Cerebral Paladin
First Post
This storyhour is set in the same world as "Aphonion Tales," but this party adventures on a different continent. The storyhour is first-person and biased. It focuses on my character in the game and his actions and reactions, without trying to fairly describe the actions of the other characters. I do add occasional editorial comments in square brackets, either because I think they will amuse or to clarify the storyhour. I'll also occasionally add sidebars to explain background information that the narrator assumes. The storyhour is also fairly dark and includes mature content; while the narrator is still LN, I suspect that the story will eventually be of his fall into evil, although what brand of evil is unclear. But then, that's usually the fate of diabolists.
Setting copyright the DM, 1975-2008. Storyhour copyright the author, 2006-2008.
The Journals of Konrad Jagger, Licensed Diabolist
The regulations of the Holy Temple of Paranswarm, Lord of Orderly Darkness, may He bless us with a place in His Order for the world, require that all licensed diabolists make regular reports to the Society of the Hands of Hell and to the priesthood. I have been unable to report to either since the fall of my homeland of Caldefor, some seven years previous. I would present myself for examination, but I do not know where any representatives of the SHH are in the aftermath of the intaking, nor where I could find a priest of the Orderly Darkness in these lands dominated by the followers of Glor’diadel. Without any better recourse, I keep this journal, that I may record my service to the Orderly Darkness and the service to which I put the fiendish servitors of Lord Paranswarm that I summon from the Hells. I hope that the Temple will find this record sufficient when I can submit to proper supervision once more. If not, I shall accept any punishment that the Temple decrees, for any failure must be mine alone.
My last orders were to defend the lands of Caldefor against the Shadow that surged against them. We failed, and Caldefor fell to the Shadow. Indeed, even now it is passing through the Shadow into the Abyss itself. But our orders to defend the land remain, and so I serve with the Eighth Auxiliary Brigade in our effort to restore Caldefor to the Darkness of Lord Paranswarm. My companions in the Eighth are: Buzz and Spring, two xephs; Twang, a kobold; Toby McGillicutty, a most disordered man, so depraved as to follow Whimsey, and yet we must treat him as an ally for now; Lady Gerda von Hollinghoff, from one of the noble families of Caldefor; Kenshir, a retainer of her family’s and a man of many skills [so many that his character changed about three times over the course of the first two sessions]; Cilorean Leafbower, an elf; Stumm, a human man in dark armor who has spent much time in Shadow, but who is also a priest of the Holy Temple; Durak, a young man who has some training from the mighty Hasturs; and Ulrich Lars, a young human man who is more of a peddler than a soldier, complete with a large wagon filled with supplies. What’s more, nearly half of our number were already dead by this date. Spring, Lady Gerda, Cilorean, and Durak were all ghosts, still active on our plane thanks to the strange magics in the lands that border Shadow.
Our officer, 3rd Lieutenant Hedwig von Brief called us together for a briefing before dispatching us on a mission. Stumm was newly returned from three years spent within the Shadowlands. He began to report, but when he realized how much of our unit was now undead, he kept his own council. The Lieutenant commended him for his return and welcomed him back. I rejoiced as well, because Stumm would be able to confess me after so many years without the Sacraments. And if he judged it too dangerous to talk freely of what he had learned, that was his right as a priest, for the Temple must often keep knowledge secret when it would be too dangerous to share. Several ranking officers suggested that he should be put in skin, soon. Stumm demurred from this suggestion, and again, who was to doubt the judgment of a priest in matters of purity? I am not one to claim the duties of the Inquisition for myself.
Lieutenant von Brief called us over to meet with an individual who had intelligence that could lead to an important mission. The source of this intelligence was a strange dwarf wizard. He called himself Lankman. While he had several companions, perhaps the oddest thing about him was his enormous staff, which would periodically speak, but as a baby, saying things like “goo” and “ga.” I made the sign of the Downward Arrow to protect me from any chaos that might be associated with him. Still, his information was most interesting, at least if it were true: he had heard reports that one of the fallen Hastur towers, the former Circle Greenfield, still had an intact “matrix screen.” I am not certain precisely what a matrix screen is, but I am confident that it is related to the mighty psionic devices that the Hastur use to augment their own considerable power. The Hastur, of course, maintain the Shadowline, containing the Shadow and repulsing its troops when they venture forth. Circle Greenfield would be part of the old Shadowline that had protected Caldefor, before its fall. He wished us to investigate, find out what was living near the tower, and report back. Actually recovering the matrix would likely be beyond our abilities, he thought. Circle Greenfield lies on the far side of Caldefor, fourteen days ride through Shadow. He promised to meet us at Circle Woebegone. [Where the elves have high Con, the dwarves have high Cha, and all the psions are of above-average power.]
The Lieutenant indicated that we should take this as orders, but that he would not be accompanying us. Some of the more disorderly members of the unit thought that we should simply proceed without any sort of command structure at all, but those of us who are loyal to the Holy Faith knew that that was madness. Without order, our expedition would be doomed. And the priests always told me that I should follow the orders of my superiors and not try to make decisions on my own, except about technical matters. How could I follow that instruction without a clear commander in the field? There was some discussion of making Stumm our officer, as he was a priest and thus suited to leadership, but some people resisted this, for reasons I do not fully understand, although I think they may have wanted to ensure his command responsibilities did not interfere with his sacred duties. The possibility that Lady Gerda should lead us was also broached, for she was a noble, but she was adamantly opposed: she wanted an officer to follow, but was more of a knight champion than a noble commander herself. Finally, Lieutenant von Brief appointed Cilorean as sergeant and second in command of our unit, with Stumm as a sergeant-chaplain, with the same rank but different duties. We also went to Tower Watershore, the local Hastur tower, to requisition a ten-gallon cask of skin, in case our wounds in the Shadowlands required it. There was again some discussion of healing Sergeant-Chaplain Stumm, but he assured us that we should save the skin for when it was more desperately needed.
Setting copyright the DM, 1975-2008. Storyhour copyright the author, 2006-2008.
The Journals of Konrad Jagger, Licensed Diabolist
The regulations of the Holy Temple of Paranswarm, Lord of Orderly Darkness, may He bless us with a place in His Order for the world, require that all licensed diabolists make regular reports to the Society of the Hands of Hell and to the priesthood. I have been unable to report to either since the fall of my homeland of Caldefor, some seven years previous. I would present myself for examination, but I do not know where any representatives of the SHH are in the aftermath of the intaking, nor where I could find a priest of the Orderly Darkness in these lands dominated by the followers of Glor’diadel. Without any better recourse, I keep this journal, that I may record my service to the Orderly Darkness and the service to which I put the fiendish servitors of Lord Paranswarm that I summon from the Hells. I hope that the Temple will find this record sufficient when I can submit to proper supervision once more. If not, I shall accept any punishment that the Temple decrees, for any failure must be mine alone.
My last orders were to defend the lands of Caldefor against the Shadow that surged against them. We failed, and Caldefor fell to the Shadow. Indeed, even now it is passing through the Shadow into the Abyss itself. But our orders to defend the land remain, and so I serve with the Eighth Auxiliary Brigade in our effort to restore Caldefor to the Darkness of Lord Paranswarm. My companions in the Eighth are: Buzz and Spring, two xephs; Twang, a kobold; Toby McGillicutty, a most disordered man, so depraved as to follow Whimsey, and yet we must treat him as an ally for now; Lady Gerda von Hollinghoff, from one of the noble families of Caldefor; Kenshir, a retainer of her family’s and a man of many skills [so many that his character changed about three times over the course of the first two sessions]; Cilorean Leafbower, an elf; Stumm, a human man in dark armor who has spent much time in Shadow, but who is also a priest of the Holy Temple; Durak, a young man who has some training from the mighty Hasturs; and Ulrich Lars, a young human man who is more of a peddler than a soldier, complete with a large wagon filled with supplies. What’s more, nearly half of our number were already dead by this date. Spring, Lady Gerda, Cilorean, and Durak were all ghosts, still active on our plane thanks to the strange magics in the lands that border Shadow.
Our officer, 3rd Lieutenant Hedwig von Brief called us together for a briefing before dispatching us on a mission. Stumm was newly returned from three years spent within the Shadowlands. He began to report, but when he realized how much of our unit was now undead, he kept his own council. The Lieutenant commended him for his return and welcomed him back. I rejoiced as well, because Stumm would be able to confess me after so many years without the Sacraments. And if he judged it too dangerous to talk freely of what he had learned, that was his right as a priest, for the Temple must often keep knowledge secret when it would be too dangerous to share. Several ranking officers suggested that he should be put in skin, soon. Stumm demurred from this suggestion, and again, who was to doubt the judgment of a priest in matters of purity? I am not one to claim the duties of the Inquisition for myself.
Lieutenant von Brief called us over to meet with an individual who had intelligence that could lead to an important mission. The source of this intelligence was a strange dwarf wizard. He called himself Lankman. While he had several companions, perhaps the oddest thing about him was his enormous staff, which would periodically speak, but as a baby, saying things like “goo” and “ga.” I made the sign of the Downward Arrow to protect me from any chaos that might be associated with him. Still, his information was most interesting, at least if it were true: he had heard reports that one of the fallen Hastur towers, the former Circle Greenfield, still had an intact “matrix screen.” I am not certain precisely what a matrix screen is, but I am confident that it is related to the mighty psionic devices that the Hastur use to augment their own considerable power. The Hastur, of course, maintain the Shadowline, containing the Shadow and repulsing its troops when they venture forth. Circle Greenfield would be part of the old Shadowline that had protected Caldefor, before its fall. He wished us to investigate, find out what was living near the tower, and report back. Actually recovering the matrix would likely be beyond our abilities, he thought. Circle Greenfield lies on the far side of Caldefor, fourteen days ride through Shadow. He promised to meet us at Circle Woebegone. [Where the elves have high Con, the dwarves have high Cha, and all the psions are of above-average power.]
The Lieutenant indicated that we should take this as orders, but that he would not be accompanying us. Some of the more disorderly members of the unit thought that we should simply proceed without any sort of command structure at all, but those of us who are loyal to the Holy Faith knew that that was madness. Without order, our expedition would be doomed. And the priests always told me that I should follow the orders of my superiors and not try to make decisions on my own, except about technical matters. How could I follow that instruction without a clear commander in the field? There was some discussion of making Stumm our officer, as he was a priest and thus suited to leadership, but some people resisted this, for reasons I do not fully understand, although I think they may have wanted to ensure his command responsibilities did not interfere with his sacred duties. The possibility that Lady Gerda should lead us was also broached, for she was a noble, but she was adamantly opposed: she wanted an officer to follow, but was more of a knight champion than a noble commander herself. Finally, Lieutenant von Brief appointed Cilorean as sergeant and second in command of our unit, with Stumm as a sergeant-chaplain, with the same rank but different duties. We also went to Tower Watershore, the local Hastur tower, to requisition a ten-gallon cask of skin, in case our wounds in the Shadowlands required it. There was again some discussion of healing Sergeant-Chaplain Stumm, but he assured us that we should save the skin for when it was more desperately needed.
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