Mahiro Satsu
First Post
Episode XIII Into the Woods part 2
From the Journal of Aoth Sepret
Later...
We reached the site a few moments later, but did not see any other dwellings. Mindful of traps I searched around the structure but found nothing. Kaemris cast a spell of detect magic and studied the structure. It glowed with a moderate illusion spell. I warned him not to go near, but the northerner did not listen. He walked up to the structure and knocked on the wooden doorframe. The hovel disappeared and was replaced by two trees with a sharpened log suspended between them. I witnessed the log fly down from the trees in profile, and when it hit Kaemris I believed we would be voting on a new leader soon. The log was over a foot and a half thick, with a vicious point at the end. It impaled Kaemris through the side and knocked him off his feet.
“Never do that,” he said to no one in particular as he stood up.
His clothes were a bloody mess. I know that if I had been in his place they would have buried me in a shallow grave. That priest is made of strong stuff. All he did was mutter about “the hazards of the road” and call on his goddess for a boon of healing. Van took his cue and called upon Selune to heal himself from the earlier battle. I spent the rest of the day cursing myself for not being more vigilant. Even though we all had our suspicions, Artemus announced that this was the work of wild elves. Time came to move on and we walked to red horse hill.
I smelled the Hill before we reached it. It was a bog smell--death decay, stagnation, and unholiness. Soon the trees parted and we could see the stench. There was a small pond on one side of the hill. Its red clay banks led into the pond turning the water a brackish red color, the color of blood. It reminded me of the sands around Uthalass after our invasion. No insects buzzed around the pound, but that was not surprising. The entire area was dead. The hill itself was almost unremarkable next to the death pond. Short grass, burnt brown by the sun, covered the hill except for the red clay mound formed into the shape of a horse. Maybe the people who built the mound used clay from the pond. Maybe there was not a pond before they built the mound. That would explain the lack of life.
As we neared the pond a solemn figure rose from its waters, the Horseman atop the devil steed. He starred at us for a moment, and when we did not move, turned his horse and moved to a spot about thirty feet from his initial position. With a salute he descended into the waters, vanishing. Someone, truthfully I do not know who for I was transfixed by the spectacle before me, said that he had given the sign of a god named Torm. Later I learned that it was the Northern god of Paladins. Suspecting that this was his final resting place, we devised a plan to inspect the lake.
Artemus, we believed, was the strongest swimmer. I know I could not swim; I come from a dry place. So we tied my silk rope about his waist and told him to tug twice, sharply, if he had any trouble. He waded out into the lake, holding a crystal enchanted with one of Keamris’s light spells between his teeth. After ten feet the water was only up to his ankles, and ten feet later only to mid calf. By the time he arrived where the horseman had disappeared, the water rose only to his knees. He searched the area for a few moments and found nothing. I waded out to him, keeping my hand on the rope for fear of hidden holes or an undercurrent. When I reached Artemus, I could see why he was having trouble. The chalky blood colored water was opaque after only an inch or so. Thoth must have been with me, for after a few moments I uncovered the secret of the pond. From the water we pulled a skeleton, some rusted armor, and other adventuring supplies from the lake.
On the shore we assembled the bones and had one nearly complete human skeleton and one of a large horse. Curiously, the human's head was missing. After a brief discussion of what to do next, and how to appease all three gods that our priests served, it was decided to give the noble man a decent resting place. We dressed him in his armor, gave him his sword and buried him beneath a tree. The tree was Aretmus’s idea, and it was next to the path in deference to Kaemris. From one of the low hanging branches we hung his holy symbol, where the first rays of the rising moon could illuminate it. I respect Van for that touch. It will be a stirring memorial. It was a solemn funeral, and long overdue. Kaemris said some prayers, as did Artemus and Van. Lenet and I watched quietly, respecting the priests as they worked, though I must admit I had to fight an impulse to take notes.
We have camped this night a few yards from the tree. The moon is indeed beautiful. I have taken second watch, as usual. Soon Artemus will relieve me. I hope he comes soon, for my Darkvision spell is about to expi…
From the Journal of Aoth Sepret
Later...
We reached the site a few moments later, but did not see any other dwellings. Mindful of traps I searched around the structure but found nothing. Kaemris cast a spell of detect magic and studied the structure. It glowed with a moderate illusion spell. I warned him not to go near, but the northerner did not listen. He walked up to the structure and knocked on the wooden doorframe. The hovel disappeared and was replaced by two trees with a sharpened log suspended between them. I witnessed the log fly down from the trees in profile, and when it hit Kaemris I believed we would be voting on a new leader soon. The log was over a foot and a half thick, with a vicious point at the end. It impaled Kaemris through the side and knocked him off his feet.
“Never do that,” he said to no one in particular as he stood up.
His clothes were a bloody mess. I know that if I had been in his place they would have buried me in a shallow grave. That priest is made of strong stuff. All he did was mutter about “the hazards of the road” and call on his goddess for a boon of healing. Van took his cue and called upon Selune to heal himself from the earlier battle. I spent the rest of the day cursing myself for not being more vigilant. Even though we all had our suspicions, Artemus announced that this was the work of wild elves. Time came to move on and we walked to red horse hill.
I smelled the Hill before we reached it. It was a bog smell--death decay, stagnation, and unholiness. Soon the trees parted and we could see the stench. There was a small pond on one side of the hill. Its red clay banks led into the pond turning the water a brackish red color, the color of blood. It reminded me of the sands around Uthalass after our invasion. No insects buzzed around the pound, but that was not surprising. The entire area was dead. The hill itself was almost unremarkable next to the death pond. Short grass, burnt brown by the sun, covered the hill except for the red clay mound formed into the shape of a horse. Maybe the people who built the mound used clay from the pond. Maybe there was not a pond before they built the mound. That would explain the lack of life.
As we neared the pond a solemn figure rose from its waters, the Horseman atop the devil steed. He starred at us for a moment, and when we did not move, turned his horse and moved to a spot about thirty feet from his initial position. With a salute he descended into the waters, vanishing. Someone, truthfully I do not know who for I was transfixed by the spectacle before me, said that he had given the sign of a god named Torm. Later I learned that it was the Northern god of Paladins. Suspecting that this was his final resting place, we devised a plan to inspect the lake.
Artemus, we believed, was the strongest swimmer. I know I could not swim; I come from a dry place. So we tied my silk rope about his waist and told him to tug twice, sharply, if he had any trouble. He waded out into the lake, holding a crystal enchanted with one of Keamris’s light spells between his teeth. After ten feet the water was only up to his ankles, and ten feet later only to mid calf. By the time he arrived where the horseman had disappeared, the water rose only to his knees. He searched the area for a few moments and found nothing. I waded out to him, keeping my hand on the rope for fear of hidden holes or an undercurrent. When I reached Artemus, I could see why he was having trouble. The chalky blood colored water was opaque after only an inch or so. Thoth must have been with me, for after a few moments I uncovered the secret of the pond. From the water we pulled a skeleton, some rusted armor, and other adventuring supplies from the lake.
On the shore we assembled the bones and had one nearly complete human skeleton and one of a large horse. Curiously, the human's head was missing. After a brief discussion of what to do next, and how to appease all three gods that our priests served, it was decided to give the noble man a decent resting place. We dressed him in his armor, gave him his sword and buried him beneath a tree. The tree was Aretmus’s idea, and it was next to the path in deference to Kaemris. From one of the low hanging branches we hung his holy symbol, where the first rays of the rising moon could illuminate it. I respect Van for that touch. It will be a stirring memorial. It was a solemn funeral, and long overdue. Kaemris said some prayers, as did Artemus and Van. Lenet and I watched quietly, respecting the priests as they worked, though I must admit I had to fight an impulse to take notes.
We have camped this night a few yards from the tree. The moon is indeed beautiful. I have taken second watch, as usual. Soon Artemus will relieve me. I hope he comes soon, for my Darkvision spell is about to expi…