Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
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Congratulations on the birth of your son! I'm glad to hear we still have lots of Arcanis-based adventure in store, as well.
Hopefully, your D20 Modern game will merit a story hour as well.
Thanks! He already has a big fuzzy 20 sided die near his crib.
The d20 Modern game doesn't just have a story hour, the story hour is part of the game. I've started writing up the introductory fiction for each character (based on each PCs description and background) to explain how they get involved with Majestic-12.
As Gray and Cold As Stone - Part 9: Pursuit and Vengeance
The hilly ground outside Grand Coryan was dark, and the night air was cold as Quintus rode forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his prey. There was little light though, and many possible hiding places.
“You do realize the odds of us catching the killer at this point are slim,” said Ilmarė.
“Illiir’s vengeance will not be stopped,” said Quintus. “He will give us a sign.”
“Yeah, right,” said Kham. “Now Althares gives signs BEFORE people have their throats cut.”
Suddenly, a burst of light, as bright as Illiir’s own, shone out from behind a nearby hillside.
“There!” shouted Quintus.
The light was quickly doused.
Kham laughed out loud. “The idiot must have accidentally tapped the statue. When you touch it, it lights up.”
“Is there any statue of Illiir that DOESN’T light up?” asked Ilmarė.
Quintus dismounted and walked towards the clearing, gladius drawn. His fist glowed with it’s a light as bright as the statue. “Come out and show yourself, coward!”
Kham drew Fleshripper. “I’m sure he’s going to show himself now—“
A humanoid form shimmered as it plunged a crossbow bolt jutted out of Quintus’ back. He whirled, the bolt still jutting from his finger.
“You!” snarled Quintus.
“Brendis?” asked Ilmarė in surprise. The assassin was one of Roderick’s pack.
“You’ll pay for that!” Quintus pointed at the assassin with his gladius. “Bow down before Illiir’s might!”
Brendis laughed at him.
Kham lined up a shot with his sole pistol. “You know this guy?”
BLAM!
A chunk of terrain exploded where Brendis was standing. He rolled to the side.
“He’s fast,” said Ilmarė.
“Kneel, criminal, and be judged!” shouted Quintus. Nothing happened.
“Are you going to shout him to death?” asked Kham. “Stab him with something sharp!” As if to emphasize the point, Kham ran into the fracas. Brendis tried to block the attack with his rapier, but Fleshripper skipped off of the guard and gashed his upper left arm.
Brendis feinted left, then slashed downward. Kham yelped but held his ground.
Outnumbered, the assassin turned to run. He made it a few steps before Ilmarė’s dagger jutted from his thigh. He fell to the ground, clutching his leg.
Quintus caught up with him first. He sheathed his gladius and lifted Brendis up by his chain shirt. Brendis’ arm was bleeding far more than any wound should. “Whom do you work for?”
Brendis spat at him.
Kham pointed at the assassin’s upper left arm. “I think that speaks volumes.”
Visible in the open tear of Brendis’ chain mail was a tattoo. It was in the shape of a flaming sword topped with a crown and surrounded by clouds.
“A Nierite,” said Quintus. He wiped the spittle off of his face with his other hand.
“Leonydas val’Virdan, the Sword of the Heavens, who invaded Canceri, to be exact,” added Ilmarė.
Quintus pulled the younger man closer to his face. “You will tell me everything.” His pupils took on a golden sheen. “Tell me who sent you.”
Brendis broke out in a sweat. He tried to look away from Quintus’ gaze, but he was transfixed. “You already know.”
“And your mission?”
“To kill Acastus val’Assante and ensure that he could not return from the dead.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Brendis. Quintus forced the man to his knees. “It doesn’t matter. The Sword of Heavens has triumphed. ”
Quintus drew his gladius with a loud SHING!
“What are you—” asked Kham.
“Illiir finds you guilty!” Then he slit Brendis’ throat.
“Althares!” shouted Kham. “What did you do that for?”
Quintus eyes stopped glowing. He knelt down to pick up the statuette of Illiir dangling from Brendis’ belt. “Illiir judged him. He told us everything he knew.”
Kham looked at Ilmarė. She shrugged back.
“I know this type of man,” said Quintus. “He would not allow himself to be taken alive.” He walked away to mount up.
Kham shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sure you know all about fanatics.”
Ilmarė stared down at Brendis’ spreading pool of blood. “I’m not so sure that was the only reason he killed him,” she said.
Excellent SH Talien. I was sad this morning when I thought I had caught up in reading this story. But then I was happy to see another update this afternoon! Hurray!
Of course now that I have read it, I am sad again...
Seriously though, I am enjoying this immensely. Kham so far is my favorite PC; mostly due to him getting most of the good one-liners.
Elandre received them in her father’s study. She listened carefully to their report, struggling to keep a tight rein on her emotions.
“Thank you again for all your efforts; if I had some inkling of this plot against my father’s life, I believe that you could have saved him as well. I only wish my last words to him had not been so…harsh…” She trailed off, looking at the floor.
“We’ve all taken loved ones for granted sometimes,” said Ilmarė. She shot Quintus a glare. “Your father loved you and you loved him; nothing you said changed that.”
Elandre nodded. “I have your payment here.” She wiped her eyes and handed out three sacks of gold.
“We retrieved the statue,” said Quintus in low tones. He held it up in the light. It was spattered with Brendis’ blood.
“I would like you to keep it, Quintus,” she said with a wan smile. “Perhaps it will light your way in dark times.”
“I would be honored,” he replied.
“However,” said Elandre, “I would ask one more favor from you.” Before anyone could response, she continued. “I cannot reject the marriage my father had arranged; it would be seen as a rejection of him and would dishonor his memory now that he is…gone. Also, now that I know the Emperor is behind the marriage, I am sure that he would find a way to compel me to go through with it.”
“Your father didn’t want you to marry Roderick,” said Kham.
“I know that now,” she said. “And now that he is gone, I will be needed here more than ever.” She turned to Ilmarė. “Will you talk to Roderick and ask him to reconsider, to cancel the marriage?” Ilmarė started to speak but Elandre interrupted her. “You have already done so much for me; may I ask you for this one final favor?”
“Don’t look at me,” said Kham. He jingled the purse in Elandre’s direction. “I’m heading back to Freeport. I don’t plan to ever step foot in Coryan again if I can help it.”
Ilmarė took a deep breath. She put one hand on Quintus’ shoulder. “WE’LL talk to him.”
“Call off the wedding,” said Quintus in his usual brusque manner. “Elandre does not want to marry you.”
Ilmarė frowned. “What Quintus is trying to say is that this marriage is not under the best circumstances. You barely know her.”
Roderick looked from the human to the elorii and back again. “But I love her!”
“Your father and Acastus are—were—both against the marriage,” said Quintus.
“There are different kinds of love,” said Ilmarė. “Yours will fade. If it still remains after some time apart, then you may want to court her.”
“Court her?”
“Yes,” said Quintus. “Love is an exchange. You must earn her love. And she must love you back. Declaring it doesn’t make it true.”
Ilmarė looked sideways at Quintus. “And marriage doesn’t guarantee love.”
“You sound as if you speak from personal experience,” said Roderick.
“That’s not the point,” said Ilmarė, flustered. “The point is—“
“The point is that you should call off the marriage,” Quintus repeated. “And perhaps, if you are worthy of her love, she will come to you willingly one day.”
“It would be a sacrifice,” said Roderick, rising to his feet. “A noble sacrifice, but one that I must bear.”
Ilmarė rolled her eyes. “If that makes you feel better about it, yes.”
“I will call it off,” said Roderick. “And who knows,” he added with a sly smile, “she may come to love me yet!”
Ilmarė patted Roderick on the shoulder. “Good man. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change out of these clothes.” She exited.
Roderick watched her leave. “You’re a lucky man,” he said to Quintus. “Ilmarė is beautiful, almost as pretty as Elandre. And she’s very wise. I hope one day to have Elandre love me like Ilmarė loves you.”
Quintus blinked. “Legionnaires cannot marry,” he said slowly. “We are married to our legion.”
Roderick gave him a pitying look. “At least you have a choice. You can always quit your legion. I’m going to have to work hard to court Elandre.” He hustled Quintus out of his room. “Anyway, thanks for your advice.”
Once he was in the hallway, Quintus took a long hard look at the statue of Illiir. It was a golden statuette, perhaps six inches tall, depicting Illiir with one hand outstretched in benediction, while the other held the orb of the sun overhead.
He tapped it once. The light went on. The legionnaire of the Triumphant Rays of the Invisible Sun was silhouetted by the statue’s glow.
“At least I have a choice,” he whispered to himself.
This adventure is soft point 5 in Year 2 of the tournament module, "Hand of the Master," written by Jeffrey Witthauer and Jeffrey Meehan, set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at http://www.onaraonline.org. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!
Our cast of characters includes:
· Dungeon Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
· Beldin Soulforge (dwarf fighter) played by Joe Lalumia
· Bijoux (fihali druid) played by Melissa Tresca
· Calactyte (ss’ressen barbarian) played by Joe Tresca (http://www.creepyportfolio.com)
· Kham Val’Abebi(val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.dreamscupltor.com)
· Sebastian Arnyal (dark-kin sorcerer) played by George Webster
· Vlad Martell (human fighter) played by Matt Hammer
This adventure was an important but short chapter in the evolution of Beldin and Kham. For Beldin, it put him firmly on the adventuring map. I hinted at Beldin’s competition with another dwarf for apprenticeship to Elabac; in this adventure, that competition comes to a head. And of course, Fleshripper is a character in its own right, so it’s only appropriate that the wicked blade evolves right along with Kham.
Poor Kham. The one character that wants to jump around and fight, and he (as Jeremy puts it) carries a ten-pound brick around. Well, it’s not a brick anymore. By the end of the adventure, Fleshripper takes center stage.
Kham was trying to remain calm, but he hid his displeasure poorly. Alsef fidgeted nervously next to his master and legendary dwarven smith, Elabac.
“I’m sorry…” wheezed Elabac. “Fleshripper is not…a curse…but a condition. Although it painful…this fever will pass…and at the end…you will be stronger for it.”
Kham slapped both palms down on the table. “This sword is ruining my life!” The other dwarves looked over at Kham. He took a swig from a nearby wineskin and lowered his voice. “Elabac, please. You have to separate me from it. It made me do…” his eyes lost focus, “some horrible things. I’m afraid what I might do next.”
Elabac smiled but shook his head. “This is…your burden to bear, I’m afraid. It is possible…that with the right gemstone…I may be able…to strengthen your bond—”
“Strengthen it? I don’t want to be closer to the damn thing! I want you to remove it!”
“I understand…” said Elabac. “But things must get worse…before they will get better.” The old dwarf leaned forward, his gray whiskers brushing against the table. “Kham…Fleshripper chose you…for a reason. Your fates are intertwined.”
“Jarel can provide a gemstone that might work,” interjected Alsef. “I will ask him on your behalf.”
Kham took another long swig. “Jarel owes me,” he said. “In the mean time, maybe I’ll just stay here.” He patted the hilt of Fleshripper, jutting from his hip in its sheathe. “Maybe it will be a good incentive for all of us while we figure out the ‘reason’ Fleshripper chose me.”
“Don’t threaten Elabac like that!” said Alsef, rising to his feet. “Illiir knows we have enough problems.”
“Problems?” asked Kham.
“Enough,” said Elabac. “Alsef worries too much…I will…be fine. He merely frets…that I will be pressed…into service again…for someone else’s…selfish ends. Now if you will…excuse us…we have much…work to do.”
Alsef helped the wizened dwarf slowly rose to his feet.
Kham raised one finger to make a retort, but then thought better of it.
“In that case,” he muttered, “I guess I’m not much different.” Then he took another swig of the wine.
Hand of the Master - Part 1a: Wild Geese and Red Herrings
Alsef led Calactyte the lizard-like ss’ressen, Bijoux the cat-like fihali, and Vlad the human-like human down the streets of the dwarven city. One example of superb stonework after another appeared before them, blurring together into a single magnificent tapestry. Such was Solanos Mor.
“For little hairy people,” Cal looked up at the looming structures around them, “they build everything big.”
“They used to be big,” said Vlad. “Dwarves were giants once.”
Soon, a large structure bellowing gouts of smoke and soot came into view.
“The Legendary Blades forge,” said Vlad, a hint of awe in his voice. “Master Elabac’s home.”
Alsef waited patiently outside the building for a few moments until Beldin came out of the shop.
“Beldin!” said Vlad with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Beldin nodded but did not return the smile. He and Alsef began murmuring in eerie synchronization as they led them down a side street just before the shop. They were ushered inside to a humble abode.
Sebastian, the dark-kin, rose to his feet at their arrival. Kham remained seated. The two dwarves stopped chanting.
They exchanged pleasantries. Kham greeted them sullenly.
“This is my home,” said Alsef. “While you stay here, it is yours as well.” He nodded to Beldin. “You already know Beldin. I have duties with my master, but Beldin shall serve as your escort within Solanos Mor. He knows of my suspicions and can answer all your questions. Good day, my friends, and may Illiirr illuminate the truth.”
Alsef bowed and left the house. Beldin stepped forward to address them.
“So what’s the problem?” asked Vlad. “You think someone’s going to harm Elabac?”
“Alsef is a good dwarf and a master smith,” said Beldin. “Elabac has trusted him to be his chief apprentice, and most feel he will succeed Elabac when the Master…passes on.”
“It’s amazing the old coot hasn’t passed on already,” muttered Kham.
Sebastian shot him a glare. Beldin continued. “However, Alsef’s skill is in the forge, not the mind. He seems so certain that Elabac is in danger, but I have seen little to indicate this.”
“Indeed,” said Sebastian, “since Elabac’s return from Ventaka, he is under tighter guard than ever.”
“The only dwarves who could assault Elabac are his apprentices and Jarel, and they are all beyond reproach. I fear Alsef’s hatred of the Reavers colors his thoughts.”
“He’s not the only one who hates Reavers,” said Vlad, rubbing his side. “I remember Jarel. He should be able to help Elabac considerably.”
“Not as much as he might have in the past,” said Beldin. “Jarel recently suffered a terrible accident; his hands were crushed. The cruel dwarves of Encali shunned him, as he was no longer of any use to them. Jarel made his way through the tunnels to Solanos Mor, where he found redemption among the penitent. He now faithfully worships Illiir, and although his hands are crushed, his mind still functions.”
“Jarel’s been assisting Elabac,” said Kham. “He’s been giving some of his enchanted jewels to be set in Elabac’s weapons.”
“Thanks to Jarel’s gems, Elabac’s blades seem to have improved even further,” said Sebastian.
“Wow,” said Vlad.
“Try to pick your jaw up off the ground,” snapped Kham. “Sheesh, you don’t even get that excited about women.”
Vlad closed his mouth. “I already have a blade crafted by Master Elabac.” The big Milandisian’s hand patted the hilt of his longsword. “There’s no finer weapons in the world.”
Beldin nodded. “We hope that Jarel and Master Elabac’s united efforts will be the key to unlocking the curse.”
“Curse?” asked Bijoux.
“That’s right, you’re not from Onara,” said Sebastian. “Briefly, the dwarves you see before you were once giants among men, literally. Illiir cursed the dwarves for their hubris, encasing them into their current forms. But there is hope: the first enclave to craft the perfect item will be released from the curse. Master Elabac is Solanos Mor’s best hope at achieving the perfect item.”
“But only one enclave is released from the curse?” asked Cal.
“Correct,” said Beldin. “This is why the Encali enclave wars with us. They are heretics, refusing to be penitent before Illiir and instead holding Sarish as the salvation of the dwarves.”
“That kind of thinking also created the Reaver enclave,” said Kham. “They permanently encase themselves in armor, so that if the curse were ever to be lifted they would be crushed by the transformation from dwarf to giant.”
“Reavers are no friend to Alsef,” said Beldin. “They killed his parents and destroyed their soul shards. It is the one bitterness that mars Alsef’s kindness. It is that shared hatred that unites Alsef with Jarel.”
“I want to see Jarel,” said Kham. “He and I have some business to discuss.”
Then he walked out of Alsef’s home.
After a moment, Vlad said, “So why exactly is Kham here again?”
Hand of the Master - Part 1b: Wild Geese and Red Herrings
Beldin led them into the main forge, where the clanging of metal from dwarven hammers resounded in a deafening ring throughout the rooms. Dwarves, mostly bare-chested and powerfully built, forged metal, working towards the creation of the perfect item.
In the center of it all watched a corpulent older dwarf. Jarel’s pitch-black beard was woven into two forks, each one capped with a beautiful gold crown. His jovial face was out of place with the rest of his sinister features. Most noticeable were his hands: both were twisted and gnarled, the fingers bent at unnatural angles.
Beldin walked towards him, and in the loud room it was impossible to make out what they said. Eventually, Jarel nodded and walked outside of the forge.
“Beldin says you desire to speak with me,” he said in a deep voice. “Come with me and we shall go to my home.”
Jarel and Beldin led them down the main thoroughfare, where the chants of penitent dwarves resounded of the walls of the vault.
Bijoux’s ears were flattened against her head. “Why are they always chanting?”
Sebastian leaned over to whisper. “I thought you knew. While in the streets of the city, it is considered a high offense to utter any words that are not the Catechism of Light.”
Bijoux was about to respond, but Sebastian put one finger to his lips. She kept silent.
Eventually, Jarel led them away from the main road to a modest stone house. Once they were all seated inside, Kham got right to the point.
“Long time, no see Jarel. Still smuggling jewels in from Encali?”
Jarel chuckled. “Smuggle is such a strong term. I crafted the jewels; they are mine to give as I please. However, my former brethren in Encali do not appreciate my new friendship with Solanos Mor.”
Beldin seemed unconvinced. “Why are you helping our enclave?”
“Like most in Encali, I once reviled Illiir as the one who cursed the dwarves. However, when I was turned out of Encali for being useless to them, the dwarves of Solanos Mor took me in. They helped me where no others would. I had a revelation.”
Kham rolled his eyes. “If only Quintus were hear to soak this up.”
“I realized the error of my ways,” said Jarel. “I became a true follower of Illiir. I believe Elabac has the best chance of creating the perfect item, and I see it as part of my penance to help him however I can.”
“If you’re such a follower of Illiir,” said Bijoux, “how come you weren’t chanting the Catechism of Light?”
Jarel appeared taken aback. After a nervous glance at Beldin, his voice became as steel. “You are mistaken, I assure you. My faith is as strong and pure as any here in this enclave.”
Beldin glanced at Jarel, and a flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes.
They left soon after.
“I know what I heard—“ Bijoux began, but Beldin hushed her and resumed chanting the Catechism of Light.
Hand of the Master - Part 2a: Shadows in the Night
It seemed like an eternity before they were able to speak again. Beldin ushered them into Alsef’s abode.
Kham took his usual position in the corner of the room while the others stood around Bijoux and Beldin.
“I know what I heard,” said Bijoux. “Or didn’t hear. Jarel was not chanting.”
Beldin gazed at the ground. “I hardly know where to begin. I took an oath not to speak of this, but in light of recent revelations…I think perhaps there is a danger to Master Elabac. If my suspicions are correct, I must speak, regardless of promises made.”
“What?” asked Sebastian. “You knew something and didn’t tell me?”
Beldin couldn’t look Sebastian in the eye. “I swore an oath,” he said. “And I stood by it, but Bijoux’s suspicions have confirmed my worst fears. Jarel has been gifting Elabac with his gems, but there is one, his finest, that is still in Encali. He said he would retrieve it tonight and meet Elabac and Alsef in the tunnels between Solanos Mor and Encali to deliver it.”
Kham jolted out of his chair. “He’s doing that for me,” said Kham. He looked around at the others, a little sheepish. “I need that gem.”
“I can’t believe you would not share this with me!” said Sebastian. The dark-kin’s hands curled into fists.
“Jarel asked that it be kept secret, for the dwarves of Encali would be furious if he knew their plans,” said Beldin. “Alas I fear…I am afraid…perhaps his intentions were not so honorable.”
“No kidding,” said Kham. “If you lie, you cheat. If you cheat, you steal.”
“By now, Elabac and Alsef must be nearly there,” said Vlad. “Do you know where the meeting is?”
Hand of the Master - Part 2b: Shadows in the Night
The tunnels may very well once have been grand. Or perhaps they were always as dank.
“These tunnels are rarely used,” said Beldin. “They are relics from a bygone era when Encali and Solanos Mor lived in peace.”
Despite their worn nature, the tunnels were free of vermin and filth that often congregated in such places. Their trip, while far from pleasant, was not disgusting.
Beldin lit a torch and moved quickly, forcing the rest to hurry to keep up. Tunnels branched out in many directions, but Beldin seemed to know exactly where he was headed.
Eventually, Beldin slowed and then stopped, motioning for the others to do the same. The tunnels provided a strange acoustic effect, allowing them to hear voices as if they were very close.
Elabac’s voice said, “Jarel…is late. I do hope…nothing…went wrong.”
“I am sure he is fine,” replied Alsef’s voice. “He is very capable.”
They resumed walking, only to hear a set of heavy footsteps followed by Jarel’s deep voice. “Elabac! Well met, my brother.”
“Well met…Jarel. Thank you…for offering this…gift. May I…see it?”
“You would be able to,” Jarel began, his voice turning sinister, ”if it existed.”
Beldin gasped. “My worst fears are realized. We must help them!”
As they moved forward, they heard Elabac’s demand. “What is…the meaning…of this…Jarel?”
“It is simple, dear Elabac,” said Jarel. “Tonight I take my revenge, both on my rival and on those who wronged me.”
They turned the bend in the passage to see a frightened Alsef standing next to an angry Elabac. Armed dwarves burst from tunnels around them, quickly surrounding the two. The dwarves had long black bears twisted into two forks, each capped with a golden crown like Jarel’s.
Elabac was furious. “Encali! What treachery…is this…that the Encali…would accost me?”
As the Encali dwarves cut off all avenues for Elabac to escape, one turned to Jarel. “Good work. This will be a great victory for the Encali.”
Jarel looked white as a sheet and shocked. “What is the meaning of this? This was not part of the plan!”
“Plans have changed,” the Encali dwarf said with a chuckle. “Kill the apprentice, take the master.”
Alsef let out a yelp and ran back down the tunnels. “I must get help!” he shouted. “I must warn Solanos Mor!”
The noise he made caused the ring of dwarves to focus on Beldin and his companions. “Interlopers,” said the leader. “You will not get past the Encali. Take the Master. Kill the rest.”
The line of dwarves separating them from Elabac, Alsef, and Jarel turned towards them, weapons drawn.
Hand of the Master - Part 2c: Shadows in the Night
Kham flipped the cork off of a vial and lifted it to his lips.
“Can’t you save the drinking for later?” asked Sebastian.
“Very funny,” said Kham. “But this isn’t alcohol.”
Vlad drew his sword. “What is it then?”
“Something way better,” said Kham. “Just stay out of my way.”
With a bellow of rage, Beldin barreled into the midst of the dwarves. He batted one dwarf aside with the flat of his axe and shouldered into another. Vlad ran behind him, following up on Beldin’s momentum with his own flurry of blows. Cal looked around, shrugged his shoulders, and waded in after them.
“Beldin fights like a man possessed,” said Bijoux.
Sebastian stepped forward, palms spread outwards. “If Elabac dies, it will be on his head. Fuco aspergo!”
A coruscating cone of colors sprang forth from his palm, encompassing the dwarves. Two went down, clutching their eyes.
“I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about you,” said Kham to Sebastian. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get my life back.” With a mighty leap, Kham launched himself into the air. The potion’s magic did its job, landing him on the other side of the dwarves.
Elabac was gone.
“What the hell?” he shouted. Alsef’s body lay shattered on the ground. Jarel had collapsed, weeping. Kham leaned down to stare him in the face. “Where did they go?”
Jarel raised his voice in lament. “What have I done? What have I done!”
“You were releasing me from this damn sword.” Kham took off his purple lenses, revealing pupiless white eyes. “I’m not going to ask you again. Where did Elabac go?”
Jarel pointed at the wall. “I have brought doom upon us!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kham put his lenses back on. “Another secret door, great.” He began feeling all along the wet stone of the tunnel. An Encali barreled up to him, axe raised…
Only to bounce off an invisible field. The dwarf blinked in surprise while Kham muttered to himself about dwarven engineering, completely oblivious to the failed attack.
Beldin hacked the Encali dwarf down.
“We’re too late,” said Sebastian, leaning over the body of Alsef. “Alsef’s dead.”
“What of his soul shard?” asked Beldin. Kham continued to run his fingers along the tunnel wall.
“His what?” asked Vlad.
“Soul shard,” repeated Beldin. “Our souls are encased in them. We can never truly die so long as our bodies are still intact.”
“They took it,” said Sebastian grimly.
Beldin took a deep breath. “This will mean war. Solanos Mor will march on Encali.”
“It was not the Encali who were responsible for the attack,” said Jarel. “It was the Reavers. Always the Reavers.”
“Reavers, Encali, who gives a crap!” snarled Kham. “If I could just figure out how to open this door…”
Beldin reached out and pressed a slightly discolored rock on the cave face. The wall slid away to reveal a dark passage.
Kham glared at Beldin. “Stupid dwarven construction,” he muttered.
Hand of the Master - Part 3: Mountains from Molehills
“That passage will do you no good,” said Jarel. “They have a teleport scroll. You will never reach them in time.”
“We must try,” said Sebastian. “And you will help us.” He took a menacing step forward.
“Why would you betray Elabac?” asked Beldin. “He took you in. He trusted you!”
Jarel wiped tears from his eyes. “I was jealous,” he said. “Jealous of his prestige. Of his influence. My spies told me that he would be traveling to Ventaka, so I informed some contacts I had in the Reavers. They set up an ambush, but…”
“But we stopped them,” said Vlad.
Jarel nodded. “I sold my services to the House Otrecto, who betrayed me. After you rescued me from their hideout, I returned to the Reavers with the expectation of a warm welcome. Instead, they accused me of betraying them to Elabac and crushed my hands as punishment.” He held up his gnarled and twisted hands. “To get revenge on Elabac and regain the respect of the Encali enclave, I informed the Reavers that I could again deliver him to them.”
Kham spat. “You’re not the brightest tool in the shed. You told Beldin, of all people, about your plans.”
“I intended you to hear about how Reavers attacked us in the tunnels and killed Elabac,” said Jarel. “Once Solanos Mor found out, and especially if outsiders like you,” he nodded towards Cal and Bijoux, “knew about it, Solanos Mor would be forced to wage war on the Reavers. The Reavers would be wiped out in the process and Solanos Mor would be weakened.”
“But the Reavers were one step ahead of you,” said Beldin.
“They disguised themselves, and now I have brought doom upon my own enclave! The Encali enclave is not strong enough to resist Solanos Mor.”
Cal sniffed in Jarel’s direction. “I haven’t eaten in awhile,” he said. “Let’s kill him.”
“Wait!” said Jarel. “I can help. When I was in contact with the Reavers before, I took the liberty of obtaining a scroll of teleport, keyed to their encampment.” He pulled a scroll and a blood red gem out of his vest. When Jarel held the gem up, it refracted in the torchlight.
Kham snatched the gem out of his hand. “This is what Elabac came for.” He blinked. “Gods be damned! Now I’ve got the gem and not the dwarf!”
“If you hold up the gem and spill your blood upon it, you will be transported back here. However, you must be outside of any structure to use it.”
Sebastian took the scroll from him.
“Why would they take him alive?” asked Bijoux. “What good is Elabac to them?”
Kham sighed. “The leader wants to force Elabac to make finer weapons.”
“That’s true,” said Jarel. “The leader of the Reavers is a master of Nol Dappan weaponsmithing. Considering the Nol Dappans craftsmanship almost equals Elabac’s, the commander will want to combine his expertise with Elabac’s skill to create the ultimate weapon.” He looked curiously at Kham. “How did you know that?”
“You’re not the only one guilty of being selfish,” said Kham in low tones.
Then Sebastian read the scroll and they disappeared.
It appeared that they were still in the Corlathian Mountains, though they were outside in a secluded rocky gorge. The narrow path before them opened into a natural clearing amidst the jagged peaks, just large enough to hold a small Reaver camp. Their tents were visible, and every so often they could catch a glimpse of one walking to and fro.
Bijoux clasped her claws over her ears and closed her eyes.
“What…?” asked Vlad. Then he heard it too. Screams.
Elabac was still alive, it seemed, for they could hear his unmuffled cries echoing throughout the camp.
Sebastian put one hand on Bijoux’s shoulder. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”
Bijoux nodded and pointed to the north side of the camp. Then she clasped her hands over her ears again.
Kham popped another vial. “I’ll take care of this personally.” He swigged the contents and promptly faded from sight.
Beldin moved to follow but Sebastian stopped him. “Your armor will give us away,” he said. Sebastian frowned at Vlad. “You too.”
“I will not stand by listening to this,” said Beldin. His face was turning red.
“We have a better chance if we strike with stealth first,” said Sebastian. “Cal and I will sneak into the camp. Stay with Bijoux. When the alarm is raised, come as quickly as you can.”
“That’s not much of a plan,” said Vlad.
“No,” said Sebastian with a weak smile, “but it will have to do.”
Then the unlikely duo ducked into the gorge and out of sight.
Elabac was stripped from the waist up and tied to a wooden chair. On either side of Elabac was a dwarf holding a hot poker. Burns on Elabac’s flesh testified to the torture.
A sinister-looking dwarf stood in front of him. His ruddy brown skin was encrusted with grime and ash. He was shaven and beardless. A scar ran down the back of his scalp. Two more dwarves flanked their leader.
Kham recognized him. It was Lorund Ranenor, a Nol Dappan dwarf.
Lorund cleared his throat. “I tire of your stubbornness. It is obvious your ages spent over the forge have toughened you. How willing would you be to allow one you loved to be sent to oblivion? Will you craft a trophy for me?”
Elabac looked up, defeat in his eyes. But still he wearily shook his head.
“Pity,” said Lorund. As he pulled his arm back, Kham could see Alsef’s soul shard on an upright log before him.
A powerful blow from the cruelly shaped blade shattered the gem into a multitude of fragments. Even before some of the shards imbedded themselves in Elabac, he let out a scream of newfound terror and anguish.
The scream was joined by Lorund’s bellow of surprise as Fleshripper jutted from his side. Kham appeared next to him.
The guards spun to retaliate, only to face a wave of colors emanating from Sebastian’s open palms. Two of them collapsed, blinded.
Cal waded into combat with a roar. The two dwarves flanking Lorund were momentarily surprised, but the ss’ressen’s charge snapped them out of it.
Lorund spun to face his attacker, but Kham had collapsed to the ground, Fleshripper in hand. He raised his axe, only to recognize the armored Milandisian who entered the tent.
“You!” shouted Lorund. “You killed Neyadis! I’ll gut you from crotch to craw!”
With a bellow of rage, the dwarf charged towards his opponent, stepping over Kham. And all the while, Kham dreamed.
The moment Fleshripper pierced Lorund, the world around Kham faded away.
Kham felt as if he were rushing very fast, the wind whistling by him, stinging his eyes. Fleshripper was the only thing that felt solid anymore, its weight secure in his hands, anchoring him in its reality. He found comfort in its presence.
The blood from the dwarf was still wet upon the blade, and yet Fleshripper called out for more.
Kham could hear its voice in his ear, goading him to rid the world of the evil creatures. He felt new power, almost an awakening surge from Fleshripper.
Then, with a jolt strong enough to almost throw him to the ground, he found himself exactly where he was before. On the battlefield, with scarcely a moment having passed.
“Now that I know about these soul shards,” Vlad placed Lorund’s soul shard on the log where Alsef’s had been shattered, “I’m going to be sure that the next time I kill a dwarf, he stays dead.” He raised his sword overhead.
“Please,” wheezed Elabac. Sebastian worked to free him from the chair. “Haven’t we had…enough…carnage?”
“Take their shards,” said Beldin. “We will hand them over to the Solanos Mor authorities.”
Cal pawed through the bodies.
Bijoux’s head poked into the tent. “I do not mean to alarm you, but the Reavers now know of our presence.”
Kham rose unsteadily to his feet. “Maybe the sight of a flying cat gave us away.”
Bijoux seemed unflustered. “Perhaps they noticed that the screaming had stopped.” She looked with sympathy upon the old dwarf. “I know I did.”
“No time to debate,” said Vlad. He slashed open the back of the tent. “Let’s go.”
Kham stepped through the opening. “You wanted blood, Fleshripper? You got it.” He cut his palm on Fleshripper’s blade. His hand dripped with blood.
Then he pull out the red stone from his pocket and they were gone.
As soon as Kham’s blood hit the gem, he felt a sensation like a jerk at his gut. He suddenly had a terrible notion that he was experiencing what it would be like for a dwarf’s soul to enter a soul shard. It was cold, dark and terrible.
But then he saw a light that expanded and spread over millions of facets, like a diamond. It filled his whole consciousness. He broke through the facets and found himself standing back in Jarel’s house, with Jarel himself before them. The gem had pulled all of them with Kham; judging from some of their reactions, they found it even less pleasant than Kham did.
Jarel looked at each of them, then at Elabac. His eyes filled with tears and he threw himself at Elabac’s feet, overcome with grief.
“Forgive me, Master!” he cried. “I see now. I see now what I’ve done!”
Elabac looked at Beldin, Sebastian, and Kham. “We shall have…to do something…about him. He seems… to finally…have discovered…true sorrow…for his wrongs. Perhaps…he could be brought…to Illiir’s light. What do you think…my friends? What shall we do…about Jarel?”
Sebastian frowned. “He betrayed all of us under the guise of repentance.” He avoided looking at Beldin. “He used Solanos Mor’s people against itself and nearly caused a war. If that doesn’t deserve death, I don’t know what does.”
Beldin shook his head. “Illiir is a merciful god. If Jarel wishes for a second chance, then he should have it.”
Elabac turned to look at Kham. “That leaves you…Kham.”
Kham bit his lip. “Everybody has their problems,” he said after a long moment. “Sometimes, the pain’s so bad you’ll do anything to make it stop, no matter who suffers.” He took a swig of a new wineskin. “I’m no more innocent than Jarel in that regard. If the dwarf says he’s sorry, let him live.”
The old dwarf patted Kham affectionately on the back. Much was said without being spoken.
“So be it,” said Elabac. “Jarel will be…allowed to search…for the peace of Illiir.”
“Thank you for your mercy!” Jarel fell to his knees, weeping.
“You have passed…a test,” said Elabac to Kham. “Now…we must perform…the bonding ritual…”
The ritual seemed to take forever. Elabac and Beldin stood in front of a kneeling Kham. Blood from Fleshripper—Lorund’s blood—was smeared on Kham’s forehead.
“As Fleshripper has been anointed with the blood of Solanos Mor’s enemies,” said Beldin, “so too have I anointed you, Kham val’Abebi.” He lifted up the blood-red gem and placed it into a groove on the hilt of Fleshripper. “I place the Gem of Sarish’s Oath into Fleshripper; as Sarish’s Oath merges with the blade, may the blade merge with your soul, so that together become a tool of Illiir’s vengeance. Henceforth, let Fleshripper be known as Grizaldrengi, ‘Slayer of Poor Meat’ in dwarvish.”
As the Gem of Sarish’s Oath was set into Fleshripper, it seemed to expand to fill his whole consciousness. The many facets of Kham’s world shattered into a smoky image within.
Through the haze and mist of what he was sure must be centuries, Kham could see a barrel-chested dwarf, his face contorted in rage and hate, his body taut with muscle from years of passionate training and denial. Fleshripper was in his hands.
Before him, hordes of Reavers came, and Fleshripper slew them all. Fleshripper almost glowed with what seemed to be a holy light at is cut through the ranks of the evil Reavers.
The scene became smoky again, and Kham could see the dwarf, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, finally succumbing to his wounds and falling. A female val walked up to him; Kham was certain she was a paladin.
The paladin kneeled, tears running down her cheeks. She closed the lifeless eyes of the dwarf. Though Kham could not hear her voice, he was certain she was performing last rites.
Then she looked at the last Reaver killed, Fleshripper still impaled in the dwarf’s chest. It had driven a hole through his welded armor. With a look of determination, she took Fleshripper, lifting it high, as it hummed with holy power.
Then the scene became smoky again and Kham was back in Solanos Mor.
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