Episode 02
Bogged Down
So it was that several factors came together and an adventuring group was formed. Inga and Skullringer found Hilde who had Gjord with her. Xerk spotted Inga and decided she was the sign from his deity and joined the group. Nanjuk found Gerhardt and together they found the group with the two clerics.
The adventurers began heading North to Norgate along the great Trading Road. A small detour to one of Hilde’s favorite Inns at Beardon’s Hollow turned out to be costly to the group’s travel time. A typical coastal storm blew in and poured down a deluge for the better part of two days.
Enmar the Innkeeper shuffled into the group’s room and brought them their clothes, dried and pressed. “I’m afraid I have bad news, the storm has flooded the road. No traveling today. A few folks from town are being sent over to the old Isendale home. I hear there is plenty of damage there. There are also rumors of attacks from the bog, but that seems unlikely. A few extra volunteers over there would probably be appreciated and help speed travelers along.”
“Oh, of course Enmar,” Hilde remarked. “We would be delighted to help in anyway possible.”
“Hey,” Gerhardt protested. “What do you think you’re doing Sister! You don’t just go around offering my services.”
“Don’t mind the youth,” Hilde pointedly stated, “We will head there quickly.”
Gerhardt started to protest again, but a sharp elbow from Nanjuk stopped him. “This could be to our advantage,” the dwarf whispered. “It will give us a chance to case the place for valuables.”
…..
The adventurers headed north and passed a cranberry field. Towards the far end of the field was a man of the cloth on a small hill above the flooded fields. He was wrapping several bodies in burial linens. The chubby priest stood up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He gave a friendly wave to the group approaching.
“A cleric of the
Messenger*,” Nanjuk noted aloud. “Let’s hope this guy is not from the Inquisitor Order.”
“He’s not,” Xerk replied.
Nanjuk kicked himself for the comment. The followers of
Marrkidia and the Inquisitors were on friendly terms. He did not know what Xerk’s attitude was about those overblown do-gooders, but he should have known before making that comment.
“What are the Inquisitors?” Gerhardt asked.
“They keep order in the Realm and stamp out deviant cults,” Nanjuk quickly offered.
“They are over-exuberant zealots and Nanjuk was rightly concerned,” Xerk added.
Nanjuk smiled and relaxed – just a little bit.
No one had noticed that Skully had broken into a jog and was running towards the priest.
“Skully,” Inga called, but the big half-orc continued on. The priest looked frightened and began to take up a defensive posture. Inga broke into a quick stride, attempting to catch up and called twice more.
“You kill these?” Skullringer asked the priest.
“Oh no,” the Priest almost laughed. “They all washed up from the bog during the storm.”
“Who kill dem?” Skullringer asked again.
“Well, I do not know my friend,” the Priest began cautiously. “I suspect a good number of them died of disease and others drown. Most of them have been dead for decades.”
The rest of the group arrived and heard the Priest’s last words. “Greetings holy father forgive Skully here. He is learning the ways of our culture,” Hilde stated.
“Sister, he gave no offense. He was just asking fair questions. All of these bodies washed up during the storm. The bodies drift up from the old city, deeper in the swamp,” he stated. “My name is Father Denethan by the way.”
The group was introduced by Hilde.
“Father, what is the old city,” Xerk asked.
“Years ago our fair little village was located farther to the North. Weather and attacks from a great Black Dragon conspired to sink the place into a bog. The remaining villagers moved to this current location. Whenever there is a storm many corpses float up from the old city and our found in these farms.”
“Whose farm is this?” Inga asked.
“Jaiman Burnean,” Father Denethan answered. “Which reminds me, Sister Hilde would you mind looking at Jaiman? He has an infection on his arm that I am uncertain of – perhaps you can diagnose it?”
“Certainly Father,” Hilde answered. “Can I help consecrate the graves for these poor souls as well?”
“Alas Sister, that is not possible. I only have a few of the records from the old city. I am not certain of who they all are despite their burial markings. If I had the proper records we could lay them to proper rest. But, let’s not dwell on what we cannot do for the dead, and let’s see if you can do something for the living.” Father Denethan motioned for Hilde to follow him.
The whole conversation had fascinated the barbarian, Inga and she followed the pair into the farm house.
A young man started to get up as the trio approached his bed.
“Lay down Jaiman,” Father Denethan ordered. “Show this Sister your arm.”
Hilde closely examined the injured forearm. It appeared to be a large black bruise turning green and moist in the center. “How did you get this wound?” she asked.
“I was trying to save my crops from the storm that had blown up. Bodies began to wash up from the bog as they often do. There was more this time than ever before, so I started to drag them to higher ground. As I was pulling the bodies to higher ground something splashed up next to me and made a horrible moaning noise. It hit me in the arm here and I ran. I bolted all of the windows and the doors until daybreak.”
Hilde smiled at the young farmer. “Father Denethan is right to have you resting. You must fight this infection with all of your might and pray. I will look in on you tomorrow or the next day.”
Hilde and Father Denethan turned to leave and worked their way past Inga. “Father, you have sent for a higher order priest I assume?” she asked.
“Actually, I just sent a boy to Derlon to fetch my Bishop,” Denethan answered. “What do you think it is?”
“It is tomb rot, a supernatural malady for which you and I have no cure. It requires a higher prayer for a cure.”
“I feared it was a supernatural disease of some sort. How long does he have?” Father Denthan asked.
“Not long. The disease moves rapidly. Let’s hope your Bishop moves quickly on the request,” she answered.
“Amen Sister, Amen.”
…..
“Hey,” Gjord called out, “Sister Hilde come check this out.”
She worked her way over to the ranger’s position at the edge of the cranberry field. She looked at the ground around the ranger. “What is it Gjord?”
“A trail Sister, and it is heading due north,” Gjord answered.
The group followed Gjord’s lead and went straight to the Isendale Home. Men were working on a damaged front door. Following brief introductions the adventurers were brought into the house and met with Eural Dunaman, Head Councilman of Beardon’s Hollow and Haiman Gaith the Chief Constable. Sister Hilde introduced the group and they sat down to discuss the events of the previous evening.
“Interesting company you keep Sister. I did not know the Earth Mother’s Daughter condoned associating with half-breeds,” Constable Gaith commented.
Skullringer stirred.
“The faith welcomes all,” Hilde replied. “Perhaps you could tell us what happened last night councilman Dunaman?”
“There is not much to tell. In the early morning hours there was a loud pounding at the door. Suspecting the worst I ran up to the bell in the tower and rang the alarm. The pounding stopped soon after this.”
“What do you think it was?” Gjord asked.
“Lizardmen, or perhaps the Swamp Witch,” Dunaman answered. “I am taking no chances I shall spend the evening at the chapel tonight.”
A servant came into the room with a number of bags. “I’ll tell you it reminded me of the night the Isendales were taken.”
“Yes, of course, Loriann thank you,” Dunaman stated dismissively.
“Please tell us,” Inga asked.
“Well, Sethellen and his wife were the last of the Isendales and I served as their housekeeper and hoped to serve as their nanny as well. About ten years ago Lord Sethendale awakened me in the dead of the night. I knew something was wrong because he was putting on the black dragon armor his grandfather passed down. He told me to ring the alarm bell. I ran as fast as I could and rang that bell for all I was worth.”
“But they were gone,” Inga offered.
“Yes,” Loriann responded. “The councilman figured Lizardfolk, but I don’t know I have never seen one in the fifty years I have lived here.”
“We must get to the chapel before four so I can prepare supper Lord Dunaman,” Loriann stated.
“Yes, of course Loriann,” Dunaman replied. “Won’t you excuse us?” Dunaman motioned for the adventurers to leave the house.
Outside the house the workman had nearly finished fixing the door. Gjord looked the area over. “The trail continues north from here,” Gjord told the rest.
“Something is not working for me in this whole thing,” Hilde thought aloud.
......
“I kill Gaith,” Skullringer whispered to Inga.
“He will wait,” Inga replied.
…...
The trail led into and around the swamp. Gerhardt questioned if Gjord knew what he was doing, but the ranger ignored him. Light was beginning to fall away and as dusk approached the prospect of camping in the swamp did not appeal to anyone. Gjord suddenly stopped. “This trail seems different,” he announced to the group.
“You lost the main trail?” Gerhardt asked.
“I’m not sure, but it is possible this is something else. The signs are not matching. It’s pretty tough to tell in this muck,” Gjord answered.
“What’s that?” Nanjuk asked pointing ahead.
The swamp gave way to a firm hill. A large rock covered with vines was on one side of the clearing and a well-spaced set of rocks in a semi-circle surrounded the rock. Smoke floated up from an opening at the base of the rock.
“Swamp Witch?” Xerk asked.
“Possibly,” Gjord answered. “Look at that clearing. It’s been swept clean. Very odd, we need to be extra cautious.”
“Caution for cowards,” Skullringer roared. He sprinted into the clearing towards the opening in the rock.
A vine whipped into the clearing from the rock and wrapped around the half-orc’s neck. Skullringer smashed his club down on the plant, but could not sever it. He fell to one knee as it began to choke the life out of him.
to be continued…
*
Messenger is the patron deity of the Olde Realm.
