Demon Hunters of Karameikos

[driver8]

Captain Dargo stood silently in the center of the audience chamber. Ten paces in front of him sat Lord Vlad Lutescu on his throne, surrounded by a flock of adepts and assisstants all holding parchments and books. Dargo quietly noted the unease on his master's face as he attended to the mundane duties of his office.

Morning sunlight shone through the narrow windows set high in the east wall, illuminating the rich tapestries on the stone walls, casting shadows on the deep corners of the chamber. It glinted off Lord Lutescu's holy symbol as he turned from one assistant to another. Long minutes passed and the chamber was quiet except for the scribbling of quill on paper. Dargo fought the urge to pace.

Captain Rommik Dargo was in his late forties. Commander of Rugalov Keep, he dressed as a simple soldier- he wore a garrison uniform of padded armor; a ceremonial short sword hung by his side; he was cleanshaven and his brown hair was cropped short. Like many native Traladarans, Dargo was a bit stocky and was on the short side, standing 5 feet 8 inches tall. He bore a prominent nose with a dark complexion, and his deep set dark eyes gave his face a hawk like aspect.

Time seemed to pass at a glacial pace for the soldier.

Finally with a wave of his hand Lord Lutescu waved his throng away to a side alcove in the chamber. Rising from his throne, he smiled and clasped Dargo's hand. The priest was young and tall, but the burdens of authority had already begun to show. Lord Letescu was only in his thirties, but his long brown hair and beard were flecked with grey. His narrow face was careworn and dark circles rested under his eyes.

The priest led Dargo to a chair at his right hand. The ruler of Rugalov smoothed his brown clerical robe and took his throne. "So, Dargo it has been a week. What news have you?"

"I have our Hunters, my Lord," Dargo replied, retreiveing a piece of vellum from his uniform. He handed to the priest, who eyed it with bemusement. "I must confess that I took steps after the attack last month, before your formal approval. But time seemed to be of the essence."

Lutescu smiled. "Anticipating as always, eh?" The cleric studied the list and glanced at his commander.

Dargo nodded. "Yes. I took the liberty of contacting the Arcane College weeks ago. I sent a letter via a westward trading ship. We have no dedicated wizards in Rugalov, and I thought it would be best. I recieved word last week the wizard was coming- his ship from Specularum arrived this morning. I sent my heralds to receive him."

"The others were already in Rugalov. I spoke to each in turn myself but in only brief. I explained that the settlers in the north are being attacked, allegedly by demons. That they would be working for the Church of Traladara to investigate these attacks. The commission would be 1500 gold paid on completion of their duties. But I did not go in to much detail given the lack of time. I thought you would wish to brief them yourselves." Dargo sighed. "I'm afraid the village in on edge about the attacks, so rumors are probably flying all around. No doubt they will have many questions."

Lord Lutescu eyes scanned the vellum. "That cannot be helped" he replied without looking up. He paused, arching an eyebrow.

"You have two with divine abilities?" he asked. " But they are not of the Church? A Ylaruami and a follower of Pelor?"

Dargo nodded silently.

" A half orc?" questioned Lutescu.

"A capable fighter," Dargo replied.

Lutescu sighed. "At least the fifth is a Calarii elf. Their kind is rumored to have a tradition of demon hunters. And given that the eastern Dymrak is part of the Vyalia clan lands, an elf would be useful."

Dargo rose. "Is my Lord dissatisfied with my choices?"

The priest shook his head. "No of course not. I dislike the use of mercenaries, however I trust your judgement. Besides there has been little time for recruitment and your garrison is far too depleted to form an expedition. This is the best solution, my friend." Lord Lutescu smiled tiredly. "Where are our Hunters now?"

"I arranged that they assemble here at the Temple this very morning. They should be arriving in the anteroom of the shrine as we speak."

 

[driver8]

Rugalov was a small village of fishermen and traders, home to a little over 600 souls. Because of this smallness, the Temple of Halav was not difficult to locate. It was not only one of the largest structures in the village, but it and the keep across the river were the only structures constructed of stone.

Visitors arriving at the Temple on this fine spring morning would find several brown robed clerics manning its large oak doors. The Temple was closed this day to the public, although observant citizens would see five strangers being given access to the building, and escorted to a private anteroom near the inner shrine.

 

[Manzanita]

Solomon Kreel, half orc rogue/ranger/brb

Solomon made his way to the temple. It saddened him that people stared and stepped aside with fear as he approached. He knew at this point that he was different, and a respectful fear was better than hatred or violence. He was a tall man, heavily armed, and muscular of build, though without excess bulk. It was his size and armorment, as much as his orcish heritage, that put people on their guard. He had sold his horse and much of his gear before taking this trip, and was traveling lightly. In one hand he carried his backpack, his great sword and heavy recurved bow secured in special scabbards across his back, his full capped quiver swinging at his side.

Entering the anteroom he looked around with curiosity, but kept his face expressionless. He approached the figures around the throne, and when recognized, he bowed slightly, respectfully. "Solomon Kreel, sir, at your service."

 

[Festy_Dog]

Once off the ship Sydney leant heavily on his staff. He was tired. Long nights spent pondering tidbits of information. Trying to formulate answers in regards to his own questions about the incident he was to look into.

He took a letter from his scroll case, glanced at it then put it back. After a semi-yawn he made his way towards one of the large stone buildings. He took another scroll from the case as he walked, muttering and occasionaly analysing certain parts. A golden-furred ferret scampered alongside him, peering at their surroundings through quicksilver eyes.

In Sydney's perpetually absent-minded state, he took little notice of those looking at him as he approached the temple. He noticed someone else go in ahead of him, he was too far away to see much but they were certainly carrying a big sword. Sydney couldn't determine much else about them.

Finding the scroll to be satisfactory he returned it to the case, then knelt down to pick up the ferret. It sat placidly on his shoulder, glancing around at everything, and occasionally crouched down next to Sydney's ear, looking as though it was talking to him. Oddly enough, Sydney would talk back.

They arrived at the temple, and Sydney smiled at the clerics. He went in to find the fellow who arrived before him was the only other person here. A well-equipped half-orc it was.

Sydney introduced himself and bowed. The ferret fell off his shoulder and landed softly on the ground. It gave a disgruntled sqeak and darted between Sydney's boots.

"Oops, sorry, Nibbles," he apologised quietly.

 

[johnsemlak]

Leaving his faithful black bear companion in the forest outside, for the bear is well capable of fending for himself, Prestel goes into Rugolov and into the Temple of Halev. Though the Callari elves follow a different god, there has long been friendship between the elves and the followers of Halev. Thus Prestel enters the temple showing due respect to the human diety.

That Prestel is a priest, a priest of nature, may not be apparent to those who see him. He carries a longsword, a bow, a quiver stuffed with arrows, a shield, a dagger, and other assorted arnaments. His face shows some scars of battle, for Prestel is a veteran of many conflicts with the Goblins of the Dymrak forest. Those who observe him closely may notice some unusual features on the elf. His ears and a few other places on his skin look slightly, well, scaly. His nose is a bit unusual. Some say it looks like that of a lizard.

Despite his less-than-attractive looks Prestel enters the town and the temple carrying every ounce of dignity he can muster. When he sees the man who he believes called the him forth, he approches him as says "Dargo, I presume. I am Prestel Xilodon. I believe that means 'Silverpetal' in your language.

What news is there of demons in the forests of Karameikos?

 

[Zerth]

Janos

A brown-haired man with a goatee enterd the Temple of Halev. He was of average build and wearing a shiny chain shirt with a sun symbol on chest. He had a well-made white cloak and under it could be seen the silvery handle of a big sword. A hawk, that seemed to follow everything around him with a keen pair of eyes, was sitting on his shoulder.

He exchanged greetings with some priests at the door and was about to explain his presence, but was cut short by one of the priests. "Please, that way. Lord Vlad and Captain Dargo are waiting."

As he entered the antechamber, he saw, that three other men had already arrived. They had to be some of the other demon-hunters Dargo had mentioned in their earlier short discussion. The man stepped forward and bowed deeply with the hawk hopping on his arm as he did so. "Lord Vlad, Janos from the Temple of Pelor is yours to command." Turning to the other man, "Pleased to meet you again, Captain Dargo. We spoke only briefly before, I hope you can now tell more about the great evil threatening these fine lands."

 

[Wilphe]

A tall, slight looking looking Ylaruami man steps into the room, and looks about him, "My apoplgies, lords. It seems that I arrive last. I crave you forgivness." Though he speaks with obvious sincerity there is nothing craven in his tone or manner, he walks to the throne and salutes, "Mutsar al Zamani".

He is armed certainly, with two scimitars at his sides and two quivers on his back, though he carries no bow. There is a certain primal nobility about him, like an unbroken wild horse.

 

[driver8]

Lord Lutescu smiles. "You honor me and my village by your attendance. Know that you have the thanks of this village and this Church. By ancient right and tradition, the Church of Traladara has formed groups of Hunters to deal with extraordinary and supernatural threats to our communities. Rarely however, have we had to form Hunters of Demons. Their kind has fortunately been scarcely seen in our land since the time of King Halav some two thousand years ago. You formation is something not often seen."

The cleric rises and stands before his throne. "But to the point as to why you are here. Some five weeks ago, two seperate groups of trappers from the hamlet of Kova disappeared. Kova is a community of trappers and woodcutters; it lies some 20 miles upriver from Rugalov. The trappers, or rather I should say their remains were not found till some days later, and by then scavengers had badly mangled the corpses. It was thought at the time that perhaps a band of goblins had grown restive and attacked the trappers."

"A week or so passed, and the people of Kova began to observe strange creatures in the forest at night. Small scaled animals, wolf like monsters with terrible eyes, winged creatures. Livestock was attacked, and the people began to fear travel into the Dymrak."

"The people of Kova sent a delegation to us. The people of Kova are hardy- they are not the kind to be afraid of shadows in the night.The normal dangers of the Dymrak would not propel them to seek our aid. So we held council with their delegates and heard their fears."

"The appearance of the Kovans spurred the rumors. Word began to spread of demons,and our own villagers began to see demons everywhere-in the forest, on the Eastron road, even at the docks. Fear began to fill the town. So in response, we sent a small detachment of six soldiers to investigate and put the minds of the people of Kova to rest."

Lord Lutescu begins to pace in front of his throne, his brow knit. "All was quiet for a while, then a week ago one of our soldiers returned with a message. A stranger, badly wounded, had wandered into Kova. He was pursued by a pack of small corpselike creatures with bloody claws. Several soldiers and villagers were slain, but they drove the creatures away and saved the stranger. Our messager reported the creatures were difficult to injure and quite bloodthirsty. That attack was the final impetus to form your party."

The priest stops pacing and looks at the Hunters. "What we require is simple, if not easy. To find out if demons are indeed responsible for these attacks. If not, then bring proof to stop the panic that is rising among our communities. If it is demons, then find its source and stop the attacks."

The cleric exhales and takes to his throne. Dargo steps forward taking up the thread. "Understand, the attacks by the demons, if they are demons, are serious enough." The soldier pauses as if trying to find the words.

"But the idea of the demons is most worrisome to our people." he continues. "We Traladarans are a superstitious people, mindful of our past. Before the time of King Halav, the Beatsmen invaders who conquered our nation worshipped an ancient demon god who was so terrible his name was not recorded by our historians. Our people were not only enslaved by the Beastmen, but slaughtered as sacrifices to their god. These events still linger in our national memory. For many the reappearance of the demons is an ill omen of those days."

The Captain frowns. "But we have said much. You must have questions about the task at hand."

 

[Manzanita]

Solomon Kreel

Solomon speaks, though no part of his body other than his mouth moves. His voice is deep and low, but clear and smooth. "What of this stranger pursued by the corpses. Was he identified?"

 

[Festy_Dog]

Sydney thinks long and hard about the descriptions given of the creatures. He uses his knowledge of planar beings to see if there's anything matching those descriptions.

Nibbles tilts his head to one side, and gazes at Janos' familiar from behind Sydney's cloak.