JollyDoc
Explorer
7 Abadius, 4717 - 1 Calistril, 4717 - "How Did They Get In Here?"
Matthias Harkon was a fanatic, a fact that he was quite proud of. It was his fanaticism that had kept him doggedly on the trail over the last few months. A trail of clues and events that pointed to a vile conspiracy facing Talingarde. A trail that ended in Farholde. And what had he discovered in that small, backwater town? Why, that a great green glowing spire of stone had manifest in the forests beyond the city. Coincidence? Harkon thought not, which was why he now stood in the center of some blasphemous temple facing the followers of Asmodeus.
As Harkon smiled at his good fortune, the teleportation circle behind him flashed again. Turning, he nodded to Thomas who stepped clear of the circle to make way for the others. The young penitent's eyes darted all around, wary and harboring more than a little fear. Good, Harkon thought. He should fear...fear for his immortal soul if he did not rise to the occasion and hold to the pact he'd made to avoid being burned at the stake for his heresies.
"No," one of the Asmodeans spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm that made Harkon want to ram the blade of Wytchbrand down his throat. "You are absolutely in the wrong place."
Kelvin clapped his hands together, arcane words upon his lips. When he pulled them apart again, a small ball of solid ice hovered between them. Thrusting his hands forward, he hurled the ice ball at the pair of trespassers. Thomas's eyes widened and he quickly dove for cover behind one of the nearby pillars. Harkon didn't even try. He held his flaming sword before him, confident that it and his faith would protect him. Neither did. The ice ball exploded in a blast of razor-like shards and numbing cold. Harkon was nearly blown off his feet. As it was, as the air cleared, he was bleeding heavily from dozens of wounds and his flesh was so pale it bordered on blue.
"Nice work," Katarina nodded to her brother. "I'll take it from here."
Thomas watched in horror and disbelief as the dark-haired woman abruptly vanished, and then reappeared right behind Harkon, a wicked-looking blade in her hand, which she promptly drew across the inquisitor's throat. Gurgling and drowning on his own blood, Matthias Harkon, inquisitor of Iomedae, died.
Thomas panicked. Where were the others? They should have been here by now! He leaped to one side as a fireball erupted nearby, narrowly evading the blast. A moment later, however, he felt the sting of a thousand wasps in his back as Kelvin sent a salvo of arcane missiles at him. He stumbled for cover, but then Kat was in front of him, slashing at his belly. Thomas jerked backwards, the blade tearing his tunic but not his flesh. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the circle in the middle of the floor glowing again. Thank Iomedae! He was saved!
When Brother Armand Vyte stepped out of the teleporter, his eyes went immediately to the fallen form of Harkon.
"No!" he cried.
Looking around, he finally noticed Thomas struggling to put some distance between himself and Katarina.
"Fight, you fool!" Vyte commanded. "Fight or I'll send you to Hell myself!"
Thomas, not knowing whom he feared more at that moment, stopped fleeing and instead whirled on Kat. Momentarily surprising her, his short sword managed to score a grazing blow across her ribs.
"Enough!" Kelvin snarled.
His hands flexed like claws as he spat the words to a spell. A circular wall of flame suddenly erupted from the floor, surrounding the teleportation circle and scorching both Thomas and Brother Vyte in the process.
"Yes, that will be quite enough!" Vyte shouted back, ignoring his smoldering vestments as he began to chant a prayer. Abruptly, a burst of blinding radiance emanated from the priest, dazzling Dorian and blinding Kelvin, while searing both of them with its heat.
At that very moment, within the engulfed circle, the ring flashed and a soldier dressed in full plate armor appeared. His tabard bore the heraldry of the Iomedaen inquisition, and he gripped a halberd in both hands. As he appeared, however, the flames from the fire wall licked at him, and he recoiled involuntarily. Kelvin, though unable to see, could hear the soldier's cry of alarm, and he quickly cast another spell, hurling a ball of crackling electricity in that direction. It exploded in a violent coruscation, and the resulting blast killed not only the soldier, but also Armand and Brother Vyte, who were both still standing too near the circle. Kelvin's vision slowly returned, clearing in fits and starts, just as the ring flared one last time, and two more soldiers appeared within the wall of flames. Almost casually, the young wizard tossed a fireball towards them, and snuffed out their lives in an instant.
_________________________________________________________
"What did you find out?" Kelvin asked.
"Knick-Knack communed with Nessus," Tardaesha replied, "and he was able to confirm that there is a fourth teleporter."
"A fact we'd already assumed," Kelvin nodded. "Dorian?"
His brother sat forward in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, an affectation he'd picked up from their father.
"Well, as you know," he began, "I tried to commune with the spirit of the inquisitor, but his will was too strong. I had better luck with the soldiers, but they really didn't know anything. Just following orders and such. However, the other one, Thomas, now he was a different story. Very forthcoming. He was apparently an unwilling ally of the inquisition, merely serving out a sentence to avoid being burned at the stake. He said that their group had arrived in Farholde after following a trail of vicious murders in small villages from Lake Tarik into the Scarden."
"Tiadora," Kelvin growled.
"My thoughts as well," Dorian agreed. "In any event, they came to Farholde upon hearing rumors that some creature or cult was stalking the streets attacking anyone who expressed an interest in the great green glowing spire that had manifested in the Caer Bryr. The inquisitor, Matthias Harkon, had then apparently visited the Abbey of Saint Cynthia-Celeste to have an audience with the abbess. By accessing the Abbey archives, he had found a full account of the Victor's raid upon the Horn, as well as one other thing: he also found information about the teleportation circles, including the fact that one of the circles was not actually inside the Horn, but in a nearby ruin."
"Did Thomas know the activation word?" Kelvin asked.
Dorian smiled. "Zen," he said.
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The members of the Ninth Knot gathered around the teleportation circle in the temple in preparation to travel to the unknown location of the fourth circle. Dakota glanced up as Tardaesha entered the hall, and then did a double-take.
"What does Knick-Knack have in his mouth?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
Tardaesha glanced back at the little cacodaemon hovering behind her shoulder.
"Oh that," she said. "That's just his wand."
"His wand?" Kelvin asked. "Why does he need a wand?"
"He's practicing," Tardaesha shrugged.
"For what?" Kelvin asked, his eyes narrowing as well.
"He can do magic now," 'Aesha said nonchalantly. "He says he's a sorcerer. He wanted a wand."
"But he doesn't have hands," Kelvin replied. "How can he even use it?"
Tardaesha shrugged again. "He holds it with his tail, I guess."
"It doesn't work like that," Kelvin shook his head in exasperation.
"I dunno," 'Aesha said. "It makes him happy."
Distracted by the wand-wielding daemon, Dakota finally noticed the robed figure that now stood behind her twin.
"Who is that!??" she cried, reaching for her bow.
Tardaesha glanced behind her again.
"Oh, that's Oddball," she said. "Say 'hello,' Oddball."
Draped in rags and hunched over on goat-like legs, the creature possessed a featureless face, save for a large eye ringed by fangs. It didn't so much speak as project its thoughts into the minds of the Knot.
"Hello," it said in a voice that grated the nerves like bone on bone.
Dakota winced, covering her ears.
"Where did it...he...come from?" she asked.
"I summoned him," Tardaesha said. "Just like I summoned Knick-Knack. Ordinarily, when I summon a new servant, my former one will return to its home plane, but Knick-Knack decided to stay, now that he's a sorcerer. He says he will serve me until he dies."
She smiled and patted the feral little fiend affectionately. Kelvin just sighed and turned back to the circle.
"Whenever you're ready, Dorian," he said.
_________________________________________________________________
The companions arrived in the midst of several ruined buildings, the circle glowing at their feet. In the distance, no more than a couple of miles away, the glowing Horn of Abaddon could be clearly seen.
"Destroy it," Kelvin said to Roger. "We can't have anymore surprises. Which reminds me: I think we need to pay a visit to Farholde. The White Ravens may have some explaining to do."
____________________________________________________________
"A messenger was sent," Elise Zadaria said in a bored tone. "What more could we do? If we could possibly send a magical message, we would, but whatever is happening in the Horn makes that impossible. You know that. The only thing that matters is that you survived and the mission continues."
"Yes, of course," Kelvin smiled humorlessly. "It pleases me to know that you are so concerned about our welfare."
"Why would I not be?" Elise asked. "After all, our goals are the same."
Kelvin wondered if that were actually true, but he held his tongue.
"Well, it's obvious we need a more efficient way to communicate," he said instead. "I propose that at dawn each morning, Trik use a spell of sending to contact Dorian, who will arrange to be outside the Horn the same time each day. Even if there is nothing to report, we will expect your message."
"Easy enough," Elise smiled. "We are at your service."
___________________________________________________________
Before the Ninth Knot departed Farholde, Dakota insisted that they first pay a visit to Baron Vandermir. The Baron was not exactly enthusiastic about receiving his uninvited guests, but receive them he did.
"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be here," he said. "What if you had been seen?"
Tardaesha tapped the iron circlet on her brow, causing her disguise as an Iomedaen nun to momentarily flicker.
"We are not completely stupid," she smiled. "Plus we let ourselves in through the tunnel beneath the hovel you set aside for us."
"And we won't be here long anyway," Dakota interrupted. "I have only a simple request."
The Baron looked suspicious. "Which would be...?"
Dakota gave him her most winning grin.
"I have an...associate. A young guardsman called Timeon. He once served as a squire at Balentyne, so he has soldiering experience. I would like you to find him a position with the garrison at Hamarhall."
"For what purpose?" Vandermir snapped.
"Because we need trustworthy eyes and ears there," Dakota replied. "That's all you need to know."
The Baron's face reddened momentarily, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly closed it again when he saw Katarina fingering her knives.
"Very well," he said at length. "I will arrange it. Tell him to report for duty tomorrow."
____________________________________________________
WEEK 13
"There ya go, mutts!" Lemmy chuckled, putting the bowls of raw meat down in front of the three hounds he'd purchased in Farholde. "My own special recipe. Eat up!"
The dogs eagerly went to the bowls and began inhaling the bloody meal noisily. Lemmy watched them with a bemused look on his face. After several moments, first one of the curs, then the other, and the other began to cough. Foam formed at the corners of their mouths and they started vomiting violently. Soon, all three of them collapsed to the floor, convulsing for several more minutes before going still.
"Sorry about that boys," Lemmy shook his head.
Kneeling before the statue of Vetra-Kali, he drew out a dagger and slashed each of the dogs' throats, letting the blood flow into the basin before the shrine. Then he waited. It didn't take long. The bodies began to twitch and jerk. Smoke rose in tendrils from their flesh until their fur was scorched black. An instant later, their eyes opened, and they blazed red. All three hounds leaped to their feet, growling and snarling, and when they opened their mouths, flames leaped from the backs of their throats.
"That's more like it!" Lemmy laughed. "Wait 'till Roger gets a look at you lot! He won't think his little pony's so damn fancy then!"
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"Dread Masters," Zikomo gargled, bowing and scraping before the throne.
Kelvin's face was buried in his palm, only one eye showing as it peeked between his fingers. No wonder villains eventually went insane and murdered all of their followers.
"Yes, oracle?" He asked, barely managing to keep the venom out of his voice. "What has gone wrong this time?"
"As Your Omnipotence is aware," the boggard shaman replied, "ever since the Horn began glowing with the Light of the Father, more of my tribesman have been arriving each week, answering the divine call!"
"Yes," Kelvin nodded, "I am well aware, and we are grateful for your tribes' contributions."
"Well...," Zikomo paused for a moment before continuing, "no new recruits have arrived in the past two weeks. I fear something may have befallen them."
Kelvin knew where this was going.
"So let me make sure I understand." He asked anyway. "You want us to go and find out what has happened to your tribesmen?"
"The Dread Masters always see things so clearly!" Zikomo grinned.
"It actually may not be such a bad idea," Dorian whispered in Kelvin's ear. "Elise Zadaria did say she sent a messenger to warn us about the inquisition. Perhaps whatever is responsible for the missing boggards is to blame for that as well."
"Fine!" Kelvin threw up his hands. "Inform the others. We're going on another bug hunt."
_____________________________________________________________
When the Ninth left the Horn early the next morning, they looked less like a band of adventurers, and more like a royal hunting expedition. Roger rode mounted on the back of Carnitheria Rex, while Lemmy traipsed alongside, his trio of hellhounds ranging out before him at the end of long chain leads. Grumblejack strode beside Dorian, bedecked in shining plate armor emblazoned with the symbol of Asmodeus and carrying a mighty greatsword strapped to his back. Tardaesha, not to be outdone, kept her own minions close by as well. Knick-Knack floated happily near her shoulder, while Oddball drifted along in her wake.
Before long, the hellhounds began baying and growling, snuffling along the ground. Lemmy saw that they had found hoof tracks from a heavy horse in the moist earth. The tracks were not hard to follow, and eventually led to a grove of large evergreens. At the center of the grove, in a small clearing, stood a single large tree, with green, leafy vines looping down out of its branches. Abruptly, Carnitheria Rex halted in his tracks. Beside him, Dorian and Lemmy did the same, their faces slack and the hellhounds' leads loosening in the dwarf's grip. Even Knick-Knack ceased his endless bobbing, and simply drifted aimlessly in the air around Tardaesha's head.
"What...?" Roger was about to ask, but that's when things got really weird.
The tree suddenly uprooted itself from the soil and began walking slowly on its tendrils towards the companions. As it did so, one of its many vines coiled itself into a noose and then shot towards Roger, dropping over his head and then cinching tightly around his neck. The big half-orc was pulled bodily out of the saddle and held dangling in the air by the throat, his face going red and then purple.
"Let him go!" Dakota shouted in dismay. "He's mine!!"
She quickly drew her bow and let fly with two arrows. Both struck the trunk of the massive tree, but one of them managed to find a chink in its barky hide and sank in all the way to the fletchings. The tree groaned and shivered, but did not release its hold on Roger. Kelvin hurled a ball of lightning, but the spell just evaporated as it struck the tree.
"Oddball, you know what to do!" Tardaesha commanded.
The dev nodded its cloaked head, then grabbed his mistress by the hand. Both of them vanished in a flash of light, and then reappeared again right behind the hangman tree. Tardaesha already had her sword drawn, and as soon as her eyes cleared, she struck out, the blade biting into the tree trunk over and over again. The tree shivered violently again, and then with a long, low rumble, toppled over. Roger rolled free, gasping and clutching at this throat, his color gradually returning to normal.
Once Roger's wounds were tended, and the effects of the tree's hypnotic spores had worn off, the companions searched its grove thoroughly. For their efforts, they turned up many, many bones, several of them clearly boggard, as well as one clearly equine. Clutched in the hand of one humanoid skeleton, they found a satchel containing a missive from Elise Zadaria warning about a new incursion to the Horn. It seemed the mystery had been solved.
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WEEK 14
A fiery preacher in Farholde named Ezekiel Hawthorn was stirring up trouble in the local churches. He preached a message of unity and resistance against the growing tide of darkness. His sermons specifically mentioned details about the Horn of Abaddon and the wicked deeds being perpetrated there. He spoke of Iomedae-given visions and omens of dark times to come. He even went so far as to advocate forming a militia to storm the Horn. When news of this reached the Ninth via the White Ravens' daily sending, it was obvious to all that this zealot had to go.
It was ultimately decided by the companions that they should let their minions within Farholde, the thugs and rakes of the Vandermir Orphanage, handle the preacher. It would be less conspicuous and not tip their hand too soon. The assassination was carried out with little difficulty, but it didn't have the effect that the Ninth had hoped for. Instead, the priest's death made him into a martyr among his followers, convincing them of the truth of his words. There would surely be repercussions...
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WEEK 15
Two significant events occurred that week. The first, and by far the less significant (unless you asked Roger) was that the anti-paladin finally managed to get his new pet, the dire tiger he'd named Scar, to obey his commands without trying to eat him or disembowel him.
The second event was when the 111th day of the Ritual arrived...the exact midpoint, which required a second sacrifice. This time Dorian did the honors. Sister Marta was brought from the holding cells, bloodied, beaten, but still unbowed, to the altar of Vetra-Kali. Dakota and Tardaesha stripped her of her habit, and tied her naked to the stone. As dawn broke, Dorian intoned the Cursing of the Light, and then cut Marta's heart from her chest and placed it in the bowl beside the statue where the first heart, black and shriveled, still beat, sustained by dark magic. A voice echoed throughout the Sanctum...the same alien and malevolent voice from the first prayer...
"Tezathra Vo! I see!"
The three eyes of Vetra-Kali flared with green light and the Horn trembled. Once again a great beacon of emerald fire erupted into the morning sky, and for the rest of the day the sun's rays were barely seen. That day, the sun failed, and Vetra-Kali's dominion drew nearer.
Matthias Harkon was a fanatic, a fact that he was quite proud of. It was his fanaticism that had kept him doggedly on the trail over the last few months. A trail of clues and events that pointed to a vile conspiracy facing Talingarde. A trail that ended in Farholde. And what had he discovered in that small, backwater town? Why, that a great green glowing spire of stone had manifest in the forests beyond the city. Coincidence? Harkon thought not, which was why he now stood in the center of some blasphemous temple facing the followers of Asmodeus.
As Harkon smiled at his good fortune, the teleportation circle behind him flashed again. Turning, he nodded to Thomas who stepped clear of the circle to make way for the others. The young penitent's eyes darted all around, wary and harboring more than a little fear. Good, Harkon thought. He should fear...fear for his immortal soul if he did not rise to the occasion and hold to the pact he'd made to avoid being burned at the stake for his heresies.
"No," one of the Asmodeans spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm that made Harkon want to ram the blade of Wytchbrand down his throat. "You are absolutely in the wrong place."
Kelvin clapped his hands together, arcane words upon his lips. When he pulled them apart again, a small ball of solid ice hovered between them. Thrusting his hands forward, he hurled the ice ball at the pair of trespassers. Thomas's eyes widened and he quickly dove for cover behind one of the nearby pillars. Harkon didn't even try. He held his flaming sword before him, confident that it and his faith would protect him. Neither did. The ice ball exploded in a blast of razor-like shards and numbing cold. Harkon was nearly blown off his feet. As it was, as the air cleared, he was bleeding heavily from dozens of wounds and his flesh was so pale it bordered on blue.
"Nice work," Katarina nodded to her brother. "I'll take it from here."
Thomas watched in horror and disbelief as the dark-haired woman abruptly vanished, and then reappeared right behind Harkon, a wicked-looking blade in her hand, which she promptly drew across the inquisitor's throat. Gurgling and drowning on his own blood, Matthias Harkon, inquisitor of Iomedae, died.
Thomas panicked. Where were the others? They should have been here by now! He leaped to one side as a fireball erupted nearby, narrowly evading the blast. A moment later, however, he felt the sting of a thousand wasps in his back as Kelvin sent a salvo of arcane missiles at him. He stumbled for cover, but then Kat was in front of him, slashing at his belly. Thomas jerked backwards, the blade tearing his tunic but not his flesh. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the circle in the middle of the floor glowing again. Thank Iomedae! He was saved!
When Brother Armand Vyte stepped out of the teleporter, his eyes went immediately to the fallen form of Harkon.
"No!" he cried.
Looking around, he finally noticed Thomas struggling to put some distance between himself and Katarina.
"Fight, you fool!" Vyte commanded. "Fight or I'll send you to Hell myself!"
Thomas, not knowing whom he feared more at that moment, stopped fleeing and instead whirled on Kat. Momentarily surprising her, his short sword managed to score a grazing blow across her ribs.
"Enough!" Kelvin snarled.
His hands flexed like claws as he spat the words to a spell. A circular wall of flame suddenly erupted from the floor, surrounding the teleportation circle and scorching both Thomas and Brother Vyte in the process.
"Yes, that will be quite enough!" Vyte shouted back, ignoring his smoldering vestments as he began to chant a prayer. Abruptly, a burst of blinding radiance emanated from the priest, dazzling Dorian and blinding Kelvin, while searing both of them with its heat.
At that very moment, within the engulfed circle, the ring flashed and a soldier dressed in full plate armor appeared. His tabard bore the heraldry of the Iomedaen inquisition, and he gripped a halberd in both hands. As he appeared, however, the flames from the fire wall licked at him, and he recoiled involuntarily. Kelvin, though unable to see, could hear the soldier's cry of alarm, and he quickly cast another spell, hurling a ball of crackling electricity in that direction. It exploded in a violent coruscation, and the resulting blast killed not only the soldier, but also Armand and Brother Vyte, who were both still standing too near the circle. Kelvin's vision slowly returned, clearing in fits and starts, just as the ring flared one last time, and two more soldiers appeared within the wall of flames. Almost casually, the young wizard tossed a fireball towards them, and snuffed out their lives in an instant.
_________________________________________________________
"What did you find out?" Kelvin asked.
"Knick-Knack communed with Nessus," Tardaesha replied, "and he was able to confirm that there is a fourth teleporter."
"A fact we'd already assumed," Kelvin nodded. "Dorian?"
His brother sat forward in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, an affectation he'd picked up from their father.
"Well, as you know," he began, "I tried to commune with the spirit of the inquisitor, but his will was too strong. I had better luck with the soldiers, but they really didn't know anything. Just following orders and such. However, the other one, Thomas, now he was a different story. Very forthcoming. He was apparently an unwilling ally of the inquisition, merely serving out a sentence to avoid being burned at the stake. He said that their group had arrived in Farholde after following a trail of vicious murders in small villages from Lake Tarik into the Scarden."
"Tiadora," Kelvin growled.
"My thoughts as well," Dorian agreed. "In any event, they came to Farholde upon hearing rumors that some creature or cult was stalking the streets attacking anyone who expressed an interest in the great green glowing spire that had manifested in the Caer Bryr. The inquisitor, Matthias Harkon, had then apparently visited the Abbey of Saint Cynthia-Celeste to have an audience with the abbess. By accessing the Abbey archives, he had found a full account of the Victor's raid upon the Horn, as well as one other thing: he also found information about the teleportation circles, including the fact that one of the circles was not actually inside the Horn, but in a nearby ruin."
"Did Thomas know the activation word?" Kelvin asked.
Dorian smiled. "Zen," he said.
_______________________________________________________________
The members of the Ninth Knot gathered around the teleportation circle in the temple in preparation to travel to the unknown location of the fourth circle. Dakota glanced up as Tardaesha entered the hall, and then did a double-take.
"What does Knick-Knack have in his mouth?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
Tardaesha glanced back at the little cacodaemon hovering behind her shoulder.
"Oh that," she said. "That's just his wand."
"His wand?" Kelvin asked. "Why does he need a wand?"
"He's practicing," Tardaesha shrugged.
"For what?" Kelvin asked, his eyes narrowing as well.
"He can do magic now," 'Aesha said nonchalantly. "He says he's a sorcerer. He wanted a wand."
"But he doesn't have hands," Kelvin replied. "How can he even use it?"
Tardaesha shrugged again. "He holds it with his tail, I guess."
"It doesn't work like that," Kelvin shook his head in exasperation.
"I dunno," 'Aesha said. "It makes him happy."
Distracted by the wand-wielding daemon, Dakota finally noticed the robed figure that now stood behind her twin.
"Who is that!??" she cried, reaching for her bow.
Tardaesha glanced behind her again.
"Oh, that's Oddball," she said. "Say 'hello,' Oddball."
Draped in rags and hunched over on goat-like legs, the creature possessed a featureless face, save for a large eye ringed by fangs. It didn't so much speak as project its thoughts into the minds of the Knot.
"Hello," it said in a voice that grated the nerves like bone on bone.
Dakota winced, covering her ears.
"Where did it...he...come from?" she asked.
"I summoned him," Tardaesha said. "Just like I summoned Knick-Knack. Ordinarily, when I summon a new servant, my former one will return to its home plane, but Knick-Knack decided to stay, now that he's a sorcerer. He says he will serve me until he dies."
She smiled and patted the feral little fiend affectionately. Kelvin just sighed and turned back to the circle.
"Whenever you're ready, Dorian," he said.
_________________________________________________________________
The companions arrived in the midst of several ruined buildings, the circle glowing at their feet. In the distance, no more than a couple of miles away, the glowing Horn of Abaddon could be clearly seen.
"Destroy it," Kelvin said to Roger. "We can't have anymore surprises. Which reminds me: I think we need to pay a visit to Farholde. The White Ravens may have some explaining to do."
____________________________________________________________
"A messenger was sent," Elise Zadaria said in a bored tone. "What more could we do? If we could possibly send a magical message, we would, but whatever is happening in the Horn makes that impossible. You know that. The only thing that matters is that you survived and the mission continues."
"Yes, of course," Kelvin smiled humorlessly. "It pleases me to know that you are so concerned about our welfare."
"Why would I not be?" Elise asked. "After all, our goals are the same."
Kelvin wondered if that were actually true, but he held his tongue.
"Well, it's obvious we need a more efficient way to communicate," he said instead. "I propose that at dawn each morning, Trik use a spell of sending to contact Dorian, who will arrange to be outside the Horn the same time each day. Even if there is nothing to report, we will expect your message."
"Easy enough," Elise smiled. "We are at your service."
___________________________________________________________
Before the Ninth Knot departed Farholde, Dakota insisted that they first pay a visit to Baron Vandermir. The Baron was not exactly enthusiastic about receiving his uninvited guests, but receive them he did.
"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be here," he said. "What if you had been seen?"
Tardaesha tapped the iron circlet on her brow, causing her disguise as an Iomedaen nun to momentarily flicker.
"We are not completely stupid," she smiled. "Plus we let ourselves in through the tunnel beneath the hovel you set aside for us."
"And we won't be here long anyway," Dakota interrupted. "I have only a simple request."
The Baron looked suspicious. "Which would be...?"
Dakota gave him her most winning grin.
"I have an...associate. A young guardsman called Timeon. He once served as a squire at Balentyne, so he has soldiering experience. I would like you to find him a position with the garrison at Hamarhall."
"For what purpose?" Vandermir snapped.
"Because we need trustworthy eyes and ears there," Dakota replied. "That's all you need to know."
The Baron's face reddened momentarily, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly closed it again when he saw Katarina fingering her knives.
"Very well," he said at length. "I will arrange it. Tell him to report for duty tomorrow."
____________________________________________________
WEEK 13
"There ya go, mutts!" Lemmy chuckled, putting the bowls of raw meat down in front of the three hounds he'd purchased in Farholde. "My own special recipe. Eat up!"
The dogs eagerly went to the bowls and began inhaling the bloody meal noisily. Lemmy watched them with a bemused look on his face. After several moments, first one of the curs, then the other, and the other began to cough. Foam formed at the corners of their mouths and they started vomiting violently. Soon, all three of them collapsed to the floor, convulsing for several more minutes before going still.
"Sorry about that boys," Lemmy shook his head.
Kneeling before the statue of Vetra-Kali, he drew out a dagger and slashed each of the dogs' throats, letting the blood flow into the basin before the shrine. Then he waited. It didn't take long. The bodies began to twitch and jerk. Smoke rose in tendrils from their flesh until their fur was scorched black. An instant later, their eyes opened, and they blazed red. All three hounds leaped to their feet, growling and snarling, and when they opened their mouths, flames leaped from the backs of their throats.
"That's more like it!" Lemmy laughed. "Wait 'till Roger gets a look at you lot! He won't think his little pony's so damn fancy then!"
___________________________________________________________________
"Dread Masters," Zikomo gargled, bowing and scraping before the throne.
Kelvin's face was buried in his palm, only one eye showing as it peeked between his fingers. No wonder villains eventually went insane and murdered all of their followers.
"Yes, oracle?" He asked, barely managing to keep the venom out of his voice. "What has gone wrong this time?"
"As Your Omnipotence is aware," the boggard shaman replied, "ever since the Horn began glowing with the Light of the Father, more of my tribesman have been arriving each week, answering the divine call!"
"Yes," Kelvin nodded, "I am well aware, and we are grateful for your tribes' contributions."
"Well...," Zikomo paused for a moment before continuing, "no new recruits have arrived in the past two weeks. I fear something may have befallen them."
Kelvin knew where this was going.
"So let me make sure I understand." He asked anyway. "You want us to go and find out what has happened to your tribesmen?"
"The Dread Masters always see things so clearly!" Zikomo grinned.
"It actually may not be such a bad idea," Dorian whispered in Kelvin's ear. "Elise Zadaria did say she sent a messenger to warn us about the inquisition. Perhaps whatever is responsible for the missing boggards is to blame for that as well."
"Fine!" Kelvin threw up his hands. "Inform the others. We're going on another bug hunt."
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When the Ninth left the Horn early the next morning, they looked less like a band of adventurers, and more like a royal hunting expedition. Roger rode mounted on the back of Carnitheria Rex, while Lemmy traipsed alongside, his trio of hellhounds ranging out before him at the end of long chain leads. Grumblejack strode beside Dorian, bedecked in shining plate armor emblazoned with the symbol of Asmodeus and carrying a mighty greatsword strapped to his back. Tardaesha, not to be outdone, kept her own minions close by as well. Knick-Knack floated happily near her shoulder, while Oddball drifted along in her wake.
Before long, the hellhounds began baying and growling, snuffling along the ground. Lemmy saw that they had found hoof tracks from a heavy horse in the moist earth. The tracks were not hard to follow, and eventually led to a grove of large evergreens. At the center of the grove, in a small clearing, stood a single large tree, with green, leafy vines looping down out of its branches. Abruptly, Carnitheria Rex halted in his tracks. Beside him, Dorian and Lemmy did the same, their faces slack and the hellhounds' leads loosening in the dwarf's grip. Even Knick-Knack ceased his endless bobbing, and simply drifted aimlessly in the air around Tardaesha's head.
"What...?" Roger was about to ask, but that's when things got really weird.
The tree suddenly uprooted itself from the soil and began walking slowly on its tendrils towards the companions. As it did so, one of its many vines coiled itself into a noose and then shot towards Roger, dropping over his head and then cinching tightly around his neck. The big half-orc was pulled bodily out of the saddle and held dangling in the air by the throat, his face going red and then purple.
"Let him go!" Dakota shouted in dismay. "He's mine!!"
She quickly drew her bow and let fly with two arrows. Both struck the trunk of the massive tree, but one of them managed to find a chink in its barky hide and sank in all the way to the fletchings. The tree groaned and shivered, but did not release its hold on Roger. Kelvin hurled a ball of lightning, but the spell just evaporated as it struck the tree.
"Oddball, you know what to do!" Tardaesha commanded.
The dev nodded its cloaked head, then grabbed his mistress by the hand. Both of them vanished in a flash of light, and then reappeared again right behind the hangman tree. Tardaesha already had her sword drawn, and as soon as her eyes cleared, she struck out, the blade biting into the tree trunk over and over again. The tree shivered violently again, and then with a long, low rumble, toppled over. Roger rolled free, gasping and clutching at this throat, his color gradually returning to normal.
Once Roger's wounds were tended, and the effects of the tree's hypnotic spores had worn off, the companions searched its grove thoroughly. For their efforts, they turned up many, many bones, several of them clearly boggard, as well as one clearly equine. Clutched in the hand of one humanoid skeleton, they found a satchel containing a missive from Elise Zadaria warning about a new incursion to the Horn. It seemed the mystery had been solved.
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WEEK 14
A fiery preacher in Farholde named Ezekiel Hawthorn was stirring up trouble in the local churches. He preached a message of unity and resistance against the growing tide of darkness. His sermons specifically mentioned details about the Horn of Abaddon and the wicked deeds being perpetrated there. He spoke of Iomedae-given visions and omens of dark times to come. He even went so far as to advocate forming a militia to storm the Horn. When news of this reached the Ninth via the White Ravens' daily sending, it was obvious to all that this zealot had to go.
It was ultimately decided by the companions that they should let their minions within Farholde, the thugs and rakes of the Vandermir Orphanage, handle the preacher. It would be less conspicuous and not tip their hand too soon. The assassination was carried out with little difficulty, but it didn't have the effect that the Ninth had hoped for. Instead, the priest's death made him into a martyr among his followers, convincing them of the truth of his words. There would surely be repercussions...
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WEEK 15
Two significant events occurred that week. The first, and by far the less significant (unless you asked Roger) was that the anti-paladin finally managed to get his new pet, the dire tiger he'd named Scar, to obey his commands without trying to eat him or disembowel him.
The second event was when the 111th day of the Ritual arrived...the exact midpoint, which required a second sacrifice. This time Dorian did the honors. Sister Marta was brought from the holding cells, bloodied, beaten, but still unbowed, to the altar of Vetra-Kali. Dakota and Tardaesha stripped her of her habit, and tied her naked to the stone. As dawn broke, Dorian intoned the Cursing of the Light, and then cut Marta's heart from her chest and placed it in the bowl beside the statue where the first heart, black and shriveled, still beat, sustained by dark magic. A voice echoed throughout the Sanctum...the same alien and malevolent voice from the first prayer...
"Tezathra Vo! I see!"
The three eyes of Vetra-Kali flared with green light and the Horn trembled. Once again a great beacon of emerald fire erupted into the morning sky, and for the rest of the day the sun's rays were barely seen. That day, the sun failed, and Vetra-Kali's dominion drew nearer.
