Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
Joachim said:
this is indeed a sad notice.GW
JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
this is indeed a sad notice.GW
Hammerhead
Explorer
Well, Paizo is still making D&D products like their Pathfinder Adventure Path, so it's not like they're going out of business. Now they make adventures without being controlled by The Man (j/k).
Joachim
First Post
Hammerhead said:
No...now they are going to be just another version of Green Ronin, with the ability to put together modules using Core Rules only, and no access to WotC campaign-specific information (FR, Eberron, etc.). This decision by Hasbro really does not make any sense at all, outside of an attempt at a cash grab. Dungeon and Dragon have been absolute staples for the game since before I started playing. Removing that is going to hurt, especially to the older player set, such as our group.
I absolutely agree w/ Joachim. Limiting themselves to OGC will preclude Pathfinder from using many monsters that are D&D staples (Illithid, Slaadi, Umber Hulks, etc. are NOT OGC). Also, if they decide to make new monster and PrCs (likely, given their limited resources) these will not have been extensively play-tested. Like Joachim said, tie-ins for FR, Eberron, and even Greyhawk will be impossible.
Fortunately for this SH, Savage Tide will be completed before Dungeon goes the way of the dodo.
Fortunately for this SH, Savage Tide will be completed before Dungeon goes the way of the dodo.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
It's really sad to see this happen. The way the Adventure Paths were getting better (AoW and ST were really much better than SC), I would have liked that to continue. As always in the history of DnD, the business decisions by the various players have had many devastating effects on the game. This one seems no different...
BTW, JollyDoc, maybe you can offset these bad news with an update? Pretty please?
BTW, JollyDoc, maybe you can offset these bad news with an update?
Pretty please?
JollyDoc
Explorer
Since you asked so nicely...OK!
FARSHORE
Screams filled the smoke-laden air as cackling, howling men dressed in filthy armor and waving rusty, ragged weapons pressed the attack against Farshore’s unorganized defense. Up the hill, several buildings had been lit on fire, and issuing from one nearby the piers were frantic screams. Lying in the sand in front of another building was the body of a well-dressed man with a bloody wound to the chest and a savage gash across his face. His body was surrounded by fragile glassware spilled from a case he had been carrying. His chest rose and fell feebly, though for how much longer was uncertain.
Further south, a large band of filthy men was happily smashing in the windows of what appeared to be a chapel. More pirates were busy trying to bash in the chapel’s front doors with a heavy, wooden beam. Terrified screams came from within, and punctuated each of the ram’s blows.
Nearby, a hulking half-orc with blotchy, yellow skin and a leering, toothy smile chased a red-haired young woman around a neighboring building, shouting lurid propositions.
Deeper in the village, a group of young men armed with swords made a stand against what appeared to be the pirate leader, a tall and dangerous-looking man who laughed as he deflected their attacks with obvious ease.
Finally, a group of colonists desperately tried to extinguish a fire consuming a large building to the southeast, while others braved the flames to rescue its contents. More commotion could be heard from deeper in the village, but the thick, billowing smoke effectively masked what was transpiring there.
Mandi observed the scene grimly from the bow of the outrigger as the Mazticans rowed them towards the nearest pier.
“That’s Hevrik Aldwattle,” she said, pointing towards the wounded man. “He is a local alchemist that I have worked with in the past. And there,” she indicated the woman trying to elude the half-orc, “that is Ruby the Weaver. She is a kindly enough sort…for a human.”
“What about those buildings that are in flames?” Marius asked.
“That one is a farmhouse,” the wizard nodded towards the dwelling where the screams continued to issue from. “The larger one is the hall of records.”
“Well now,” the Seeker said, rubbing his chin, “we can’t have all that history lost, can we?” The warmage shook out his sleeves, and began gesticulating grandly, speaking aloud the arcane language of dragons. To the amazement of those aboard the canoe, a storm of sleet and hail suddenly appeared over the burning hall, and in a matter of moments, the flames were extinguished. The colonists around it could only stand and gape, open-mouthed.
“Show off,” Sepoto grumbled. “Do you think you can do something to slow up that bunch at the chapel? At the rate these fellows are paddling, the battle will be over before we reach dry land.”
“At your service,” Marius replied, sketching a mock bow. He began chanting again, concentrating on the group of pirates assaulting the church door. Cocking his arm back, he palmed a small bead of fire, and then sent it streaking across the water. The pea exploded several feet behind the ruffians, consuming all three of them, leaving nothing but charred remains. Their fellows paused in their window-breaking and stared, stunned. To their credit, however, they did not flee. Instead, they rushed to retrieve the ram, and redoubled their efforts against the chapel door.
Finally, the boat reached dock, and the Legionnaires hastened to disembark. As Mandi stepped onto the pier, her form shifted, sprouting gold-fletched wings, and she took to the sky.
“I’m going to see about Aldwattle,” she called over her shoulder. “Daelric, join me when you can!”
The young priest began moving into the town, following the rapidly moving avoral. Sepoto, meanwhile, rallied the others around him.
“I’m going to aid the lady,” he said. “Samson, you make for the chapel. Marius…do whatever it is you do best.”
“Of course,” the warmage said, gesturing casually and conjuring a second sleet storm around the burning farmhouse, dousing its flames as easily as he had the Hall of Records.
When Mandi reached the injured alchemist, she was relieved to find him still alive. Though she had no personal feelings for the human, she admired his skill and felt that it would be a waste of resources should he die such a meaningless death. Rummaging in her belt pouch, she drew out a healing draught and forced it down Aldwattle’s throat. Though his breathing slowed, and evened out, he remained unconscious. At that moment, Daelric came huffing and puffing up behind her.
“He’s stable,” the elf said, “but he still needs assistance. I’ll leave him to you. I’m going to deal with the ringleader.” Once more she took to the air, while Daelric knelt beside Aldwattle. Murmuring a prayer, he cast his hands over the man’s wounds. The alchemist’s eyes fluttered open, and he gasped as he recognized his savior.
“Daelric?” he asked. “Is that really you? We thought you lost!”
“The rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated,” the priest smiled. “You, however, have not been so fortunate. I need to get you to a safe place, and I want you to remain there until this is over.”
He helped the old man to his feet, draping an arm around his shoulders, and guiding him back into his establishment.
Mandi landed near the town well just as the pirate captain cut down another colonist. Several men still surrounded him, but now that the elf was close enough to get a good look, she saw, to her dismay, that they were not townsmen, but more cutthroats. The captain turned slowly towards her. He was tall, with leathery skin, and he held a wickedly curved rapier in one hand and a punching dagger in the other. Coils of knotted rope were wrapped around his arms and torso in a tangled display. Many of them were fashioned into nooses, and hanging from quite a few were morbid trinkets such as jawbones, skeletal hands, and leathery trophies. From his neck dangled a hangman’s noose.
“Well, well, what be we havin’ here, lads?” he said, leering at Mandi. “A pretty birdie fer ole Slipknot Peet? Come a little closer, birdie, and we’ll pluck those feathers right and proper, right mates?”
The other pirates laughed and hooted, hefting their weapons and moving slowly towards the mage. Mandi smiled in return, her fingers already beginning to dance.
“Pathetic,” she said as she completed her spell. The pirates seemed to freeze momentarily in place, and when they began moving again, it was if they were mired in quicksand, laboriously pulling one foot in front of the other.
“She’s a witch!” Slipknot called. “She ain’t nothin’ wid’out her magic! C’mon lads!” Though slowed himself, he continued to surge forward, waving his men to follow. A sudden explosion behind him, though, caused his eyes to go wide with shock and dawning fear. A blast of fire had completely engulfed his comrades, and all that remained of them was ash in man-shaped piles. A small, grim-faced gnome stepped out of a nearby alley.
“I could have handled this, Marius,” Mandi snapped, a thin pink ray of energy arcing from her outstretched finger to strike the pirate captain in the chest. Slipknot Peet stumbled and almost fell as his equilibrium left him.
“Yes, but why should I let you have all the fun?” her fellow Seeker replied, another spell already on his lips. Suddenly, Slipknot’s eyes flew open in rank terror, spittle drooling from his mouth. He staggered back as best he could, trying to ward off some unseen assailant.
“No!” he cried. “Cap’n Wyther! I didn’t mean no harm! Please!”
He clutched at his chest, his lips going blue, and then collapsed face-first into the dirt.
Samson arrived at the chapel as the two pirates slammed their makeshift ram into the doors again, causing the wood to splinter.
“Why don’t you two try picking on someone your own size?” the goblin taunted, smacking his morningstar against his palm. The pair looked at each other, and then back at their diminutive foe and began to laugh. Dropping the ram, they drew their weapons and started to advance, trying to circle and flank the dragon shaman. Samson was in motion before they knew what happened, dropping low and catching one man behind the knees, and then spinning to slam the second in his lower spine. As the first pirate’s legs buckled, the little goblin smashed in his skull. The second man was still falling forward when Samson stood and snapped his neck with an overhand strike. Cheers sounded from within the church.
As Sepoto stepped into the road, a few yards from where the half-orc still pursued Ruby, the weaver stumbled, falling heavily to the ground. The disgusting pirate was after her immediately, but then his eyes fell on the goliath. Sepoto said nothing, but wagged his finger back and forth. Snarling, the half-orc leaped at the crusader, only to be cut down before he’d cleared half the distance. He slammed to the ground, writhing in pain, not knowing how he’d gotten there. A split-second later he didn’t have to concern himself with it ever again. Ruby looked up at her hero, her eyes sparkling with tears. Sepoto helped her to her feet, and she threw her arms around him, covering his neck with kisses of appreciation. The big goliath just smiled. ‘Beats a cabin boy,’ he thought to himself.
____________________________________________________________
As the smoke from the battle began to clear, the frightened citizens of Farshore slowly began to emerge from their battered homes and shelters, getting their first good look at their rescuers. Then, from out of the gloom strode several familiar figures. In the lead was Lavinia Vanderboren, followed by the Jade Ravens. Lugnut trailed, dragging a gagging, choking pirate by the neck. When Lavinia first saw the Legionnaires, her face lit up, but just as quickly that light was replaced by confusion as she began to realize that some were missing, and then dawning grief as she recognized who was among that number.
“Anwar?” she asked, her voice catching.
It was Samson who stepped forward, bowing his head.
“He fell, my lady, while defending Captain Venkalie and the boy, Tavey. It was a demon. It cut him down in an eye blink. His death was quick. He did not suffer. Basil and Thrisp were also lost in the demon’s lair as we sought to rescue Urol Forol, whom the demon and its mates had abducted. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such news.”
Lavinia, through an act of inhuman will, managed to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from falling. She nodded at Samson’s explanation, and then turned to those she had not met, Daelric and Ozymandia. Mandi kept her face carefully neutral as she regarded the young noblewoman. The resemblance was uncanny, and just for a moment, the elf maid felt a pang of loss and regret for what might have been.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Lavinia said, summoning a faint smile. “I’m Lavinia Vanderboren, and these are some of my retainers, the Jade Ravens.”
“I know who you are,” Mandi said, not unkindly, “though I must admit, I am a bit taken aback at actually meeting you. And I am intimately familiar with the Order of the Jade Raven.”
Tolin Kientai and Zan Oldavin looked puzzled. “I journeyed here with your parents,” Mandi continued, “as a member of the Jade Ravens. Surely you know that the Order has served your family for decades? I was actually one of their original number, and so at your father’s behest, my comrades and I came to Farshore. When your parents departed, they left us behind as their representatives. Obviously they recruited new members to serve their purposes in Tashluta. Alas, I am the last of the team left here. My companions all met with various untimely ends, the last one on the journey that Daelric and I have just returned from.”
“Yes,” Daelric chimed in. “I too accompanied the original colonists, though at the behest of Vesserin Catherly, the chaplain. Mandi and I stumbled across what was left of your Legion quite by accident after most of our group had also been taken by the demons.”
“These two have acquitted themselves quite well, my Lady,” Sepoto said. “We would be well served to have them among our number.”
“You all have my gratitude,” Lavinia responded, though great sadness was still mirrored in her eyes, “and I welcome you to Farshore.”
At that moment, another figure stepped out of the crowd. He was towering and handsome, with a well-groomed beard and clad in a shining suit of mithral chainmail. The likeness of his features to those of Avner Meravanchi was uncanny to those who had known the fop.
“Are these the ones you spoke of?” he asked Lavinia without preamble.
“Um…yes,” Lavinia said quickly. Her normally calm demeanor seemed to tense at the man’s abrupt appearance. “Lord Manthalay Meravanchi, allow me to introduce my Legionnaires.”
Mandi and Daelric were already well acquainted with Lord Meravanchi. He too had been among the original colonists, and had provided substantial financial support for the endeavor. When the Vanderborens departed for Tashluta, they had left Manthalay in charge. In the interval, with each passing year making it seem less and less likely that the Vanderborens would return, Lord Meravanchi had become the de facto leader of the colony. It was no secret that he wished to focus Farshore’s efforts at annexing the Seven Villages of the Mazticans so that he might build enough wealth, resources and power to someday return to Tashluta and wrest control of his family from his brother, Zebulah. Mandi could only imagine what a tailspin Lavinia’s sudden appearance had thrown him into. She smiled coldly to herself.
“I don’t see my nephew among them,” Manthalay observed, mock-craning his neck.
“Your nephew was lost at sea, when our ship, the Sea Wyvern, grounded itself on a reef,” Samson explained.
“I see,” the older Meravanchi nodded, and something in his tone told Samson that this was not entirely unpleasant news. “A pity,” the nobleman said. “I shall be distressed to send such tidings to my brother. For the moment, however, we have more pressing issues. I suggest that we retire to the chapel and discuss what has happened here.”
Lavinia nodded her agreement, and turned to follow. “Lug, bring the prisoner,” she said. The big ogre jerked the gurgling pirate into the air, until he stared eyeball to eyeball with him. “C’mon you! Seems like you got an appointment with the muckety-mucks. I’m sure they’ll give ya a fair trial, followed by a first class hangin’!” He guffawed uproariously and dropped the man unceremoniously to the ground, then grabbed one boot and began dragging him towards the chapel. The Legionnaires followed, as did several of the townspeople, as well as Urol and Amella. No one noticed the look of cold, stoic rage in the sea captain’s eyes. Her face had shown no expression during the explanation of Anwar’s death, nor during Lavinia’s tearful reaction. No, Amella Venkalie was made of sterner stuff, and she would not wear her heart so openly upon her sleeve. Still, she knew that she must leave Farshore, and soon, or she would lose her mind.
_________________________________________________________
The gathering in the small chapel included Lavinia, the Jade Ravens, the Legionnaires, Urol, Amella, Lord Meravanchi, and the rest of the town council, which consisted of Hevrik Aldwattle, Vesserin Catherly, Telda Syren, a local expert on the flora and fauna of the island, and Ulvar Kabbanja, the leader of the Farshore Militia.
Lavinia’s first order of business was to ask for damage reports from each of the council members. Each one spoke of damage done to buildings, a few losses to fire, and a few deaths. In the end, however, it seemed Farshore had been lucky. Only ten colonists had been killed. The pirates were disorganized and had seemed more interested in spreading fear and robbing people than actual destruction. All agreed that the fortuitous arrival of the Legion may well have been the key factor in weathering the attack with so few deaths.
Next, Lavinia asked for a synopsis of the fate of the Sea Wyvern and her crew, and of the doings of the Legion since the shipwreck. Sepoto and Samson provided most of the narrative, with Marius filling in various details. When the topic of Anwar’s death came up again, the young noblewoman bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hand. As the tale concluded, a man burst into the room, waving a sheaf of papers and babbling excitedly.
“My Lords and Ladies!” he said breathless. “We found these on the Hellfish, the pirates’ ship. This was only a scouting party. The Kraken Society is planning a full scale invasion sometime soon!”
All those present began speaking at once, their cacophony drowning out one another. Finally, Lavinia banged her gavel on the table before her, calling for order. When the crowd had settled down, she turned to Lugnut.
“Bring in the prisoner,” she ordered.
The ogre obliged, dragging the pitiful scoundrel in. The man’s features were bruised and sunken. His skin was flushed, one of his eyes was blackened, and his left hand was missing, though this latter wound appeared to be an old one. Lugnut shoved him rudely to the center of the room.
“What is your name?” Lavinia asked, her tone calm, but with steel beneath it.
“Lefty, mum,” the pirate mumbled.
“Speak up!” Lugnut shouted, cuffing the ruffian.
“That will be enough, Lugnut,” Lavinia ordered. “Lefty,” she continued, “tell us everything you know of this attack, and the plans of the Kraken Society. If you do, I promise you, it will go much better for you. If you do not, I promise as well that we will deal as harshly with you as you and your shipmates planned to do with us.”
Manthalay shot Lavinia a look that went unnoticed by all save Mandi. She could tell that the noble was not happy with the direction the interrogation was going.
“I understand, mum,” Lefty said, wincing as if he expected another blow from the ogre. “I’ll tell ye what I know. We came from Rat’s End, a pimple on the arse end o’th’world outpost on an island not far from’ere. Our Cap’n, Slipknot Peet, he brung all o’us on this mission, which were supposed t’just be a scoutin’ expedition. He’d been in touch wit th’high command, usin’ some sort o’magic or other, and they’d promised us a place in th’fleet if we scouted our yer colony fer the next few weeks. They said a large fleet o’ships was comin’ here on other business, and they planned t’sack yer town then, usin’ what information we’d come up with. Peet, though, he had other ideas. He told us we had two months t’loot th’place and escape t’safer waters wit our booty afore the rest o’the fleet got here.”
“How many ships are coming?” Lavinia asked. “When, exactly are they scheduled to arrive?”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, mum, but I truly don’t know,” Lefty answered. When Lugnut raised his arm, the pirate cringed. “On me life! I swear it! The Cap’n never told us how many or when! He just said we had two months!”
“I believe you,” Lavinia said. “Your information has been very helpful, and now…”
“And now,” Manthalay interrupted, “you will be executed publicly for your crimes.”
Lefty’s face went pale beneath his bruises and Lugnut grinned. Lavinia’s face flushed red.
“Lord Meravanchi,” she said, standing “I gave my word to this man that his willing assistance would earn him leniency, and I always keep my word. He will be put to hard labor, helping to repair the damage he and his men caused. If he works diligently, in time he may earn his freedom and a place among our colony. We can always use skilled seamen.”
“I see,” Manthalay said icily. “You are, of course, correct. We should reward all those who threaten us with citizenship. Perhaps when the Kraken Society fleet arrives, we should offer up the whole town to them!”
“Your sarcasm is neither warranted, nor helpful,” Lavinia answered coldly. “We have urgent matters to discuss here. It would seem that time is not on our side. Now,” she turned back to the council members, all of whom had watched the exchange between her and Lord Meravanchi with great interest, “we must prioritize our areas of greatest need so that we may know how best to proceed in preparing our defense.”
The discussion went on for several hours. In the end, it became obvious that there were five very broad goals that needed to be achieved over the next eight weeks, assuming they truly had that long. First, there were many places that the town itself could be improved and fortified, including the chapel, the harbor, the infirmary, the militia, the palisade and the watchtowers. Second, Farshore’s militia wasn’t nearly large enough to defend against a large-scale attack, a fact made painfully obvious by the day’s events. Without help from the Maztican islanders who dwelt in the nearby Seven Villages, things looked grim indeed. Third, there were other, stranger tribes of humanoids dwelling in the islands interior, tribes whose aid would doubtless further shore up the town. The phanatons were one such tribe. Local legends also told of a race of catlike humanoids called rakastas. The locals believed that the last of them had died out years ago, but they were renowned for there skill in weapon crafting, and it was possible that hidden caches of such weaponry still existed at the sites of their old temples. Fourth, many supplies were damaged in the attack, supplies that could be replaced by the cargo still carried by the Sea Wyvern. For that matter, if the Sea Wyvern herself could be repaired, she could give Farshore a huge advantage in defending against seagoing pirates. Last, the island itself had many resources that could prove beneficial. A large tar pit, located deep in the jungle, could supply the colony with tar to shore up defenses and repair damaged ships and buildings, but only if access to the pits could be gained.
The meeting adjourned on this note. The council would spread the word, and decide how best to go about accomplishing their goals. As the crowd exited the building, Lavinia called for the Legionnaires to remain.
“You may not have noticed,” she said, “but Lord Meravanchi does not care much for my presence here. I think it has disrupted his plans. His expansionist agenda can only serve to fuel hostility towards us among the natives. I feel in my heart that we must continue on our course of becoming a well-defended trading post, existing in peace with the Mazticans. Only then can my parents’ dream be realized. I am asking for your help in the coming days and weeks to be my eyes and ears among the townsfolk. You have already made a reputation for yourselves, and will be highly regarded among the people. I fear that Lord Meravanchi will call for an election soon, putting the question of Farshore’s future leadership to a vote. I will need all the help I can get.
“We are your humble servants, my Lady,” Sepoto said, bowing his head. Samson and Marius nodded, as did Daelric. Only Mandi showed no sign of assent or dissent.
_______________________________________________________
Over the next two weeks, the Legion members, those who were not already locals, established themselves as part of the community, pitching in right alongside the townspeople to help prepare for the coming war.
Mandi returned to Aldwattle’s laboratory, assisting him in putting it right again, and teaching the old alchemist some time-saving techniques which would greatly improve his productivity for the colony. The elf wizard was also able to direct Urol Forol to Telda Syren at the town greenhouse, and the gnome’s added insight vastly increased her collection of exotic spices, herbs and other plants.
Daelric also returned to familiar environments, convincing Sepoto to come with him to the chapel. The building was the primary religious center for the settlement, and various faiths shared one roof there. The main worship room was non-denominational, and numerous small shrines filled alcoves along the walls. The most popular among these were those devoted to Mielikki, Lathander, and Shaundekal. Vesserin Catherly was the resident priest, but he had only four acolytes to assist him. With the arrival of the Blue Nixie, however, he had gained a much more powerful follower in the personage of Bombur, the Jade Raven priest of Moradin. With the added assistance of Daelric and Sepoto, the spiritual well-being of the colony was markedly improved. In fact, Sepoto became quite a draw for the chapel’s weekly services, his fiery sermons from the pulpit admonishing the citizens to step up and do their duty. He presented militia detail as a sacred obligation, for freedom always came with a price. Furthermore, he spoke of reaching out and bringing spiritual guidance to the Mazticans, subtly espousing Lavinia’s political goals. It was during these days that Vesserin mentioned to his new recruits that something had been weighing on his conscience for over a year. A missionary of Lathander named Noltus Inersol, who came to Farshore independent of the other colonists, sought to spread the teachings of his faith up and down the Maztican peninsula. He spent several days preparing for this mission in Farshore. He had not been seen nor heard from since, and Vesserin hoped that he still lived. The priest asked his new allies to keep an eye out for signs of the missing missionary should any of their missions take them into the island’s interior.
The Legionnaires enjoined thr members of the Jade Ravens to assist the town efforts in other ways as well. Bombur managed to teach Telda Syren some new advances in battlefield triage, so that when the time came, the infirmary would operate at peak efficiency. In addition, it came to Sepoto’s attention that a small but tenacious tribe of troglodytes that dwelt near the center of Temute Island, had long been problematic for the colonists. The tribe lived in a sizeable cave overlooking a forest of banana trees that were ideal for lumber, but the colonists could not enter the area for fear of being attacked. Worse, over recent months, these attacks had crept increasingly closer to the colony’s boundaries. Sepoto ordered the Jade Ravens to ferret out the trogs, a task which Lugnut took to enthusiastically. When they returned several days later, the ogre trailed a rope behind him to which had been tied almost two dozen troglodyte heads. He called it his conga line, after a traditional ogre dance, and would cavort around the town square with it in a grisly parody of the ritual.
Work was started on the building of two new watchtowers to guard the town’s approaches from the east and south. The entire town was a flurry of activity, and the Legion was in the thick of it. During all of this, Lavinia was also among the people, echoing Sepoto’s words, entreating the folk to step up and not depend on others to do for them. They had to help themselves if they were to have any hope of continuing to exist. She was a natural leader, as anyone could see, and yet Lord Meravanchi was not idle. His own campaign contradicted Lavinia’s, extolling the virtues of Manifest Destiny. If the Mazticans were made to join them, they would have the beginnings of a nation, not just a colony. He also used the example of Lefty the pirate as a means of foretelling just what sort of society Lavinia would create for Farshore…one were criminals were allowed to go free, and decent folk could not feel safe in their own homes. His words were extreme, but nonetheless, there were those who listened.
_______________________________________________________________
After two weeks, Lavinia appealed to the Legion members to make the journey to Tanaroa. The natives of the largest of the Seven Villages had been particularly hesitant about supplying aid to the colonists, and since the other six villages looked to the Tanaroans for leadership, they too had been reluctant in their assistance. If Tanaroa could be convinced to throw in its lot with Farshore, however, the other Mazticans would follow suit.
The trip to Tanaroa took four days, both by canoe and by foot. As the company neared the village, they could hear a pulsating rhythm being pounded out on hollow logs. It seemed as if some sort of ritual were taking place. When they entered the village itself, they saw that the entire population was gathered around a huge, flaming pyre erected at the base of the village’s central pyramid. Dozens of warriors wearing large masks depicting a monstrous bat, danced to the frenzied beat, while the other natives chanted the same word over and over, “Zotzilaha.”
“The Maztican god of bats and things that fly in the night,” Mandi explained quietly. “He also holds influence over the Underworld, and is associated with diseases and plagues.”
“Sounds charming,” Marius smirked.
In the center of the pyre was a charred bat totem, and as the companions drew nearer, the effigy flashed with a sudden blast of brilliance. A cascade of sparks and flame from the bonfire elicited startled screams from the villagers. A shape became momentarily visible in the fire as the effigy itself came to life. A lean, humanoid figure covered in short, black fur rose from the flames, its head that of a snarling bat with glowing red eyes. Large membranous wings from its back beat against the flames like a bellows, sending hot cinders swirling. The creature shrieked out a short phrase in Maztican. Mandi translated, though strangely, Sepoto found that he needed no such assistance. He understood the creature clearly.
“Zotzilaha hears your sniveling prayers! You would appease the Great Bat? Then return what has been stolen or burn!”
The creature then burst into flames, sending a flight of bats with wings of fire spiraling into the air above the totem. At the same moment, a tremor rumbled through the ground, and in the distance to the northwest, two great volcanoes flashed with fresh plumes of fire and smoke. The villagers began to panic, and scattered in all directions, the fire bats pursuing them. All the while, Sepoto instinctively knew that the strange idol they had recovered in Tamoachan, and which he still carried, was the item of which the bat god spoke.
The fire bats continued chasing the panicked natives until a lance of pure sound from Mandi dropped one of them in midair. At that point, the entire flocked turned on the Legion as one. The battle was brief, but furious. Each time one of the diminutive little demons struck, it would attach itself to its victim and begin burning the flesh around it. Worse still, the wounds inflicted upon the bats healed almost instantly, and as soon as one dropped to the ground, another would revive and resume the assault. It was Marius who eventually stumbled upon the solution, conjuring a storm of ice and sleet around the beasts. The cold seemed to sear them as flame would another creature, and the damage inflicted by the barrage did not regenerate. Soon the air was clear once more, and the villagers began to drift back towards the pyramid.
It was at this point that Sepoto took the bat idol from his pack.
“Remember this?” he asked Marius and Samson.
“Oh no,” the Seeker moaned. “Don’t tell me that’s what this is all about.”
“What exactly is that?” Mandi asked, but before Sepoto had a chance to respond, the villagers spotted the idol, and a furor erupted around the Legionnaires. A moment later, a wizened woman pushed her way through the crowd and stood defiantly before the adventurers, her eyes as hard as steel.
“You are thieves and defilers!” she shouted in Common. “It is you who have caused the Fangs of Zotzilaha to shake, and have brought the wrath of the Bat Lord down upon us!”
“You misunderstand,” Mandi said, raising her hands in supplication. “Explain it to her Sepoto, and it had better be good.”
“We did not steal the idol,” the crusader began. “We found it within ancient ruins on the mainland. We had no idea what it was.”
“Liars!” the woman shrieked. “I, J’kal, chieftain of Tanaroa accuse you of deceit and desecration! You must return the idol to Zotzilaha’s shrine within Nextepeua, He Who Rains Ashes, in order to appease the god! If you do not do this, the wrath of my entire village will fall upon you!”
“Now see here,” Mandi said, her ire rising at the gall of the savages, “my friend just told you that we have never been to that volcano. The idol was found thousands of miles from here. We would be happy to return it, but I advise to be cautious in the threats that you make. You saw how we dealt with the bat demons while your warriors fled. We do not take warnings kindly.”
“Then how about a promise?” J’kal snapped, her voice venom. “If you do not return the idol this very day, I shall rouse all of the Seven Villages, and we shall march an entire army upon your colony at Farshore!”
“So much for diplomacy,” Marius sighed.
FARSHORE
Screams filled the smoke-laden air as cackling, howling men dressed in filthy armor and waving rusty, ragged weapons pressed the attack against Farshore’s unorganized defense. Up the hill, several buildings had been lit on fire, and issuing from one nearby the piers were frantic screams. Lying in the sand in front of another building was the body of a well-dressed man with a bloody wound to the chest and a savage gash across his face. His body was surrounded by fragile glassware spilled from a case he had been carrying. His chest rose and fell feebly, though for how much longer was uncertain.
Further south, a large band of filthy men was happily smashing in the windows of what appeared to be a chapel. More pirates were busy trying to bash in the chapel’s front doors with a heavy, wooden beam. Terrified screams came from within, and punctuated each of the ram’s blows.
Nearby, a hulking half-orc with blotchy, yellow skin and a leering, toothy smile chased a red-haired young woman around a neighboring building, shouting lurid propositions.
Deeper in the village, a group of young men armed with swords made a stand against what appeared to be the pirate leader, a tall and dangerous-looking man who laughed as he deflected their attacks with obvious ease.
Finally, a group of colonists desperately tried to extinguish a fire consuming a large building to the southeast, while others braved the flames to rescue its contents. More commotion could be heard from deeper in the village, but the thick, billowing smoke effectively masked what was transpiring there.
Mandi observed the scene grimly from the bow of the outrigger as the Mazticans rowed them towards the nearest pier.
“That’s Hevrik Aldwattle,” she said, pointing towards the wounded man. “He is a local alchemist that I have worked with in the past. And there,” she indicated the woman trying to elude the half-orc, “that is Ruby the Weaver. She is a kindly enough sort…for a human.”
“What about those buildings that are in flames?” Marius asked.
“That one is a farmhouse,” the wizard nodded towards the dwelling where the screams continued to issue from. “The larger one is the hall of records.”
“Well now,” the Seeker said, rubbing his chin, “we can’t have all that history lost, can we?” The warmage shook out his sleeves, and began gesticulating grandly, speaking aloud the arcane language of dragons. To the amazement of those aboard the canoe, a storm of sleet and hail suddenly appeared over the burning hall, and in a matter of moments, the flames were extinguished. The colonists around it could only stand and gape, open-mouthed.
“Show off,” Sepoto grumbled. “Do you think you can do something to slow up that bunch at the chapel? At the rate these fellows are paddling, the battle will be over before we reach dry land.”
“At your service,” Marius replied, sketching a mock bow. He began chanting again, concentrating on the group of pirates assaulting the church door. Cocking his arm back, he palmed a small bead of fire, and then sent it streaking across the water. The pea exploded several feet behind the ruffians, consuming all three of them, leaving nothing but charred remains. Their fellows paused in their window-breaking and stared, stunned. To their credit, however, they did not flee. Instead, they rushed to retrieve the ram, and redoubled their efforts against the chapel door.
Finally, the boat reached dock, and the Legionnaires hastened to disembark. As Mandi stepped onto the pier, her form shifted, sprouting gold-fletched wings, and she took to the sky.
“I’m going to see about Aldwattle,” she called over her shoulder. “Daelric, join me when you can!”
The young priest began moving into the town, following the rapidly moving avoral. Sepoto, meanwhile, rallied the others around him.
“I’m going to aid the lady,” he said. “Samson, you make for the chapel. Marius…do whatever it is you do best.”
“Of course,” the warmage said, gesturing casually and conjuring a second sleet storm around the burning farmhouse, dousing its flames as easily as he had the Hall of Records.
When Mandi reached the injured alchemist, she was relieved to find him still alive. Though she had no personal feelings for the human, she admired his skill and felt that it would be a waste of resources should he die such a meaningless death. Rummaging in her belt pouch, she drew out a healing draught and forced it down Aldwattle’s throat. Though his breathing slowed, and evened out, he remained unconscious. At that moment, Daelric came huffing and puffing up behind her.
“He’s stable,” the elf said, “but he still needs assistance. I’ll leave him to you. I’m going to deal with the ringleader.” Once more she took to the air, while Daelric knelt beside Aldwattle. Murmuring a prayer, he cast his hands over the man’s wounds. The alchemist’s eyes fluttered open, and he gasped as he recognized his savior.
“Daelric?” he asked. “Is that really you? We thought you lost!”
“The rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated,” the priest smiled. “You, however, have not been so fortunate. I need to get you to a safe place, and I want you to remain there until this is over.”
He helped the old man to his feet, draping an arm around his shoulders, and guiding him back into his establishment.
Mandi landed near the town well just as the pirate captain cut down another colonist. Several men still surrounded him, but now that the elf was close enough to get a good look, she saw, to her dismay, that they were not townsmen, but more cutthroats. The captain turned slowly towards her. He was tall, with leathery skin, and he held a wickedly curved rapier in one hand and a punching dagger in the other. Coils of knotted rope were wrapped around his arms and torso in a tangled display. Many of them were fashioned into nooses, and hanging from quite a few were morbid trinkets such as jawbones, skeletal hands, and leathery trophies. From his neck dangled a hangman’s noose.
“Well, well, what be we havin’ here, lads?” he said, leering at Mandi. “A pretty birdie fer ole Slipknot Peet? Come a little closer, birdie, and we’ll pluck those feathers right and proper, right mates?”
The other pirates laughed and hooted, hefting their weapons and moving slowly towards the mage. Mandi smiled in return, her fingers already beginning to dance.
“Pathetic,” she said as she completed her spell. The pirates seemed to freeze momentarily in place, and when they began moving again, it was if they were mired in quicksand, laboriously pulling one foot in front of the other.
“She’s a witch!” Slipknot called. “She ain’t nothin’ wid’out her magic! C’mon lads!” Though slowed himself, he continued to surge forward, waving his men to follow. A sudden explosion behind him, though, caused his eyes to go wide with shock and dawning fear. A blast of fire had completely engulfed his comrades, and all that remained of them was ash in man-shaped piles. A small, grim-faced gnome stepped out of a nearby alley.
“I could have handled this, Marius,” Mandi snapped, a thin pink ray of energy arcing from her outstretched finger to strike the pirate captain in the chest. Slipknot Peet stumbled and almost fell as his equilibrium left him.
“Yes, but why should I let you have all the fun?” her fellow Seeker replied, another spell already on his lips. Suddenly, Slipknot’s eyes flew open in rank terror, spittle drooling from his mouth. He staggered back as best he could, trying to ward off some unseen assailant.
“No!” he cried. “Cap’n Wyther! I didn’t mean no harm! Please!”
He clutched at his chest, his lips going blue, and then collapsed face-first into the dirt.
Samson arrived at the chapel as the two pirates slammed their makeshift ram into the doors again, causing the wood to splinter.
“Why don’t you two try picking on someone your own size?” the goblin taunted, smacking his morningstar against his palm. The pair looked at each other, and then back at their diminutive foe and began to laugh. Dropping the ram, they drew their weapons and started to advance, trying to circle and flank the dragon shaman. Samson was in motion before they knew what happened, dropping low and catching one man behind the knees, and then spinning to slam the second in his lower spine. As the first pirate’s legs buckled, the little goblin smashed in his skull. The second man was still falling forward when Samson stood and snapped his neck with an overhand strike. Cheers sounded from within the church.
As Sepoto stepped into the road, a few yards from where the half-orc still pursued Ruby, the weaver stumbled, falling heavily to the ground. The disgusting pirate was after her immediately, but then his eyes fell on the goliath. Sepoto said nothing, but wagged his finger back and forth. Snarling, the half-orc leaped at the crusader, only to be cut down before he’d cleared half the distance. He slammed to the ground, writhing in pain, not knowing how he’d gotten there. A split-second later he didn’t have to concern himself with it ever again. Ruby looked up at her hero, her eyes sparkling with tears. Sepoto helped her to her feet, and she threw her arms around him, covering his neck with kisses of appreciation. The big goliath just smiled. ‘Beats a cabin boy,’ he thought to himself.
____________________________________________________________
As the smoke from the battle began to clear, the frightened citizens of Farshore slowly began to emerge from their battered homes and shelters, getting their first good look at their rescuers. Then, from out of the gloom strode several familiar figures. In the lead was Lavinia Vanderboren, followed by the Jade Ravens. Lugnut trailed, dragging a gagging, choking pirate by the neck. When Lavinia first saw the Legionnaires, her face lit up, but just as quickly that light was replaced by confusion as she began to realize that some were missing, and then dawning grief as she recognized who was among that number.
“Anwar?” she asked, her voice catching.
It was Samson who stepped forward, bowing his head.
“He fell, my lady, while defending Captain Venkalie and the boy, Tavey. It was a demon. It cut him down in an eye blink. His death was quick. He did not suffer. Basil and Thrisp were also lost in the demon’s lair as we sought to rescue Urol Forol, whom the demon and its mates had abducted. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such news.”
Lavinia, through an act of inhuman will, managed to keep the tears that welled in her eyes from falling. She nodded at Samson’s explanation, and then turned to those she had not met, Daelric and Ozymandia. Mandi kept her face carefully neutral as she regarded the young noblewoman. The resemblance was uncanny, and just for a moment, the elf maid felt a pang of loss and regret for what might have been.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Lavinia said, summoning a faint smile. “I’m Lavinia Vanderboren, and these are some of my retainers, the Jade Ravens.”
“I know who you are,” Mandi said, not unkindly, “though I must admit, I am a bit taken aback at actually meeting you. And I am intimately familiar with the Order of the Jade Raven.”
Tolin Kientai and Zan Oldavin looked puzzled. “I journeyed here with your parents,” Mandi continued, “as a member of the Jade Ravens. Surely you know that the Order has served your family for decades? I was actually one of their original number, and so at your father’s behest, my comrades and I came to Farshore. When your parents departed, they left us behind as their representatives. Obviously they recruited new members to serve their purposes in Tashluta. Alas, I am the last of the team left here. My companions all met with various untimely ends, the last one on the journey that Daelric and I have just returned from.”
“Yes,” Daelric chimed in. “I too accompanied the original colonists, though at the behest of Vesserin Catherly, the chaplain. Mandi and I stumbled across what was left of your Legion quite by accident after most of our group had also been taken by the demons.”
“These two have acquitted themselves quite well, my Lady,” Sepoto said. “We would be well served to have them among our number.”
“You all have my gratitude,” Lavinia responded, though great sadness was still mirrored in her eyes, “and I welcome you to Farshore.”
At that moment, another figure stepped out of the crowd. He was towering and handsome, with a well-groomed beard and clad in a shining suit of mithral chainmail. The likeness of his features to those of Avner Meravanchi was uncanny to those who had known the fop.
“Are these the ones you spoke of?” he asked Lavinia without preamble.
“Um…yes,” Lavinia said quickly. Her normally calm demeanor seemed to tense at the man’s abrupt appearance. “Lord Manthalay Meravanchi, allow me to introduce my Legionnaires.”
Mandi and Daelric were already well acquainted with Lord Meravanchi. He too had been among the original colonists, and had provided substantial financial support for the endeavor. When the Vanderborens departed for Tashluta, they had left Manthalay in charge. In the interval, with each passing year making it seem less and less likely that the Vanderborens would return, Lord Meravanchi had become the de facto leader of the colony. It was no secret that he wished to focus Farshore’s efforts at annexing the Seven Villages of the Mazticans so that he might build enough wealth, resources and power to someday return to Tashluta and wrest control of his family from his brother, Zebulah. Mandi could only imagine what a tailspin Lavinia’s sudden appearance had thrown him into. She smiled coldly to herself.
“I don’t see my nephew among them,” Manthalay observed, mock-craning his neck.
“Your nephew was lost at sea, when our ship, the Sea Wyvern, grounded itself on a reef,” Samson explained.
“I see,” the older Meravanchi nodded, and something in his tone told Samson that this was not entirely unpleasant news. “A pity,” the nobleman said. “I shall be distressed to send such tidings to my brother. For the moment, however, we have more pressing issues. I suggest that we retire to the chapel and discuss what has happened here.”
Lavinia nodded her agreement, and turned to follow. “Lug, bring the prisoner,” she said. The big ogre jerked the gurgling pirate into the air, until he stared eyeball to eyeball with him. “C’mon you! Seems like you got an appointment with the muckety-mucks. I’m sure they’ll give ya a fair trial, followed by a first class hangin’!” He guffawed uproariously and dropped the man unceremoniously to the ground, then grabbed one boot and began dragging him towards the chapel. The Legionnaires followed, as did several of the townspeople, as well as Urol and Amella. No one noticed the look of cold, stoic rage in the sea captain’s eyes. Her face had shown no expression during the explanation of Anwar’s death, nor during Lavinia’s tearful reaction. No, Amella Venkalie was made of sterner stuff, and she would not wear her heart so openly upon her sleeve. Still, she knew that she must leave Farshore, and soon, or she would lose her mind.
_________________________________________________________
The gathering in the small chapel included Lavinia, the Jade Ravens, the Legionnaires, Urol, Amella, Lord Meravanchi, and the rest of the town council, which consisted of Hevrik Aldwattle, Vesserin Catherly, Telda Syren, a local expert on the flora and fauna of the island, and Ulvar Kabbanja, the leader of the Farshore Militia.
Lavinia’s first order of business was to ask for damage reports from each of the council members. Each one spoke of damage done to buildings, a few losses to fire, and a few deaths. In the end, however, it seemed Farshore had been lucky. Only ten colonists had been killed. The pirates were disorganized and had seemed more interested in spreading fear and robbing people than actual destruction. All agreed that the fortuitous arrival of the Legion may well have been the key factor in weathering the attack with so few deaths.
Next, Lavinia asked for a synopsis of the fate of the Sea Wyvern and her crew, and of the doings of the Legion since the shipwreck. Sepoto and Samson provided most of the narrative, with Marius filling in various details. When the topic of Anwar’s death came up again, the young noblewoman bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hand. As the tale concluded, a man burst into the room, waving a sheaf of papers and babbling excitedly.
“My Lords and Ladies!” he said breathless. “We found these on the Hellfish, the pirates’ ship. This was only a scouting party. The Kraken Society is planning a full scale invasion sometime soon!”
All those present began speaking at once, their cacophony drowning out one another. Finally, Lavinia banged her gavel on the table before her, calling for order. When the crowd had settled down, she turned to Lugnut.
“Bring in the prisoner,” she ordered.
The ogre obliged, dragging the pitiful scoundrel in. The man’s features were bruised and sunken. His skin was flushed, one of his eyes was blackened, and his left hand was missing, though this latter wound appeared to be an old one. Lugnut shoved him rudely to the center of the room.
“What is your name?” Lavinia asked, her tone calm, but with steel beneath it.
“Lefty, mum,” the pirate mumbled.
“Speak up!” Lugnut shouted, cuffing the ruffian.
“That will be enough, Lugnut,” Lavinia ordered. “Lefty,” she continued, “tell us everything you know of this attack, and the plans of the Kraken Society. If you do, I promise you, it will go much better for you. If you do not, I promise as well that we will deal as harshly with you as you and your shipmates planned to do with us.”
Manthalay shot Lavinia a look that went unnoticed by all save Mandi. She could tell that the noble was not happy with the direction the interrogation was going.
“I understand, mum,” Lefty said, wincing as if he expected another blow from the ogre. “I’ll tell ye what I know. We came from Rat’s End, a pimple on the arse end o’th’world outpost on an island not far from’ere. Our Cap’n, Slipknot Peet, he brung all o’us on this mission, which were supposed t’just be a scoutin’ expedition. He’d been in touch wit th’high command, usin’ some sort o’magic or other, and they’d promised us a place in th’fleet if we scouted our yer colony fer the next few weeks. They said a large fleet o’ships was comin’ here on other business, and they planned t’sack yer town then, usin’ what information we’d come up with. Peet, though, he had other ideas. He told us we had two months t’loot th’place and escape t’safer waters wit our booty afore the rest o’the fleet got here.”
“How many ships are coming?” Lavinia asked. “When, exactly are they scheduled to arrive?”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, mum, but I truly don’t know,” Lefty answered. When Lugnut raised his arm, the pirate cringed. “On me life! I swear it! The Cap’n never told us how many or when! He just said we had two months!”
“I believe you,” Lavinia said. “Your information has been very helpful, and now…”
“And now,” Manthalay interrupted, “you will be executed publicly for your crimes.”
Lefty’s face went pale beneath his bruises and Lugnut grinned. Lavinia’s face flushed red.
“Lord Meravanchi,” she said, standing “I gave my word to this man that his willing assistance would earn him leniency, and I always keep my word. He will be put to hard labor, helping to repair the damage he and his men caused. If he works diligently, in time he may earn his freedom and a place among our colony. We can always use skilled seamen.”
“I see,” Manthalay said icily. “You are, of course, correct. We should reward all those who threaten us with citizenship. Perhaps when the Kraken Society fleet arrives, we should offer up the whole town to them!”
“Your sarcasm is neither warranted, nor helpful,” Lavinia answered coldly. “We have urgent matters to discuss here. It would seem that time is not on our side. Now,” she turned back to the council members, all of whom had watched the exchange between her and Lord Meravanchi with great interest, “we must prioritize our areas of greatest need so that we may know how best to proceed in preparing our defense.”
The discussion went on for several hours. In the end, it became obvious that there were five very broad goals that needed to be achieved over the next eight weeks, assuming they truly had that long. First, there were many places that the town itself could be improved and fortified, including the chapel, the harbor, the infirmary, the militia, the palisade and the watchtowers. Second, Farshore’s militia wasn’t nearly large enough to defend against a large-scale attack, a fact made painfully obvious by the day’s events. Without help from the Maztican islanders who dwelt in the nearby Seven Villages, things looked grim indeed. Third, there were other, stranger tribes of humanoids dwelling in the islands interior, tribes whose aid would doubtless further shore up the town. The phanatons were one such tribe. Local legends also told of a race of catlike humanoids called rakastas. The locals believed that the last of them had died out years ago, but they were renowned for there skill in weapon crafting, and it was possible that hidden caches of such weaponry still existed at the sites of their old temples. Fourth, many supplies were damaged in the attack, supplies that could be replaced by the cargo still carried by the Sea Wyvern. For that matter, if the Sea Wyvern herself could be repaired, she could give Farshore a huge advantage in defending against seagoing pirates. Last, the island itself had many resources that could prove beneficial. A large tar pit, located deep in the jungle, could supply the colony with tar to shore up defenses and repair damaged ships and buildings, but only if access to the pits could be gained.
The meeting adjourned on this note. The council would spread the word, and decide how best to go about accomplishing their goals. As the crowd exited the building, Lavinia called for the Legionnaires to remain.
“You may not have noticed,” she said, “but Lord Meravanchi does not care much for my presence here. I think it has disrupted his plans. His expansionist agenda can only serve to fuel hostility towards us among the natives. I feel in my heart that we must continue on our course of becoming a well-defended trading post, existing in peace with the Mazticans. Only then can my parents’ dream be realized. I am asking for your help in the coming days and weeks to be my eyes and ears among the townsfolk. You have already made a reputation for yourselves, and will be highly regarded among the people. I fear that Lord Meravanchi will call for an election soon, putting the question of Farshore’s future leadership to a vote. I will need all the help I can get.
“We are your humble servants, my Lady,” Sepoto said, bowing his head. Samson and Marius nodded, as did Daelric. Only Mandi showed no sign of assent or dissent.
_______________________________________________________
Over the next two weeks, the Legion members, those who were not already locals, established themselves as part of the community, pitching in right alongside the townspeople to help prepare for the coming war.
Mandi returned to Aldwattle’s laboratory, assisting him in putting it right again, and teaching the old alchemist some time-saving techniques which would greatly improve his productivity for the colony. The elf wizard was also able to direct Urol Forol to Telda Syren at the town greenhouse, and the gnome’s added insight vastly increased her collection of exotic spices, herbs and other plants.
Daelric also returned to familiar environments, convincing Sepoto to come with him to the chapel. The building was the primary religious center for the settlement, and various faiths shared one roof there. The main worship room was non-denominational, and numerous small shrines filled alcoves along the walls. The most popular among these were those devoted to Mielikki, Lathander, and Shaundekal. Vesserin Catherly was the resident priest, but he had only four acolytes to assist him. With the arrival of the Blue Nixie, however, he had gained a much more powerful follower in the personage of Bombur, the Jade Raven priest of Moradin. With the added assistance of Daelric and Sepoto, the spiritual well-being of the colony was markedly improved. In fact, Sepoto became quite a draw for the chapel’s weekly services, his fiery sermons from the pulpit admonishing the citizens to step up and do their duty. He presented militia detail as a sacred obligation, for freedom always came with a price. Furthermore, he spoke of reaching out and bringing spiritual guidance to the Mazticans, subtly espousing Lavinia’s political goals. It was during these days that Vesserin mentioned to his new recruits that something had been weighing on his conscience for over a year. A missionary of Lathander named Noltus Inersol, who came to Farshore independent of the other colonists, sought to spread the teachings of his faith up and down the Maztican peninsula. He spent several days preparing for this mission in Farshore. He had not been seen nor heard from since, and Vesserin hoped that he still lived. The priest asked his new allies to keep an eye out for signs of the missing missionary should any of their missions take them into the island’s interior.
The Legionnaires enjoined thr members of the Jade Ravens to assist the town efforts in other ways as well. Bombur managed to teach Telda Syren some new advances in battlefield triage, so that when the time came, the infirmary would operate at peak efficiency. In addition, it came to Sepoto’s attention that a small but tenacious tribe of troglodytes that dwelt near the center of Temute Island, had long been problematic for the colonists. The tribe lived in a sizeable cave overlooking a forest of banana trees that were ideal for lumber, but the colonists could not enter the area for fear of being attacked. Worse, over recent months, these attacks had crept increasingly closer to the colony’s boundaries. Sepoto ordered the Jade Ravens to ferret out the trogs, a task which Lugnut took to enthusiastically. When they returned several days later, the ogre trailed a rope behind him to which had been tied almost two dozen troglodyte heads. He called it his conga line, after a traditional ogre dance, and would cavort around the town square with it in a grisly parody of the ritual.
Work was started on the building of two new watchtowers to guard the town’s approaches from the east and south. The entire town was a flurry of activity, and the Legion was in the thick of it. During all of this, Lavinia was also among the people, echoing Sepoto’s words, entreating the folk to step up and not depend on others to do for them. They had to help themselves if they were to have any hope of continuing to exist. She was a natural leader, as anyone could see, and yet Lord Meravanchi was not idle. His own campaign contradicted Lavinia’s, extolling the virtues of Manifest Destiny. If the Mazticans were made to join them, they would have the beginnings of a nation, not just a colony. He also used the example of Lefty the pirate as a means of foretelling just what sort of society Lavinia would create for Farshore…one were criminals were allowed to go free, and decent folk could not feel safe in their own homes. His words were extreme, but nonetheless, there were those who listened.
_______________________________________________________________
After two weeks, Lavinia appealed to the Legion members to make the journey to Tanaroa. The natives of the largest of the Seven Villages had been particularly hesitant about supplying aid to the colonists, and since the other six villages looked to the Tanaroans for leadership, they too had been reluctant in their assistance. If Tanaroa could be convinced to throw in its lot with Farshore, however, the other Mazticans would follow suit.
The trip to Tanaroa took four days, both by canoe and by foot. As the company neared the village, they could hear a pulsating rhythm being pounded out on hollow logs. It seemed as if some sort of ritual were taking place. When they entered the village itself, they saw that the entire population was gathered around a huge, flaming pyre erected at the base of the village’s central pyramid. Dozens of warriors wearing large masks depicting a monstrous bat, danced to the frenzied beat, while the other natives chanted the same word over and over, “Zotzilaha.”
“The Maztican god of bats and things that fly in the night,” Mandi explained quietly. “He also holds influence over the Underworld, and is associated with diseases and plagues.”
“Sounds charming,” Marius smirked.
In the center of the pyre was a charred bat totem, and as the companions drew nearer, the effigy flashed with a sudden blast of brilliance. A cascade of sparks and flame from the bonfire elicited startled screams from the villagers. A shape became momentarily visible in the fire as the effigy itself came to life. A lean, humanoid figure covered in short, black fur rose from the flames, its head that of a snarling bat with glowing red eyes. Large membranous wings from its back beat against the flames like a bellows, sending hot cinders swirling. The creature shrieked out a short phrase in Maztican. Mandi translated, though strangely, Sepoto found that he needed no such assistance. He understood the creature clearly.
“Zotzilaha hears your sniveling prayers! You would appease the Great Bat? Then return what has been stolen or burn!”
The creature then burst into flames, sending a flight of bats with wings of fire spiraling into the air above the totem. At the same moment, a tremor rumbled through the ground, and in the distance to the northwest, two great volcanoes flashed with fresh plumes of fire and smoke. The villagers began to panic, and scattered in all directions, the fire bats pursuing them. All the while, Sepoto instinctively knew that the strange idol they had recovered in Tamoachan, and which he still carried, was the item of which the bat god spoke.
The fire bats continued chasing the panicked natives until a lance of pure sound from Mandi dropped one of them in midair. At that point, the entire flocked turned on the Legion as one. The battle was brief, but furious. Each time one of the diminutive little demons struck, it would attach itself to its victim and begin burning the flesh around it. Worse still, the wounds inflicted upon the bats healed almost instantly, and as soon as one dropped to the ground, another would revive and resume the assault. It was Marius who eventually stumbled upon the solution, conjuring a storm of ice and sleet around the beasts. The cold seemed to sear them as flame would another creature, and the damage inflicted by the barrage did not regenerate. Soon the air was clear once more, and the villagers began to drift back towards the pyramid.
It was at this point that Sepoto took the bat idol from his pack.
“Remember this?” he asked Marius and Samson.
“Oh no,” the Seeker moaned. “Don’t tell me that’s what this is all about.”
“What exactly is that?” Mandi asked, but before Sepoto had a chance to respond, the villagers spotted the idol, and a furor erupted around the Legionnaires. A moment later, a wizened woman pushed her way through the crowd and stood defiantly before the adventurers, her eyes as hard as steel.
“You are thieves and defilers!” she shouted in Common. “It is you who have caused the Fangs of Zotzilaha to shake, and have brought the wrath of the Bat Lord down upon us!”
“You misunderstand,” Mandi said, raising her hands in supplication. “Explain it to her Sepoto, and it had better be good.”
“We did not steal the idol,” the crusader began. “We found it within ancient ruins on the mainland. We had no idea what it was.”
“Liars!” the woman shrieked. “I, J’kal, chieftain of Tanaroa accuse you of deceit and desecration! You must return the idol to Zotzilaha’s shrine within Nextepeua, He Who Rains Ashes, in order to appease the god! If you do not do this, the wrath of my entire village will fall upon you!”
“Now see here,” Mandi said, her ire rising at the gall of the savages, “my friend just told you that we have never been to that volcano. The idol was found thousands of miles from here. We would be happy to return it, but I advise to be cautious in the threats that you make. You saw how we dealt with the bat demons while your warriors fled. We do not take warnings kindly.”
“Then how about a promise?” J’kal snapped, her voice venom. “If you do not return the idol this very day, I shall rouse all of the Seven Villages, and we shall march an entire army upon your colony at Farshore!”
“So much for diplomacy,” Marius sighed.
Hammerhead
Explorer
Wipe them out. All of them.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Bad time for show and tell. But consider, if you take them all out you might have an easier time convincing the other six tribes. ![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Beautiful update, JollyDoc. Again, you have captured the mood of the story perfectly. It's going to be interesting what will happen with Anwar's two girlfriends. His death might even lead to a slightly darker Lavinia than the one in the module...which would be cool.
Beautiful update, JollyDoc. Again, you have captured the mood of the story perfectly. It's going to be interesting what will happen with Anwar's two girlfriends. His death might even lead to a slightly darker Lavinia than the one in the module...which would be cool.
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carborundum
Adventurer
Great update, JD!
I've started running the STAP now, and the first parts are a great source of Realms-based inspiration now
I've started running the STAP now, and the first parts are a great source of Realms-based inspiration now
