Session 2 (Part III)

The companions cleaned some the mess the prisoner’s interrogation and death had left. As they did that, Bangor explained the Devout’s reference to the so-called ‘Hidden Paths’. He explained that even though the Howling Jackal Clan had severed its ties with the ancestral totems, they still followed the Spirit Way. Only, the spirits they followed were corrupt by the Warp and the rituals they employed were unholy and dangerous. The Hidden Path was a reference to such a ritual that these dwarves apparently used to travel fast, only it wasn’t really teleportation but some vagrant violation of spatial distance.

After a while, the companions resumed their journey. Andrion and Vass continued their conversation. Andrion accused the Repulsar that he was bloodthirsty, to which the knight remarked that he took no pleasure in his actions and merely did whatever was necessary for the common good. Vass said that he never claimed that his actions were right from a moral perspective. But regardless of that he was resolute to use whatever means available to protect the Empire.

Andrion seemed to relent, but requested that from now on they should discuss such things beforehand. Vass compromised on that, but also stated a warning. “Challenge my command in front of the enemy again and there will be serious repercussions.”

Kang’s simple remark on that was “Well, back in my village, when you talk back to the boss…”

Orecius agreed on Vass’ last point. While he made it quite clear that he did not believe in brutal interrogation as he considered it impractical as well as wrong (not only because of a general notion regarding proper treatment of prisoners, but also because—as he claimed—no one is beyond redemption), he nevertheless agreed that from a tactical point of view, Andrion’s rush gave false signals to their enemy and made them appear divided; a major error.

After the conversation had ended, Bangor had this to say to Kang regarding Vass: “You know, that knight reminds me of you—only he’s wiser.”

The companions had left the forested area they were and had now entered what could be described as badlands. Now that the adrenaline from the battle and the interrogation was behind him, Orecius couldn’t stop thinking about his tower. For all he knew, the place was overwhelmed by the Warp or even crushed by the meteor. Thoughts of his family and friends there kept tormenting him. He urged them to move faster and faster.

At some point, Bangor noticed tracks on their way. Some belonged to humanoids, while others belonged to creatures he couldn’t identify. In almost all cases, the tracks seemed to appear out of nowhere and the more they moved ahead, the more these tracks multiplied.

Eventually they could see far ahead of them what seemed to be a dust cloud. It was evident that a large force had been mobilized and their destination was Orecius’ Tower Omniscient—or at the very least that they would pass from there.

Distraught by that, Orecius resolved to lead them through a short cut in a desperate attempt to end up ahead of the force before them. Indeed, eventually they found themselves overlooking Tower Omniscient from the top of a hill.

Orecius was overjoyed at the sight of his tower still standing but this did not last more than a couple of seconds. Unfortunately, he realized, a large force of darkly dressed men had approached the edifice, and they were apparently mobilizing to surround it.

“By the Gods,” the mage said. “I hope everyone is safe.”

“I will pray for their safety,” Vass told him in a reassuring tone.

“With respect, but I fear that what I need of you is your sword and not your prayer,” the mage told him.

The knight smirked. “My sword is my prayer.”

Proceeding with all the haste they could muster, the adventurers managed to reach the Tower’s back entrance before the place was completely surrounded.

Much like with Black Tower, the name ‘Tower Omniscient’ was a misnomer. Omniscient was no mere tower, but a walled castle of resplendent ivory color. It seemed to be carved by a single slab of white marble, but close inspection revealed it to be a truly remarkable work of stonemasonry and you could barely see the lines and gaps between the different blocks of marble stacked together.

“Tower Omniscient stands here since before the time of the Firstborn Empire,” Orecius had explained earlier. “It was a fortress of the Ancients, long before the Curse turned them into the stregoni. My great-great-grandfather, Hermes Loreweaver, claimed it and in time the Ascended King officially recognized House Loreweaver’s ownership of the fortress.”

The companions hastily entered the courtyard and were greeted by Orecius’ servants.

“It is good to have you back, milord,” the servant said with a bow.

“Is everyone alright?” Orecius asked anxiously. “Are the children safe?”

“Everything is exactly as you left it, milord,” the servant replied.

“Where is my granddaughter?”

“Lady Maleena is with the children. Everyone else is at the Grand Hall.”

Orecius took a deep breath. Everything was in order in his domain. “Very well,” Orecius said with a decidedly calmer tone. “Take this girl here,” he motioned to Isabella. “Escort her to Maleena.” The wizard then turned to the little girl. “Isabella, this is my home. You’ll be safe here. This man will take you to meet the other children.”

“Thank you gran’pa,” the little girl smiled. “Thank you for everything.”

“The rest of you,” he said to his companions. “Follow me.”

The adventurers did so and all of them made their way towards the Grand Hall. The castle was filled with narrow—one might even say claustrophobic—hallways. Despite its evident massive size, it seemed it lacked large spaces altogether.

“Wise Old Man,” Kang spoke, “what is this place?”

“This is a school of magic,” Orecius replied. “A licensed school that is,” he added with a meaningful look towards Vass.

“By Tir, I’m not here to make an inspection, Orecius,” the paladin replied.

“What sort of magic do you teach here?” Andrion asked.

“We focus on the Arcane as well as Ritual Magic,” the mage replied. “But my main priority is not minor magelings. Here we train wizards, swordmages, bards, artificers, and we even help those born with the gift of sorcery come to grip with their powers.”

“No warlocks?” Rasvahn asked.

“Practicing the power of the Eldritch Pacts is prohibited,” Orecius replied sternly.

“Not vestige pacts,” Vass remarked.

“Indeed, but I don’t trust warlocks either way,” the mage said.

“Wise man,” said Vass with a smile.

“I have noticed,” Bangor spoke up, “that your ‘Tower Omniscient’ oddly seems to be smaller on the inside than what one would think looking it from outside.”

“That is quite true,” Orecius said. “As I said, Tower Omniscient is a place most ancients and it holds many secrets. And though I know more than most, even I don’t know them all.”

“Well, this place gets my seal of approval,” Bangor said.

At that point they reached the grand hall. Before them was an array of about a dozen scholars, mages, and other assorted individuals.”

“It is good to see you safe,” one of them said.

“The feeling is mutual, Jerome,” Orecius told him… Told me.

Yes, dear reader. I too am part of this Chronicle. Though I am merely a satellite whereas they are the planets and the stars are the vicissitudes of fate pulling us all in and holding everything together with their gravity.

“This is Jerome DeLuntier,” Orecius said and introduced me to the men who defined our time.

“Give me a thorough status report,” Orecius asked me.

“Well, as I’m sure you noticed, your predictions were accurate. The Blood Moon did occur. The meteor shower spared most of the surrounding area, but then these riders appeared.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

“Three of them approached the castle and claimed they were on a pilgrimage,” I explained. “They asked to enter the tower to rest and resupply. I, of course, denied them that request.”

“You did well,” said the wizard. “They are Devout.”

“Yes, I noticed their symbols.”

“We need to contact Toran,” Orecius said.

“But milord,” I told him surprised, “we can’t.”

“What do you mean we can’t?!”

“I thought you had realized by now,” I began to explain, “the warp from the meteor shower, it has distorted magic itself. I’m afraid magical communication does not work aside from close range. That’s why we weren’t able to make contact with you these last two days.”

“Damnation,” Orecius exclaimed. “I had not realized that. We were given a mission from High Commander McKenzie in Black Tower. We are to investigate the largest meteor that crashed to the south of here.”

“Yes, we saw it streaking overhead,” I told him.

Orecius rubbed his forehead for a few moments and then looked at me again. “Jerome, do you know of Sophia Renauld?”

“Yes of course,” he replied. “I know her personally. I have reasons to suspect that she is Devout, but aside from her eccentric plays I’ve not been able to stumble into any hard evidence, despite my recent visits to her manor in Heathglow.”

“We’ve passed by her manor,” Orecius said. “Let’s say we found some quite compelling evidence that proves it.”

“You encountered her then?” I asked.

“No, she was long gone by the time we arrived. Isabella told us she went to Black Tower. I believe she and her Devout collaborators did something to cause the Blood Moon.”

“Isabella, sir?” I asked.

“You said you went by her manor, I imagined you’d met her.”

“Met who, milord?” I asked intrigued.

“Isabella,” the mage explained, “you know, the little girl. Renauld’s handmaiden. Blonde, pigtailed and with freckles.”

“Milord, I was in Renauld’s manor less than two weeks ago and I saw no one with that name and matching that description and trust me, I was on the lookout to note anyone present.”

Orecius’ jaw dropped at my comment while Vass unsheathed his blade.

“I knew there was something off with that kid!” the knight said. “We need to hurry.”

“Yes, we must!” Orecius said and turned around.

“What is going on?” I asked him.

“We brought Isabella here,” Orecius replied hastily. “I’ve been such a fool! My instincts told me something was wrong but I ignored them! She tricked us into thinking she’s just an innocent girl. And now I led her within right within Omniscient. Jerome, place the castle on full alert; we’re going to find her.”

“I don’t understand what the fuss is all about,” Andrion spoke up, “she’s just a little a girl.”

“I’m betting you she’s not,” Vass told him as they rushed away. “In fact, I’m willing to bet she is Sophia Renauld!”

“Again, she’s just a kid,” Andrion said.

“Magic, Andrion,” the knight mocked him. “Magic. She transformed.”

The companions quickly made their way towards the hall where Maleena was supposed to take care of the children. On their way there they found a dead body. It was the servant’s; the same servant that Orecius had escort Isabella to Maleena. On the floor next to him a symbol was drawn with his blood.

“I know this symbol!” Vass said. “For the past week I’ve been seeing it in my dreams.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Orecius said. It was quite apparent to everyone that anxiety had once again gripped the old wizard. His thoughts kept racing around the safety of the children and of Maleena as well as someone else…

In moments, they reached the room were Maleena and the children were supposed to be located. The gruesome sight arrayed before them sent chills down their very bones.

The children were dead. The room was altered. Vine-like protrusions had covered the walls like a lattice of interwoven strands of rotten flesh. Each strand ended in a sharp point and on the end of each such point, a child was impaled. Mystical sigils were drawn in various places in the room while at the center of the room the same abominable symbol was drawn.

“Welcome to my world,” Vass said to Andrion. “This is why I do what I do.”

Kang grabbed Bangor by the shoulders. “WHO DOES THIS TO CHILDREN?!” he yelled, shaking the dwarf violently. Vass and Andrion stared at the jiax, puzzled by this odd outbreak. Orecius on the other hand was frantically searching the room for Maleena until at last he spotted her in a corner in a pool of blood.

Everyone rushed towards her. She was a young—and very beautiful—woman in her early twenties, and she was seriously injured in her abdomen by what appeared to be claws.

“Andrion, Bangor!” Orecius demanded. The runepriest and the shaman used their magics immediately and the woman’s injuries closed and her bleeding stopped.

“She’s going to be alright,” Andrion said. “But it’ll take awhile before she regains consciousness, and it couldn’t hurt if a proper physician took a look at her. Magic can only get you so far.”

Orecius did not respond. He held Maleena to his chest and appeared to still be in shock.

“Orecius,” Vass called out. The old man did not respond. He kept hugging Maleena and was whispering to himself.

“Orecius, pull yourself together,” Vass spoke up.

“My precious child,” Orecius whispered to Maleena.

“Orecius,” Vass said with a softer but firm tone and touched the wizard on his shoulder. “These people need you. Your people. You must focus.”

The wizard barely registered Vass’ words. The paladin shook him. “Orecius!”

The mage finally lifted his gaze to the paladin. He looked at Maleena again and placed her on the floor softly. Standing up, he gave Vass a grim look. “They’ll pay,” he whispered. “I’ll burn them all to Hell.”

“Good,” Vass said. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Everyone get ready. We’re going on a seek-and-destroy mission.”

“I think I like the sound of that,” Kang said and pulled his fullblade.

“When we go up against the monster that did this,” Vass told the jiax, “and you get that rage of yours, think of those children.”

“I will.”

“Let’s move out…”

Session 2 (Part II)

The captured dwarf was severely injured, but Bangor and Andrion healed him at Vass’ behest. He was still unconscious however which gave the companions time to gather their horses as well as the corpses of their attackers. The dwarves were bald and their skin was ashen. Bangor identified them as members of the Howling Jackal Clan.

“…These bastards,” he explained, “turned stag on the rest of us ages ago. We banished them from the community because their ancestor spirits starting acting in direct opposition to the Spirit Way. As a result, our dwarven Totem Clan Spirits abandoned them. Their spirits have since been tainted by the Warp, and as a result the entire clan is now unclean and steeped in darkness.”

“What are they after?” Vass asked.

“Generally speaking, the ruination of the Totem Spirits,” Bangor replied. “But aside from that, who knows? They’re insane.”

“They appear to be covered in strange tattoos,” Rasvahn noted. “Know what they mean?”

“No, they don’t ring any bells,” the dwarf replied. “But I make it a habit of not dealing with the unclean symbology of these rotten bastards,” he added and spat on the ground.

“Orecius might know,” Vass added and waved for the wizard to approach.

The Chronomancer was keeping himself busy with little Isabella. His primary concern was calming her down as no doubt such carnage would have frightened her to no end. To his horror, the girl was rather calm and explained to him that her life with Sophia Renauld was not devoid of brutal spectacles.

By the gods, Orecius thought, what horrors has this girl been witness to, to retain her calmness in such times.

Heeding Vass’ summons, the wizard left Isabella for now and approached the pile of corpses. After studying the strange tattoos, he was ready to deliver his findings.

“Yes, I think I can understand something regarding these symbols,” he said. “I cannot be certain, but the lines, their strange angles and overall symbology, suggest that these tattoos signify one who belongs to a cult devoted to the Great Old Ones.”

“You speak in riddles, Wise Old Man,” Kang said.

“He means that they’re Devout,” Vass said and spat on the ground. “Can’t say I am surprised, in all honesty.”

“It would be naïve of us to assume that the Blood Moon would not attract their attention,” the wizard said.

“It would be naïve of us to assume that they are not responsible for the Blood Moon,” Vass added.

“Indeed,” the wizard confirmed. “This whole situation reeks of the Devout.”

“Orecius,” the knight said turning to him. “Get the girl a certain distance away from here.”

“She can’t see us from where I left her,” the mage told him.

“I’m also concerned about what she’ll hear,” Vass said and looked at the unconscious Jackal dwarf.

Orecius felt his stomach go into a knot. He understood what Vass was talking about. “Very well,” he said and left.

Vass grabbed the tied Devout and placed him in a sitting position on the wagon. “Wake up,” he said slapping the dwarf.

The dwarf soon regained consciousness. He growled when he saw his adversaries over him.

“Good morning,” Vass told him.

“Fuck your mother!” the dwarf told him in his native tongue. Vass looked at Bangor quizzically.

“You don’t want to know,” the shaman responded.

“Well,” Vass went on, “as I was about to say, I am going to ask you a few questions. It behooves you to reply. Honestly.”

“Fuck you and your horse,” the dwarf told him in Havnorian common; the King’s Tongue.

“See, that’s precisely the kind of attitude you should avoid from now on,” Vass went on unfazed.

“Stick your flashy sword up your ass, Repulsive Knight,” the Devout continued laughing.

“Taint the Repulsar name like that again, and you will have serious survival problems. Now, first question: what are you doing here?”

“Loitering, jerkweed.”

At that point Vass punched the dwarf at his testicles. A chilling howl escaped the Devout’s lips.

“In case it wasn’t made clear to you,” the knight said, “if you do not answer my questions, I can and will make this extremely unpleasant for you.”

The dwarf opened his mouth to voice another insult but he still couldn’t speak from the paladin’s strike.

“Again, why are you here?”

The dwarf spoke again in his native tongue.

“More insults,” Bangor said.

Vass sighed. “Predictable as always,” he muttered to himself and drew a dagger from his belt. He raised it to the Devout’s face.

“What are you doing?” Andrion asked the knight. Vass did not reply. Instead he continued talking to the dwarf.

“Why are you here?”

“Foolish man, you think I’ll talk?” the Devout asked him.

“Yes, I do,” Vass replied.

“Or what? You’re going to kill me? I piss on your mother and father! Kill me, you think I fear death?”

“It’s not death you should be afraid of,” Vass responded and stabbed the dwarf on his left knee.

The dwarf howled again, his scream sending shivers to Orecius as he struggled to keep Isabella’s ears closed.

“What are you doing, stop this!” Andrion demanded. Vass continued to ignore him.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” The knight demanded.

“We knew Repulsars would be coming. We were going to kill you,” the Devout said between gasps.

“Who’s ‘we’?”

The Devout began to mouth dwarven obscenities at the Repulsar. As a response Vass repeated the question and when he got no response he twisted the knife. The dwarf screamed yet again and at that point Andrion got up and pushed Vass aside.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Andrion asked.

“Extracting information, what do you think you’re doing?” Vass asked annoyed.

“Putting an end to this madness,” Andrion exclaimed.

The paladin narrowed his eyes. “I should remind you, your Highborn, that you are not in Stregonia anymore. This is the Firstborn Empire. You nearly sprouted tentacles a few hours ago and your continued survival is entirely founded on the fact that we don’t know what to make of you.”

“They attacked us first, White Face,” Kang cut in.

“I don’t care,” Andrion replied. “And you, Draracle, you’re a paladin, you can’t go around torturing prisoners.”

“As I said to your father yesterday, I’m not that sort of paladin. Now stand down.”

“No, you stand down,” Andrion was adamant. Next to him, the Devout started laughing.

“This isn’t a debate,” Vass said. “Out here I’m in command and you either fall in line or you can go back to Black Tower. You have no authority or jurisdiction here, Baron Von Montarius.”

“I can’t let this go on. There must be another way.”

“What do you think this man is?” Vass started yelling. “You think you can reason with Devout!? This isn’t a prisoner of war or a bandit. This is a cultist wholly devoted—body and soul—to dark forces that are poised to consume our world. He is not expecting any reward. His soul will be consumed by whatever monstrosity he worships whether he succeeds or fails and he knows it. You can’t talk him into giving you information, or threaten him with death. The only leverage you’ve got against a Devout is pain or trickery. And since I’m not that good with trickery, I’ll use the only other means available to me. Now get out my way,” the knight concluded and pushed Andrion aside.

“Back in my village,” Kang said, “pain accomplishes lots of things.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Vass demanded again of the dwarf.

Meanwhile Orecius had heard the conflict between Andrion and Vass, and the latter’s words had given him an idea.

“Isabella,” he said to the little girl. “I want you to keep your ears closed and stay here.”

“That’s all right, gran’pa. I’ve seen and heard much worse back home. Mistress was talking about discovering the limits of the human body. So, I’ve seen decapitations, flaying, mutilations and other things I don’t know how to describe. I’m used to it.”

Orecius just couldn’t find words to respond to this. This poor girl, he thought, had been through so much. He left Isabella and sneaked around the wagon. His companions could see him but his main concern was not be seen by the captive.

“Jackal,” Bangor spoke up, “you should do well to respond to the knight.”

“You filth,” the Devout said in dwarven, “I do not listen to the likes of you, totem-slave!”

“My servant,” a hollow voice was heard and its origin seemed to be the Devout. Up in the wagon, the adventurers could see that Orecius was performing some sort of magic. “Fear not these maggots, servant. Tell them everything! Tell them of the Architect of their destruction!”

It was plain to the adventurers that Orecius was trying to trick the Devout.

Bangor took advantage of the bluff and pushed for more answers. “Who do you serve?”

The dwarf did not reply and Vass pushed the dagger with is boot. The dwarf grunted and Orecius kept goading the prisoner.

“Have them wallow in terror of the one who will rule their doom!”

“My master,” the Devout responded in dwarven, “is beyond your puny reach. The Blood Moon hails his return, and all you will be consumed!”

“Helgore?” Vass asked as Kang kept translating.

The Devout nodded.

“What of Sophia Renauld?” the Repulsar asked.

The Jackal dwarf did not reply. Bangor repeated the question.

“Weak totem-slave, the end of you and your accursed spirits is coming!” the Devout replied defiant.

Bangor called forth his spirit companion. The ghostly wolf appeared next to the prisoner and he in turn hissed in fear and surprise.

“What of Sophia Renauld?” Bangor asked again and mentally commanded his companion to approach the Devout.

The Jackal dwarf yelled in fear and turned his face away from the wolf. “Take that thing away from me!”

Vass pushed the dagger with his boot once more. “Answer the question!”

The dwarf finally broke. “Renauld,” he said, “she thinks she’s in charge. Let her. She’s nothing more than a servant as well. But she’ll have her fame back, oh yes, she will.”

“Is she in Black Tower?” Bangor asked. The prisoner’s reply was affirmative.

“What is Carcosa?” Vass asked.

“Soon, you’ll find it. You’ll find it south.”

“How did you get here?” Bangor asked.

“There are secret paths, we used those,” the Devout explained with effort.

They kept asking him questions, Orecius kept goading him, and Bangor kept using his wolf to unsettle him.

The Dwarf did not answer. Instead he went into a tirade of boasting. It soon became apparent to the companions that they got everything they could out of him.

“Whatever you do, you will fail!” the dwarf yelled. “You will not stop HIM.”

“Who’s gonna stop us?” Kang asked.

“I’m but the weakest of us. We will crush you.”

“You certainly are the weakest,” Vass boasted. “You were nothing but dirt under my boot, just like all Devout.”

“Keep laughing, Repulsar,” the captive said. “I will go to my masters now and assure them of victory. This world is theirs.”

“Then let your masters know something else about this world,” the paladin said. “It. Is. Defended! We’re done here. Kang.”

The jiax pulled his fullblade and brought it down with one swift motion, decapitating the dwarf.

“Dammit, Kang,” Vass protested. “I didn’t mean kill him inside the wagon…”

Session 2 (Part III)

Session 2 (Part I)

“I still don’t understand why we didn’t fight those crazy humans,” Kang Razorfrost complained from within the wagon. “And you, Wise Old Man,” he continued turning to Orecius, “why didn’t you burn the village when the Brave Knight told you to?”

Orecius sighed. “Those poor souls had an affliction. Something similar had happened to Lord Andrion here, and yet he recovered. I believe in redemption and would not kill an entire village just like that.”

“Bah! Back in my village,” Kang retorted, “we kill sick animals.”

The companions were making their way towards Tower Omniscient; Orecius Loreweaver’s domain. As they moved through the crater-laden landscape, it was fast becoming apparent that whatever unearthly and unholy corruption the meteor shards held, it was spreading. It was as if the shards had sprout tendrils much like the roots of a tree and were worming themselves deeper into the soil. The soil itself was a disgusting sight; it had turned a grey color and its shape was made to resemble wrinkled skin. Even more disturbing was the strange slimy goo—which Vass couldn’t help but note that it looked like pus—that covered many parts of the ground, particularly near the small craters. The Warp was taking root in Havnor and everyone knew how serious this was, though none dared to say it out loud.

“Draracle, lookout!” Rasvahn suddenly warned.

Ahead of the wagon, Andrion, Orecius, and Vass rode in formation. Rasvahn’s warning had not come in time as the three riders’ horses tripped on a rope that was strung as a trap. The horses toppled, and so did their riders.

Then, from the bushes and trees that covered the sides of the old road, seven short, cloaked, hooded, and stocky humanoids emerged. They wore strange bladed bracers. These odd contraptions came with both a wrist-blade and a second, longer blade protruding from the elbow. In addition, a small crossbow was attached on the top of each bracer, which the odd looking enemies immediately used.

Kang Razorfrost roared as he jumped off the wagon, just as Rasvahn was stopping it (and just in time, an inch closer and the horses that pulled it would trample the fallen riders). Arrows whizzed by his ear but the jiax drew his fullblade from his back and fearlessly took the offensive. His swing missed as the creature—a odd looking dwarf as he came to realize—swiftly evaded with what Kang would describe as superhuman reflexes.

There’s something you should know about the jiax mercenary called Kang Razorfrost. He gets angry. Yes, there are warriors who can enter a berserker state to fight even more fiercely, but the term ‘berserker’ would be too tame to describe Kang’s bouts of fury. Kang was a barbarian in tune with the primal spirits. When he gets angry, it’s not just him who becomes enraged. An inhuman spirit—every bit as furious as the jiax—quite literally possesses him, giving him supernatural powers ordinary warriors could only hope to match. The jiax was still, nominally in control. Which is to say he could barely contain himself.

And that’s exactly what Kang did the moment his enemy dodged his attack. He got angry. A panther’s roar was sounded though none could discern its origin. Kang’s eyes flashed red, his veins bulged, and the dwarf before him could swear his saw a spectral panther appear out of nowhere and leap within Kang. It was also the last thing he saw; Kang’s next swing—more a blur than a swing—cleaved him in half in a fountain of blood.

Orecius was on the ground, but unharmed. Noticing two hooded dwarves coming for him, the wizard rolled away and hastily got up. Just as the dwarves were ready to strike, Orecius slammed his staff on the ground while yelling strange words. A red shroud emerged from the mage’s staff and enveloped the dwarves. Their clothing burst into flames and the stocky men screamed in terror and pain.

Rasvahn drew his own blade, a wave-edge shaped greatsword, and quickly took a step back, stepping within Bangor’s shadow. The revenenant literally fell into the shadow and disappeared, only to emerge from Orecius’ shadow, much to the latter’s surprise. With a quick trust, Rasvahn struck one of the two dwarves that threatened Orecius. Just as Rasvahn’s flammard blade drew blood, Orecius’ own shadow, as well as Rasvahn and the other dwarf’s shadows rose and struck with clawed hands as the hapless dwarf. Needless to say, the dwarf died without knowing what hit him.

A ghostly wolf appeared out of nowhere next to the surviving assailant that was on fire. This was the spirit companion of Bangor Winterhowl. Through his shamanistic link, Bangor made the wolf bite at the dwarf’s throat. The dwarf fell dead with a half his neck torn.

Meanwhile two dwarves had flanked the fallen Draracle and were desperately trying to kill him. The paladin had managed to pull his shield. His skill with it and his heavy plate armor protected him from most of their attacks but he was injured—injuries which he healed using the power of his prayers.

Next to him, Andrion got up as soon as he could. The dwarves would strike him, were they not covered in a nimbus of holy light, the result of Vass’ own magic. The moment the dwarves tried to deal with Andrion, the light that had covered their bodies seared their flesh while an unearthly feeling urged them to strike the paladin to the exclusion of anyone else.

Andrion knew his comrade was using the cornerstone of a paladin’s magical training, the so-called Divine Challenge, to keep the attention of their enemies on him and away from his comrades. He did not let that go to waste. Getting up, he raised his gigantic hammer and extended an arm to the paladin. A mystical rune appeared before Vass, and his remaining injuries disappeared. Then with a mighty swing, Andrion crushed one of the assailants’ skull.

The remaining dwarf retreated and Vass got the opportunity to get up. And then a feeling of unease overwhelmed the hooded enemy. Up until that moment, the paladin had not even unsheathed his blade. Until that moment. Vass raised his ancestral sword to the sky. “Karnas Radamar!” he yelled and in recognition to the old command, the blade burst into light, a light the dwarf knew would be his doom. “Tir!” Vass prayed. “My blood for your might!”

The paladin’s body was covered by a red aura that caused him pain. The aura almost immediately left him and covered his radiant sword. Vass then rushed towards the dwarf and struck a blow at the dwarf’s shoulder. The slash was so ferocious that the dwarf almost exploded to pieces as the Sword of Volaran struck the ground, cracking the old stone-paved road.

There were only two dwarves left, and both were cornered by Kang. As the raging barbarian did a short work on one of them, the other saw an opening. Turning into what looked like a flaming shadow, the dwarf ran through Kang, Vass, Andrion, and almost Orecius as well, who only at the last moment ducked away along with Isabella who had joined him by that point.

The dwarf then ran with a speed the companions had never seen a dwarf run before.

“Where are you going, you coward?!” Kang roared and went after him—his own speed matching that of a racing horse.

Vass ran towards the fleeing horses, while Rasvahn got back up the wagon and started to turn it around in order to pursue the fleeing assailant.

Andrion and Orecius hopped on the wagon, while Isabella was left behind now that it was safe.

The wagon sped after Kang who was way ahead by that point.

The chase went on for a few seconds but the barbarian (and the cart behind him) was quickly gaining ground. Finally, the mercenary leaped ahead of the dwarf and swung his blade at him, striking him at his left shoulder. The dwarf hissed and backed off, simultaneously throwing a vial at the incoming wagon.

As the vial hit the cart, noxious fumes were released.

“Rasvahn stop the wagon, everyone get off!” Vass yelled as he just approached the area on his own horse. Something in the commanding tone in the paladin’s voice had a profoundly motivational effect on everyone who promptly did as he said.

The knight sped off towards the dwarf who had changed course and was running towards the wood in an attempt to evade his pursuers—with Kang on his tail.

Vass got to the fleeing dwarf first and thrust his blade at him. The blade did not draw blood, but a strange sort of force held the dwarf in place.

“I want him alive!” Vass said at the incoming Kang who struck at the dwarf with such ferocity that suggested he did not heed the knight’s request.

The dwarf’s feet did not listen, but his arms did. He flayed his wrist-blade wildly trying to hit Vass and Kang. The latter simply dodged while Vass casually used his shield to protect not him, but his horse. Ultimately, the dwarf’s panicked rampage was ended by Andrion’s mordenkrad. The runepriest carefully struck the enemy at the chest, knocking him out cold.

“There,” Andrion said. “He’s alive.”

Vass surveyed his comrades. “Good job, everyone. Now let’s see what this one knows…”

Session 2 (Part II)

Session 1 (Part VII)

The group could not see signs of corruption in the scared girl looking at them behind the window. Rasvahn took the girl outside but she seemed scared of him, at which point Vass approached her. The sight of an armored knight seemed to appease her and Vass placed her on the wagon with Bangor and Kang. After a brief introductory conversation that among other things suggested that the girl was sane—for the most part anyway—and that she was the only person on the manor (and had stayed there out of fear of the villagers) the group left.

The girl—a freckled, blonde, pigtailed 11-year-old—identified herself as Isabella, the Lady Sophia Renauld’s servant-girl.

“Sophia Renauld,” Orecius mused as he, Andrion, and Vass rode ahead of the wagon, “I believe I have seen a play of hers. She is a playwright. Didn’t know she lived here.”

“Me neither,” Vass admitted. “I know of her too. She’s supposed to be under house arrest.”

“Why is that?” Andrion asked.

“It makes sense,” Orecius said. “The play I’d seen was a satirical story regarding—among other things—the Ascended King’s love life. In that play he romanced several deities, among them Sis, a goddess most dark and forbidden. I know that raised the ire of the Ascended King’s court; however I didn’t know they had placed her under house arrest.”

“It wasn’t the story you just described that did it,” Vass explained, “but her next one. I only know its title was ‘Carcosa’ and she was branded a heretic for writing it. All the actors and producers involved in it were executed, but Renauld had many fans within the court, so his Majesty merely detained her.”

Though he tried to hide it, Andrion’s body language showed a great interest in Renauld’s story.

“I did not know that,” Orecius said with a grim look on his face. “What you speak of, your Highness, is most dire. I have heard the word ‘Carcosa’ before. I know not what it is, but what I do know is that one of Helgore’s titles is ‘Lord of Carcosa’.”

Vass looked at Orecius surprised. “You sure about that?”

“I assure you, I do not make mistakes regarding such matters,” the wizard replied.

“This is some coincidence,” Andrion said, “a heretical playwright who wrote about Carcosa—something connected with the Blood Moon—in such close proximity to the one place that, according to Orecius, the Blood Moon is best visible.”

“Well, I don’t believe in coincidences,” said Vass.

“Me neither,” Orecius concurred. “Baron Von Montarius, from what I understand you too are a scholar. Would you happen to know anything about this Carcosa? Perhaps some books in Stregonia might have information that I have no access to here in Havnor.”

“I know nothing regarding Carcosa,” Andrion flatly replied and with that statement seeds of descent were sown, for Vass Jaquel Draracle was the best amongst them in picking up lies, and he knew with great certainty that what Andrion Von Montarius-Dragomir had just said was indeed a lie. However the knight chose not to voice this suspicion to the group but resolved to keep an eye on the runepriest.

After making sure that they were a safe distance away from Heathglow, and the villagers’ torches were no longer visible, the Immortal Lords-to-be slowed their pace. The three riders surrounded the wagon. It was time to have a deeper conversation with Isabella.

“Little Isabella,” Orecius asked, “can you please tell me when did the villagers start to behave strangely?”

“I’m not sure, gran’pa,” she replied. The girl was no longer scared. “I think about a week or two ago.”

“So, the eclipse didn’t cause this,” Andrion noted.

“And where is the Lady Sophia now?” Orecius asked the girl.

“She left for Black Tower yesterday,” the girl cheerfully replied.

“She shouldn’t be able to, there should be guards to stop her,” Vass said in the language of Ancient Havnor. He didn’t want the girl to understand him and so he spoke in a language that he assumed Orecius at the very least would understand. The wizard nodded but both were surprised by Isabella’s reaction who laughed.

“You speak funny!” she said. “Just like my mistress does.”

“Why did your mistress go to Black Tower?” Andrion asked.

“She didn’t tell me, mistress never tells me anything,” the girl replied, “but I listen when she talks to others or to herself.”

“She talks to herself often?” Vass asked.

“Well, more often than others in the manor.”

“And tell me, little Isabella,” Orecius said, “what sort of things have you heard her say?”

“Well, that she is anxious and excited that her old friend is coming—at least that’s the one thing she most often talks about.”

“And do you know who that friend is?” the wizard asked with a mellow voice.

“I’ m sorry gran’pa. Even as I was telling you this, I’ve been trying to remember his name but I can’t.”

“Weren’t there guards stationed at the manor?” the duke asked.

“My mistress poisoned them a month ago,” Isabella replied with such simplicity that it shook everyone.

Vass gritted his teeth. “Something tells me that this Sophia Renauld is tied to this whole ‘Helgore’ business.”

“That’s IT!” the girl exclaimed. “That’s the name! ‘Helgore’! That’s my mistress’ friend!”

Orecius sighed. “My dear sweet child, I fear that your mistress has done something horrible.”

Isabella lowered her head. “I know, gran’pa.” she said sadly. “I’m afraid of her. She is not a good person. Will you please protect me?”

“Of course, child,” the old man replied with a fake smile in an attempt to hide his worry. “With us you are safe. Nothing can harm you while we’re with you.” It didn’t take Vass’ superior insight to know that the wizard was lying.

“Orecius, Andrion,” Vass called out. “Ride ahead with me.”

The three of them galloped several feet ahead of the wagon.

“I fear,” the wizard said, “that Sophia Renauld is a cultist.”

“I figured as much,” the paladin said. “Is it possible that this woman did something at Black Tower that may have caused the Blood Moon phenomenon?”

“Obviously the triple eclipse was a natural phenomenon,” the old man replied. “However, all other events surrounding it could well be the result of dark rituals and this Sophia Renauld may very well be the instigator—or she is in collusion with the instigators.”

“So there must be cultists in Black Tower right now,” Andrion said.

“There is also another thing that disturbs me,” Orecius commented. “Officially, Black Tower is supposed to safeguard this part of Havnor, but if one considers its location and the fact that Black Tower and Aracorn Fortress are built on the only two openings that lead to the Desert of Bleached Bones, then you can see that its location is far from optimal. In other words, these two fortresses were built for different reasons than what the public is told.”

“Your point being?” Vass asked.

“When I confronted Commander McKenzie about it,” Orecius explained, “he more or less threatened to execute me. And now we learn that Renauld is there as well.”

“You know as well as I do,” Vass said, “that McKenzie’s reaction was typical of a Repulsar. Doesn’t mean he’s a cultist too. As for the true reason behind Black Tower’s location, I’m afraid that’s the first I hear of this.”

“We shall see,” Orecius said. “The more time goes on, the more worried I become of my people at my castle. We must make haste.”

And with that the companions focused on their journey…

Session 2 (Part I)

Session 1 (Part VI)

As the group began to make the final arrangements for their trek, certain logistic challenges cropped up. Kang Razorfrost was too heavy for a riding horse to carry him and his longtime dwarf companion, Bangor Winterhowl was no friend of horses himself either. The Black Tower could not spare warhorses which would be strong enough to carry Kang. Ultimately they resolved the matter by having a wagon drawn by two horses. The wagon would be driven by Rasvahn and along with provisions it would carry Bangor and Kang. Andrion, Orecius, and Vass would ride on their own horses.

Orecius could not be sure how long it would take them to reach the point of impact of the large meteor that passed over the fortress but extrapolated from its trajectory that it should take them a few days. They had decided (much to Orecius’ appeasement) that they would make a stop to his tower. With all that taken care of, the men left Black Tower.

And so, the individuals who would become known as the Immortal Lords began their first adventure together.

During the journey the companions did not talk much. Andrion and Orecius exchanged some theories regarding the Blood Moon while the rest listened in, some out of genuine interest, while others due to not having anything better to do.

A few hours out of Black Tower, the devastation was starting to become visible. The meteor shower had left the area around the fortress mostly untouched, but the more the adventurers travelled onward, the more they saw its effects on the land. Tiny pieces of what they assumed to be lunar rock littered the area in small craters. Many of these craters were still on fire, but the fire itself was most unnatural. It was of a crimson red color and did not seem to emanate heat, or much light for that matter. Orecius tried to ascertain its nature and deduced that it was saturated with energies common to the Warp.

Trees were cut down by the small meteors, and large tracts of land were devastated. Even if one was to ignore the magical implications of the Blood Moon, the shower had wrought more than enough damage to make this event one that stressed special attention.

At some point the travelers stopped to better examine the lunar pieces. They noticed that they were cool to the touch and of a strange substance. While their outward appearance was stony, the material was malleable like soft clay. However you could not rip it apart—in that regard it was more like rubber. Orecius took a sample to study it in his tower.

About a day later they reached Heathglow; a small community of about a hundred and fifty farmers. The community essentially consisted of a series of small houses with thatched straw roofs which littered the countryside. The village was situated on the eastern base of a hill and on top of the hill the men could see a manor. Orecius and Vass admitted that though they knew of the community they never paid much attention to its comings and goings and thus could not tell who the lord of that area was.

While they approached the village they could see people coming and going but as soon as they passed what one might consider the village’s edge, the people rushed off locking themselves inside their homes, shutting their windows and shutters. By the time the adventurers were passing by the village center, the streets (muddy paths really) were completely empty.

“Not very friendly, are they?” Bangor commented.

“Hold on,” Andrion said. “Can you hear that?”

“What?” Orecius asked.

“Sobbing,” Bangor replied instead.

“Yes, I can hear crying and not just from one house,” Andrion confirmed.

“I can hear it too,” Vass said as he dismounted.

“What are you doing, Lord Draracle?” Andrion asked. “We should be on our way.”

“Gut feeling,” the paladin replied, approached the nearest house and knocked on the door. There was no response but he could hear gasping sounds from within. “Open up in the name of the Ascended King!” Vass demanded.

“Hush, they’ll go away soon,” Vass could swear he heard from within the house.

“There’s something fishy going on around here,” the knight said to the others.

“Is it our problem?” Kang asked and Andrion seconded the question.

“I don’t know yet,” the duke replied and then went to the next house and knocked on the door again. “I’m a Repulsar Knight on the authority of the Ascended King. Open this door!” Again he heard similar sobbing coming from within the house. “We are here to help you,” Vass added. “You have nothing to fear—the meteor shower is over, you are safe,” he elaborated. Still no response.

“People don’t want you here,” Kang commented, bored.

“People cannot just choose not to want a Repulsar in this Empire, jiax,” Vass replied and looked at the door thoughtfully. “Rasvahn,” he called out. “Would it be too much to assume you can pick a door lock?”

The revenant smiled and got off the wagon. He approached the door and produced a set of lockpicking tools from his belt. “Only be a moment,” he said and indeed in three seconds the door was unlocked.

Vass opened the door only to have someone from within slam it to his face. Vass cursed and kicked the door so hard that it opened with such force that the person holding it closed—a woman as it turned out—was shot tumbling away on the floor. Rasvahn and Vass could see within the small house now, and aside from the young woman there was also one much older poor lady. Both were crying and were obviously in a state of great fear.

“Yes, an excellent job to appease them,” Andrion remarked but Vass ignored him. He could tell there was more to this.

“There is nothing to fear,” Vass said. “I am a Repulsar Knight, you are safe.”

“We are safe?” the old hag asked. She must’ve been in her mid-90s.

Vass tensed. He could tell something was very wrong, but all he could see was scared people. “Everything will be alright,” he said in a calming tone.

“You hear that, young one?” the old lady said. “Everything will be alright.”

“Everything will be alright,” the younger woman repeated and stopped crying.

“Everything will be alright,” the hag repeated in what Vass could swear was a mocking tone of voice.

“Yes, no reason to worry,” the young woman said.

“No reason to worry at all,” the old woman added, and punctuated the statement with a shrill laugh.

“Oh, fuck,” Vass said and pulled his shield from his back and placed his hand on his sword’s grip.

“Hi hi hi hi hi hi,” the hag laughed, “no reason to worry,” she said as she stood up. “Come here brave knight,” she said and extended her arms.

“We got Foulspawn, here!” Vass yelled to his comrades.

“How did you reach that conclusion?!” Rasvahn asked him and then noticed the hag’s fingers twisting, extending, and warping into tentacles. “Oh, never mind.”

Orecius could hear doors opening from houses all over the village. “Your Highness,” he said, “purging this village is not our mission, we have more important tasks.”

“I will protect you, wise old man,” Kang said standing on the wagon.

“No, Orecius is right,” Bangor said, “I think we’ve outstayed our welcome here.”

Vass wanted to stay and fight the abominations, but Orecius had made a valid point. A series of priorities, plans, contingencies, and information raced through his head. It appeared these two creatures in front of him were not the only warped aberrations—the whole village had succumbed to the Warp, likely a result of the Blood Moon. Vass was capable and as far as he could tell so were his comrades. Fighting an entire village of Foulspawn did not entail guaranteed success but he reckoned they had what it takes, but probably not without losses that he could not afford so early in the mission. Furthermore he was in no position to be aware of any innocents in the area. As the women slowly approached him, Vass boiled down the entire situation into two choices: fight the village, or move on to their main objective.

Official Chronicles paint a legendary battle in Heathglow. How the Immortal Lords faced off against a village of monsters and prevailed. As I’m sure by now you’ve noticed the pattern of my Chronicle, things did not go like that in reality.

Vass decided to follow his companions’ suggestion. Before the crazed and warped women could reach him, he closed the door and went for his horse as Rasvahn ran to the wagon.

Kang sighed and slumped back down inside the wagon. “Great,” he said to Rasvahn, “follow the brave knight,” he said mockingly.

The group sped away from the village. Behind them they could see villagers with torches and pitchforks. They had no chance to catch up to the horses of course.

“I’m making a note to order a purge for this place,” Vass said as they rode away. “Orecius, spark some fire on a rooftop.”

Orecius didn’t heed the paladin’s command but Vass did not push it. The group made its way to the manor.

“Question,” Rasvahn said, “after the warped village, are we to also investigate the creepy mansion?”

“Since we decided to conveniently ignore this problem,” Orecius said riding, “it would be rather erratic of us to get inside that place now wouldn’t it?”

“Yes it would,” Vass said, “And we can’t exactly barricade ourselves inside there. There’s currently nothing for us here.” His statement was rendered obsolete the moment he noticed a little girl signaling them for help from a window on the ground floor. Vass sighed. “Then again,” he said and pointed towards the window.

The group halted its advance and everyone carefully studied the girl.

“She seems normal,” Andrion noted.

“Looks like our priorities just shifted,” Vass stated.

“Agreed,” said Orecius. “Abandoning crazed villagers to their own devices is one thing, but we can’t just leave a normal girl helpless here.”

“Rasvahn, with me,” Vass said and approached the window.

Session 1 (Part VII)