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Aphonion: Journals of a Licensed Diabolist (Sat. and Wed. updates, last 9/3, 9/10)
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<blockquote data-quote="Cerebral Paladin" data-source="post: 4359301" data-attributes="member: 3448"><p>A long post to make up for the delay:</p><p></p><p>Session 10:</p><p></p><p>17 Vaen</p><p></p><p>We proceeded directly onwards to the tower of Circle Treehaven. The ground rose slightly as we approached from the northeast. After we crested the small rise, we could see the Tower along with various walls, buildings, and other supporting structures. Immediately around the Tower, a substantial amount of greenery still grew, consisting entirely of the familiar bushes with small red berries that seem most resistant to Shadow and last the longest.</p><p></p><p>All of that was as we expected, but we also saw a substantial encampment of perhaps 50 small tents surrounding a pavilion in a cleared area near the tower. The encampment looked recent—I estimated that it had been established within the past two days or so. Several banners waved over the various tents, all showing variants of a wyvern as heraldry. The wyvern banners almost certainly indicated that this was Sergeantanis’s force, and a personal banner next to the pavilion suggested that Sergeantanis was there in person.</p><p></p><p>Our force was too large to hide, and we had been approaching too directly. Shortly after cresting the ridge, we saw some activity in the encampment, and an armored figure rode out on a skeletal horse. The figure had a knightly bearing and looked as much like a true member of an organized military as any one we had seen in shadow. He drew up his horse in front of us and looked us over.</p><p></p><p>Twang stepped forward. “I am the mighty Lord Twang and these are my companions.”</p><p></p><p>While Twang’s title was entirely fictitious, presenting a bluff of being a powerful Shadow force seemed most likely to displace Sergeantanis without a fight we could easily lose. I glowered at the knight. “Lord Twang does not appreciate those who intrude in his lands without permission.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait here. I will summon my lord to speak with you directly.”</p><p></p><p>A large scaly humanoid emerged from the main pavilion and mounted a nightmare. The nightmare’s back sagged under the enormous weight, but it resolutely cantered forward.</p><p></p><p>The huge warrior held up his hand. “Hail Lord Twang, Butcher of the Weak. You have destroyed the Devourer of Souls?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” said Twang. We were not certain who the Devourer of Souls was, but denying responsibility would have been a mistake.</p><p></p><p>“And the sorcerer as well?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes.” Twang pulled his lips back to show a feral grin.</p><p></p><p>“Well then. Do you intend to hold both the dragonhold and the manor?”</p><p></p><p>“I intend to hold the manor. I have not decided on the dragonhold yet.”</p><p></p><p>Sergeantanis, as we presumed the rider to be, nodded. “Let us have wine and discuss these things.”</p><p></p><p>We brought out wine and food, and he dismounted to the visible relief of his nightmare. I detected magic to evaluate his power, and concluded that at least his equipment was mighty. The armor was not dwarven work—in fact, it reminded me the most of Lord Varlin’s armor—but I would estimate that it was the equivalent of dwarven heavy fortification plate. Sergeantanis’s principal weapon, a dangerous looking, three-headed horseman’s mace, radiated very powerful magic, perhaps even more so than the armor. He may have also had some minor items, but I think they were lost in comparison to the greater auras.</p><p></p><p>“Now, Twang the Butcher, you have done a great work in strengthening our forces outside the border. I salute you. But I suggest we move forward together. The manor is of no interest to me, the hidden vault beneath it is of no interest to me—besides, no sorcerer who has tried to reach it has survived. The dragonholds, however, are a different matter.</p><p></p><p>“Another dragonhold still stands, ruled by a sycophantic dragon. It would be too powerful for you to take and hold, I think. But I will take Dragonhold Greatclaw; if you agree to ally with me, you may keep the manor, and we will split Ripgut.”</p><p></p><p>“What of this area?” asked Twang.</p><p></p><p>“You want it?” Sergeantanis asked in surprise. “I thought to take the beast’s essence for my own, but otherwise it is of little interest.”</p><p></p><p>I spoke up to avoid raising suspicions. “Lord Twang has interest in the laboratory for his mystical studies.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah. I would not object to you taking that, as it has no worth to me. But can I take the essence of the beast, for my father’s purposes?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, that would be acceptable.” Twang pushed forward. “Who would be in command at Dragonhold Ripgut?”</p><p></p><p>“Are any alive who once served Ripgut?”</p><p></p><p>“They now serve me.”</p><p></p><p>“Exactly. Let one of them command.”</p><p></p><p>Twang smiled. “Are we then agreed?”</p><p></p><p>“Upon the blood that I carry, we are agreed.”</p><p></p><p>“I swear on the living blood of my grandmother,” responded Twang.</p><p></p><p>He nodded. “Strong she is, if she yet lives.” They each cut their hands, allowing the blood to mingle as it dripped upon the ground. The directness of this deal with a creature of the Abyss concerned me, but I took no action as it seemed necessary to serve the greater purposes of the Darkness. I hope that my conduct will be judged acceptable when I can again submit to examination. I stand ready to serve any penance the Church orders.</p><p></p><p>Sergeantanis vaulted into his nightmare’s saddle, nearly breaking its back in the process, and rode hard back to his camp.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Cerebral Paladin, post: 4359301, member: 3448"] A long post to make up for the delay: Session 10: 17 Vaen We proceeded directly onwards to the tower of Circle Treehaven. The ground rose slightly as we approached from the northeast. After we crested the small rise, we could see the Tower along with various walls, buildings, and other supporting structures. Immediately around the Tower, a substantial amount of greenery still grew, consisting entirely of the familiar bushes with small red berries that seem most resistant to Shadow and last the longest. All of that was as we expected, but we also saw a substantial encampment of perhaps 50 small tents surrounding a pavilion in a cleared area near the tower. The encampment looked recent—I estimated that it had been established within the past two days or so. Several banners waved over the various tents, all showing variants of a wyvern as heraldry. The wyvern banners almost certainly indicated that this was Sergeantanis’s force, and a personal banner next to the pavilion suggested that Sergeantanis was there in person. Our force was too large to hide, and we had been approaching too directly. Shortly after cresting the ridge, we saw some activity in the encampment, and an armored figure rode out on a skeletal horse. The figure had a knightly bearing and looked as much like a true member of an organized military as any one we had seen in shadow. He drew up his horse in front of us and looked us over. Twang stepped forward. “I am the mighty Lord Twang and these are my companions.” While Twang’s title was entirely fictitious, presenting a bluff of being a powerful Shadow force seemed most likely to displace Sergeantanis without a fight we could easily lose. I glowered at the knight. “Lord Twang does not appreciate those who intrude in his lands without permission.” “Wait here. I will summon my lord to speak with you directly.” A large scaly humanoid emerged from the main pavilion and mounted a nightmare. The nightmare’s back sagged under the enormous weight, but it resolutely cantered forward. The huge warrior held up his hand. “Hail Lord Twang, Butcher of the Weak. You have destroyed the Devourer of Souls?” “Yes,” said Twang. We were not certain who the Devourer of Souls was, but denying responsibility would have been a mistake. “And the sorcerer as well?” “Yes.” Twang pulled his lips back to show a feral grin. “Well then. Do you intend to hold both the dragonhold and the manor?” “I intend to hold the manor. I have not decided on the dragonhold yet.” Sergeantanis, as we presumed the rider to be, nodded. “Let us have wine and discuss these things.” We brought out wine and food, and he dismounted to the visible relief of his nightmare. I detected magic to evaluate his power, and concluded that at least his equipment was mighty. The armor was not dwarven work—in fact, it reminded me the most of Lord Varlin’s armor—but I would estimate that it was the equivalent of dwarven heavy fortification plate. Sergeantanis’s principal weapon, a dangerous looking, three-headed horseman’s mace, radiated very powerful magic, perhaps even more so than the armor. He may have also had some minor items, but I think they were lost in comparison to the greater auras. “Now, Twang the Butcher, you have done a great work in strengthening our forces outside the border. I salute you. But I suggest we move forward together. The manor is of no interest to me, the hidden vault beneath it is of no interest to me—besides, no sorcerer who has tried to reach it has survived. The dragonholds, however, are a different matter. “Another dragonhold still stands, ruled by a sycophantic dragon. It would be too powerful for you to take and hold, I think. But I will take Dragonhold Greatclaw; if you agree to ally with me, you may keep the manor, and we will split Ripgut.” “What of this area?” asked Twang. “You want it?” Sergeantanis asked in surprise. “I thought to take the beast’s essence for my own, but otherwise it is of little interest.” I spoke up to avoid raising suspicions. “Lord Twang has interest in the laboratory for his mystical studies.” “Ah. I would not object to you taking that, as it has no worth to me. But can I take the essence of the beast, for my father’s purposes?” “Yes, that would be acceptable.” Twang pushed forward. “Who would be in command at Dragonhold Ripgut?” “Are any alive who once served Ripgut?” “They now serve me.” “Exactly. Let one of them command.” Twang smiled. “Are we then agreed?” “Upon the blood that I carry, we are agreed.” “I swear on the living blood of my grandmother,” responded Twang. He nodded. “Strong she is, if she yet lives.” They each cut their hands, allowing the blood to mingle as it dripped upon the ground. The directness of this deal with a creature of the Abyss concerned me, but I took no action as it seemed necessary to serve the greater purposes of the Darkness. I hope that my conduct will be judged acceptable when I can again submit to examination. I stand ready to serve any penance the Church orders. Sergeantanis vaulted into his nightmare’s saddle, nearly breaking its back in the process, and rode hard back to his camp. [/QUOTE]
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