."
Ravin spoke up again. "I will come with you as a guide," he said, "though I'll be frank; I'm no fighter. I was only chosen to carry the message because I'm the youngest and fittest of the priests of Turil. But for what it's worth, my knowledge and my spells are at your disposal."
The three fell to discussing what they'd need to attempt this. Mylnai had anticipated many of their requests, and disguises were available; Priests of the One was the most popular option. Hougaard needed little work to make him look like a Nhasedan monk - "there are so many monastic orders devoted to the One that few will recognize them all," said Mylnai - beyond a symbol to hang around his neck. Ghlaads had no external insignia anyway, and priests of the One often numbered arcanists among their retinues. Egia herself would take the role of a fairly senior paladin. The temple's Black Museum, Mylnai admitted, contained several heretical books from Nhased, from which the three could make notes of the sort of dogma the people they impersonated would likely spout.
Ghlaads swallowed nervously. "Will you bless us, your Grace?" she asked, "to keep our faith strong as we go among the heathen?" Mylnai bestowed a formal blessing on themselves, and on their endeavour. She also made a sign to one of her paladins, who approached bearing a bundle. "I have some gifts for you, gifts from our Goddess to aid you in the trials to come." She handed Hougaard a ring, Ghlaads a magnificent tunic with a shimmering pattern strongly reminiscent of flames, and Egia a pair of heavy gloves. "The uses of these," she said, "will become plain with time."
The first day's travel saw the four riding once more through the rich farmlands of Stryre. Each town they passed had companies of soldiers stationed there (mostly in fields outside the town), passing through, or arriving. Each was liveried in the colours of their respective lords - Stryran nobles contributed their forces under seperate banners rather than as part of a centralized army - and some are carefully placed well apart to avoid trouble. In several occasions, there was trouble regardless. "If you fought the enemy, instead of each other," said Hougaard angrily to one squabbling group, "you might stand a chance of winning." The men gazed resentfully at him. "We'll win," snapped a corporal, "We'll be back over there and take back what we lost any day now!" His invective faded as the party rode on, unimpressed.
The second day took them to the battle lines. Military camps began to appear, some showing signs of long occupancy, mostly manned by fresh recruits but with occasional groups of battered veterans. Stryran patrols stopped and checked them several times, but their papers were more than enough to pass them without difficulty. Towards the end of the day, they reached the 'no-man's-land' between the countries, where only occasional patrols were to be found. The countryside looked little different, except when they passed the occasional hamlet, croft or farm; the occasional one was burned out and the rest are empty. No inns were to be found, and they camped in the shell of a burned-out farmhouse.
The next day's travel was across the land scourged by both sides in years of relentless warfare. No buildings remained standing, and many showed signs of being ruined for many years. Once again, a Stryran patrol stopped them, and this time the sergeant was less than convinced of the bona fides of the papers Egia presented. Losing patience, the paladin loomed over the unmounted sergeant. "You will be accountable to the full power of the Church of the Triad if you obstruct us," she grated. The man wilted visibly, and aware of the likely outcome of tackling three expert-looking riders with five half-trained spearmen, waved them on irritably. The party nudged their horses to a walk to pass the patrol, and as they passed the rear, Egia could hear the men sniggering at their leader's discomfiture.
"Sergeant?" she called, turning in her saddle, "These men; they doubt your leadership and my authority. You should have them flogged, or they'll get you killed when you meet someone you should be fighting." The sergeant glared at his men, quieting them instantly, then threw Egia a glance in which residiual irritation was strangely mixed with a measure of respect for her professional approach.
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As they rode away, Hougaard glanced around. "We should leave the road here," he recommended. "We'll meet fewer of either side if we take to the country." The others agreed and he guided them into open country. Over the next few hours, his expertise in the wilderness led them unerringly across country, effortlessly bypassing patrols and skirting settlements, finally bringing them to a campsite under the lip of a crag from which they could see for miles in every direction without being themselves observed.
By the fourth day, they were into territory held by the Nhased, and the destruction was lessening. Three-quarters of the villages and farms were still inhabited if not exactly untouched. Made resilient by the merciless realities of peasant life, common folk were adjusting to life under different rulers, a life largely unchanged except in their religion. Enforced by small garrisons in each place, the shrines and holy places of the Triad were systematically destroyed and new shrines to the singular Nhased deity constructed.
Around mid-day on the fourth day, their path took them into the forest surrounding Turil, and as the light began to fail, Ravin told them that they were around a mile from the village itself.
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The village of Turil was set in a bowl-shaped dell nearly a mile across and fifty feet deep at the centre, in the midst of a space cleared by logging from the surrounding softwood forest. Soaring from the middle of the village's central square was the slender shape of the Tower of Anarkos which soared a hundred and fifty feet from the dell, emerging above the surrounding trees. No-one in this day and age knew how to get into it, who built it, who Anarkos was, or why the village was called Turil instead of Anarkos; the structure was old enough to be pre-Imperial.
Most of this was invisible to the party as they crept to the edge of the forest and looked out across the stumps to the night-shrouded village. Lights glowed in most of the buildings and at one point they heard the sound of marching - a town watch or Nhased patrol - showing that no disaster had overtaken the whole place since Ravin's departure. That worthy pointed to a light rather closer to them than the others, as well as three others spaced evenly around the dell. "Check-points," he said quietly, set on the main roads." Nobody fancied trying to enter the village in the face of known and unknown dangers in the dark, so the party decided to camp in the woods overnight, assume their disguises, and 'arrive' from the East in the morning. Camp was made, and a watch posted.
Late on in the night, as Ghlaads sat watch, a sound came to her from the woods around. Swift and distinctive, it was the sound of a predator moving through the trees - a large predator. She and Egia searched the immediate area, but found nothing, and the sound did not recur.
The next morning, they checked their disguises and their cover. It seemed safer to reject over-elaborate stories in favour of most of the truth - that they had come to investigate reports of attacks by monsters. Neglecting to mention where they had come from seemed a most pardonable sin in the circumstances.
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Session Date: 23rd Jan 2013 |
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