Avonshar: The Horror is in the Knowing. Updated 8/8/03
- Thread starter Argent Silvermage
- Start date
WizarDru
Adventurer
This will be the first of several updates to follow. I have decided to change the style to a more standard story-hour. Let me know what you think.
I am currently two sessions behind on Avonshar, and we covered a lot of ground. Expect more updates throughout the week. It's my goal to get us completely caught up within the week.
Enjoy.
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The Journal of Strider Rannos, Book II
"Mothers in Darkness"
Part the First: LUNATICS
Prelude:
Alset ran as fast as he could down the darkened alleyway. He didn't know what they were, but he knew that they shouldn't be. The way they moved....nothing moved like that. Nothing should. In the tiny part of his mind that remained rational, a voice tried to warn him that he was panicking. It didn't matter. He just had to run, and keep running.
Where was everyone? The merchant dashed left up another alleyway, then jumped some boxes, continuing on. His rational mind was chastising him, now. He was consumed with self-reproach. Of course the streets were empty...why wouldn't they be? All the smart ones had left during the exodus. The city was a veritable ghost-town. He had stayed, thinking this would be the opportunity to make his fortune. As he heard the shambling from behind, he knew what a foolish thought that had been. Faster.
He ran into an abandoned building, sealing the door behind him and barring it. Still he ran. Up the broken stairs. Look for a window. Be quiet. Wait. Wait. He listened the wet-slaps from the alley below. Had they heard him? Would they force their way in? The heavy, wet footsteps paused, as if his pursuers were confused. Then, just as suddenly, they moved off quickly. Had they given up?
The sound confused him. It sounded a wet 'shlurrrrp', as if someone had thrown something wet on the floor.
It was behind him. Numbly, he turned around, as a voice said to him:
"Oh, no.
Can't have that.
We need you.
WE NEED YOUR NICE, SOLID FLESH." Alset looked in the direction of the voice, but saw no one.
Then he looked down.
Had anyone been near to hear, they would have heard Alset's scream suddenly muffled by something wet and slimy being shoved in his throat.
And then they wouldn't have heard anything at all.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter I: The Eye in the Moon
Rannos stared down at his sketches. He had spent no small amount of time refining his skill so that he could record images just such as these, to enhance the knowledge of the library. He had long hoped that his journal work would become important tomes of the library of Bashad, documenting the wilderness of Avonshar.
He had not expected to actually find himself living there, but stranger things had happened since the Expedition of the Eye. He had travelled widely since then, going off-plane for weeks at a time. He was engaged to speak to travellers across the Great Wheel, surely the longest of all roads.
After the second journey, he had found his things moved to the Great Library of Bashad itself, and that it had become a defacto center of government for the city. After the Exodus, as it was now called, many scarcely considered Bashad anything other than a shadow of it's former self...barely a city at all, in fact.
Thousands had left...and not just from the city. The outlying towns that had not been destroyed were emptied in a matter of days. And who could blame them? The Black Ral'Shar had slaughtered dozens, defeated patrols of the Traveller...and then disappeared.
There were now only four settlements that remained, and those were all within a matter of miles of the city proper. In those first weeks after the attack, panic was widespread. People left without telling anyone in the mad rush to escape. This only fueled the fire, as it was readily assumed that someone had been taken and killed, rather than just left without warning. Hundreds of years of colonization lost in a matter of weeks.
Rannos sighed mournfully at the thought of it.
His fault.
His.
None had said it, of course. Not his friends, not the temple, not the council. But he knew it, all the same. Hundreds (thousands?) dead, and the blood was on his hands.
And how had the church reacted? They promoted him to the rank of Strider. Why? If they thought it would keep him quiet, they had miscalculated. Had it been a genuine mark of respect? He didn't know, and was becoming too cynical lately to think clearly on the matter.
But where were the follow-up attacks? Why had the slaughter stopped? It perplexed them all. After the initial attacks, the black Ral'Shar had disappeared. Anywhere else, and the elders would have sought the knowledge of Fharlangann to seek the truth. But divinations failed within the city limits of Bashad, and
within a 50-mile radius of the city. And no one could survive that far from civilization, not now. Not knowing where the aliens were was, in many ways, far worse.
But panic could not last forever. When uneventful week followed uneventful week, the Exodus stopped, and like the tide rolling in, some returned. Newcomers came, too....but usually the desperate and the degnerate.
Fools, outcasts and grifters.
Then, slowly at first, people began arriving. The terror had ended, at least for now, and people saw opportunity again. Then THEY appeared. The very thought of what THEY had said about him was worse than anything he had thought.
Before Rannos could think more of this, there was a knock at the door.
"Yes?", he called.
A muffled voice stuttered some reply. Rannos couldn't make out the words, but knew the boy's voice.
"Oh, Road's End! Open the door, Eustace, for pity's sake!"
The door opened, and the lad looked as if he had been slapped. A short, sheepish lad, Eustace slid into the room. He was known as a coward, according to Culain, and they hoped that Rannos would give him some backbone. The opposite appeared to be happening. The boy merely stood mutely by, looking anxious.
Rannos cleared his throat, waiting.
"Er..well, that is...yes, Strider. Strider Culain wants...um, he wishes that you would...ehr, that is.."
"Cuhlain wishes to see me, is that it?"
"Strider, yes...that is basically what he asked, yes. Yes. And your...ehr, the...those people who...ehh.."
"My travelling companions, yes? Very well, lad. No tea, then. I have a feeling that I'll not have time, today."
"Yes, strider." The boy bowed low. He was dutiful, but easily spooked. Rannos hadn't bothered to tell him about the various events he'd seen in recent months. No need in curling the boys hair any more than he had to.
"Go to the smithy section, and find Alden, lad. Tell him and Delwyn, remember him?, to meet me at Culain's apartment. I need to head to the Seventh League.
"The..THE Tavern, strider? But Strider Culain asked for you right away, master."
Rannos frowned, slightly.
"I am aware of that, acolyte.. Several of my companions will be found there.".
The boy looked smaller than before, if possible. He stuttered an apology.
"Forget it, lad. There are some in our order who do just that. Sometimes with just cause. Merely watch that you understand the whys and whens of such."
"Yes, Strider."
"And send a runner...a female one...to the monastery where Tazendra is meditating."
The boy looked ready to ask why it must be a female acolyte, but he knew the answer as well as Rannos. Men were not welcome within the monastary's walls. The very idea was very alluring to a young boy such as Eustace, who no doubt had his own ideas of what might go on in those staid halls. He would be quite disappointed, Rannos knew, but there was little reason to correct the boy, regardless. Smiling, he waved and dismissed the boy.
Five minutes later, Casparo was doing the same thing to him.
I am currently two sessions behind on Avonshar, and we covered a lot of ground. Expect more updates throughout the week. It's my goal to get us completely caught up within the week.
Enjoy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Journal of Strider Rannos, Book II
"Mothers in Darkness"
Part the First: LUNATICS
Prelude:
Alset ran as fast as he could down the darkened alleyway. He didn't know what they were, but he knew that they shouldn't be. The way they moved....nothing moved like that. Nothing should. In the tiny part of his mind that remained rational, a voice tried to warn him that he was panicking. It didn't matter. He just had to run, and keep running.
Where was everyone? The merchant dashed left up another alleyway, then jumped some boxes, continuing on. His rational mind was chastising him, now. He was consumed with self-reproach. Of course the streets were empty...why wouldn't they be? All the smart ones had left during the exodus. The city was a veritable ghost-town. He had stayed, thinking this would be the opportunity to make his fortune. As he heard the shambling from behind, he knew what a foolish thought that had been. Faster.
He ran into an abandoned building, sealing the door behind him and barring it. Still he ran. Up the broken stairs. Look for a window. Be quiet. Wait. Wait. He listened the wet-slaps from the alley below. Had they heard him? Would they force their way in? The heavy, wet footsteps paused, as if his pursuers were confused. Then, just as suddenly, they moved off quickly. Had they given up?
The sound confused him. It sounded a wet 'shlurrrrp', as if someone had thrown something wet on the floor.
It was behind him. Numbly, he turned around, as a voice said to him:
"Oh, no.
Can't have that.
We need you.
WE NEED YOUR NICE, SOLID FLESH." Alset looked in the direction of the voice, but saw no one.
Then he looked down.
Had anyone been near to hear, they would have heard Alset's scream suddenly muffled by something wet and slimy being shoved in his throat.
And then they wouldn't have heard anything at all.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter I: The Eye in the Moon
Rannos stared down at his sketches. He had spent no small amount of time refining his skill so that he could record images just such as these, to enhance the knowledge of the library. He had long hoped that his journal work would become important tomes of the library of Bashad, documenting the wilderness of Avonshar.
He had not expected to actually find himself living there, but stranger things had happened since the Expedition of the Eye. He had travelled widely since then, going off-plane for weeks at a time. He was engaged to speak to travellers across the Great Wheel, surely the longest of all roads.
After the second journey, he had found his things moved to the Great Library of Bashad itself, and that it had become a defacto center of government for the city. After the Exodus, as it was now called, many scarcely considered Bashad anything other than a shadow of it's former self...barely a city at all, in fact.
Thousands had left...and not just from the city. The outlying towns that had not been destroyed were emptied in a matter of days. And who could blame them? The Black Ral'Shar had slaughtered dozens, defeated patrols of the Traveller...and then disappeared.
There were now only four settlements that remained, and those were all within a matter of miles of the city proper. In those first weeks after the attack, panic was widespread. People left without telling anyone in the mad rush to escape. This only fueled the fire, as it was readily assumed that someone had been taken and killed, rather than just left without warning. Hundreds of years of colonization lost in a matter of weeks.
Rannos sighed mournfully at the thought of it.
His fault.
His.
None had said it, of course. Not his friends, not the temple, not the council. But he knew it, all the same. Hundreds (thousands?) dead, and the blood was on his hands.
And how had the church reacted? They promoted him to the rank of Strider. Why? If they thought it would keep him quiet, they had miscalculated. Had it been a genuine mark of respect? He didn't know, and was becoming too cynical lately to think clearly on the matter.
But where were the follow-up attacks? Why had the slaughter stopped? It perplexed them all. After the initial attacks, the black Ral'Shar had disappeared. Anywhere else, and the elders would have sought the knowledge of Fharlangann to seek the truth. But divinations failed within the city limits of Bashad, and
within a 50-mile radius of the city. And no one could survive that far from civilization, not now. Not knowing where the aliens were was, in many ways, far worse.
But panic could not last forever. When uneventful week followed uneventful week, the Exodus stopped, and like the tide rolling in, some returned. Newcomers came, too....but usually the desperate and the degnerate.
Fools, outcasts and grifters.
Then, slowly at first, people began arriving. The terror had ended, at least for now, and people saw opportunity again. Then THEY appeared. The very thought of what THEY had said about him was worse than anything he had thought.
Before Rannos could think more of this, there was a knock at the door.
"Yes?", he called.
A muffled voice stuttered some reply. Rannos couldn't make out the words, but knew the boy's voice.
"Oh, Road's End! Open the door, Eustace, for pity's sake!"
The door opened, and the lad looked as if he had been slapped. A short, sheepish lad, Eustace slid into the room. He was known as a coward, according to Culain, and they hoped that Rannos would give him some backbone. The opposite appeared to be happening. The boy merely stood mutely by, looking anxious.
Rannos cleared his throat, waiting.
"Er..well, that is...yes, Strider. Strider Culain wants...um, he wishes that you would...ehr, that is.."
"Cuhlain wishes to see me, is that it?"
"Strider, yes...that is basically what he asked, yes. Yes. And your...ehr, the...those people who...ehh.."
"My travelling companions, yes? Very well, lad. No tea, then. I have a feeling that I'll not have time, today."
"Yes, strider." The boy bowed low. He was dutiful, but easily spooked. Rannos hadn't bothered to tell him about the various events he'd seen in recent months. No need in curling the boys hair any more than he had to.
"Go to the smithy section, and find Alden, lad. Tell him and Delwyn, remember him?, to meet me at Culain's apartment. I need to head to the Seventh League.
"The..THE Tavern, strider? But Strider Culain asked for you right away, master."
Rannos frowned, slightly.
"I am aware of that, acolyte.. Several of my companions will be found there.".
The boy looked smaller than before, if possible. He stuttered an apology.
"Forget it, lad. There are some in our order who do just that. Sometimes with just cause. Merely watch that you understand the whys and whens of such."
"Yes, Strider."
"And send a runner...a female one...to the monastery where Tazendra is meditating."
The boy looked ready to ask why it must be a female acolyte, but he knew the answer as well as Rannos. Men were not welcome within the monastary's walls. The very idea was very alluring to a young boy such as Eustace, who no doubt had his own ideas of what might go on in those staid halls. He would be quite disappointed, Rannos knew, but there was little reason to correct the boy, regardless. Smiling, he waved and dismissed the boy.
Five minutes later, Casparo was doing the same thing to him.
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Argent Silvermage
First Post
Nifft said:
Ohhh! There are levels of Ick here that Wizardru can't put in the story hour due to Eric's Grandma.
WizarDru
Adventurer
Argent said:
We'll see rabbit, we'll see.
Welcome to the next update. Expect a new one every few days, if life slows down a little.
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"Why don't you be a good servant of Fharlangann and hit the road?"
The cleric was biting his tongue. Good. Casparo didn't bother turning around to look at him. Rali had that amused look on her face. She liked Rannos more than Casparo did, but that wasn't hard. The guy was OK, but he always thought he was right. Nothing irritated him more than the self-righteous.
"It's a simple task that the church needs help with. You did say you'd still be willing to..."
"Why is it that whenever your church asks us to do something simple, it never turns out to be simple?"
That got him. Now, sip the ale slowly. Let him simmer. Casparo waited for the indignation, while he acted non-chalant. But instead of the expected outburst, he only heard a sigh.
"I suppose that's true, isn't it? Listen, Casparo...Rali...My church is asking for your help. They've been, at the least, fairly generous. I'm sure they will continue to be. There are few people left in the city with our level of skill at dealing with....complicated problems."
Well, well. That was probably the most honest the cleric had been in months. Maybe he wouldn't string him along for ten more minutes. Casparo had every intention of agreeing from the minute that Rannos had arrived...but he wasn't going to let him know that. Any more than he was going to let him know about his latest rash of "business" dealings. The priest might go apopleptic on him.
"No Orriculum swiping?", he asked indifferently.
"I made sure you got to keep the last cache we found, did I not? And the items of....the things we found?" Rannos looked around carefully, trying to make sure no one knew of what he was speaking of. Casparo found this patently ridiculous, of course. The cleric could delude himself that his church was good at keeping secrets...but the fact of the matter is that much of the details of their previous expedition was common knowledge.
Every fool on the street knew, in varying degrees of accuracy, that Rannos and his companions had released...something. Most of the idiots didn't realize that their worst fears were better than what they had actually unleashed. Rannos' name was a household word around Bashad, but it garnered different reactions depending on what kind of scum you were talking to. Casparo, for his own money, couldn't figure out how Rannos had pulled it off, though. He unleashed an ancient evil on the world, and they promoted him. As far as Casparo was concerned, that was the equivalent of his accidentally killing someone during a burglary, and then being made the captain of the town watch.
Idiots.
"You can have an ale with me, tell us where to meet you, or sit there like a statue. We'll be there, shortly."
Rannos merely nodded, gave a disapproving stare and looked at Rali. Rali, who was drinking two mugs for every cup that Casparo drank, made a face at the priest.
"Aye'll be there soon enough. A woman can' be expected to face the day with less than four mugs in her."
"How many have you had so far?"
"Five. Aye said 'Less than' not 'no more than'. One more an' I'll be along. Now either smile or hurry along...yuir souring my ale with that look."
Rannos look became even more reproachful, if possible, and he stalked off, muttering as went. Rali merely smiled sweetly as he left, signalling the barmaid with a small wave.
"Ye shouldna ride him so much, ye know. He could 'ave brought the curse up, eh?"
"Ye gods, are you people ever going to forget that?", Casparo grimaced. "How was I supposed to know the stupid ring was cursed? You'd think I'd planned it the way you lot go on about it!" The truth was, he was a little defensive about it. It seemed like a great idea, at the time. Delusions of any use the ring might have had faded pretty quickly, when he couldn't make them back off far enough to have some privacy whlie he was trying to hit the head. Lord knows he wasn't about to bed the wenches who were following him...some of them hadn't had a bath since...well, he wasn't sure they'd ever actually bathed, when it came to it.
"Heh. We would'na mention is nae so much, if ye didn't keep fussin' so much when we do. An' that still dinna answer tha question. Why do ye always give the priest such a hard time?
"ME? Give HIM a hard time? What do you think he's always doing? Thinks he's better than me, and you know it. Maybe if he stopped acting like I'm going to steal the good silverware all the time, I'd be a little nicer."
"Aye, well I'm nae sayin' he can' be a prick sometimes...jus' that ye don' have to play along, eh?"
Casparo wasn't convinced, but he nodded and mumbled a weak agreement. The dwarf could give the cleric a run for his money when it came to prosteltyzing, he'd found. She just wasn't as pushy about it. Suddenly he heard a sound of ringing chimes. Looking up, he saw the dwarf had put down her mug and risen from the table. The ringing came from her weapon, held high and viewed with concern by many of the bars other patrons. She insisted on carrying it virtually everywhere these days...when the Library guard had confronted her about it the last time, she claimed she was a bard and it was her instrument. What was more amazing was that she had actually convinced them that it was.
"Hey, if he behaves, I'll behave. How about that?" And that was true, for about as far as it went.
""If the two of ye keep at it, I'll make ye honorary dwarves fer bein' sa pig-headed and stubborn. But ye'll need to grow beards, not that sad excuse ye've got now."
Casparo smiled, and quietly wondered if there was money to be made in selling fake beards to balding dwarves.
* * * * *
"Look out the window. Now." Cuhlain had assumed his 'mentor' voice.
Rannos and Alden walked to the shuttered window in the Strider's cloistered room, and opened it. Both looked out upon the courtyard below, where throngs of people were running about in a state of near panic, from the looks of it. They had seen people discussing in huddled groups on the way over, but the state of activity had increased in the few minutes they'd spent waiting. Cuhlain had refused to discuss anything until they had all arrived.
"What's going on, Strider?", said Rannos, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Have the attacks begun again?"
Cuhlain's face made it clear that this wasn't what he wanted them to see. Rannos knew he would have come out and simply told them...unless it was important he see it, first. Rannos' eyes scanned the crowd, looking for something that would explain the elder priest's reticence. Then he felt Alden's hand on his shoulder, and the trembling in his voice.
"Up there. Look. Up. There."
Rannos looked first at Alden's face, tense and going white. He looked up, and saw it.
The Moon.
And Someone...something...
was DRAWING AN EYE UPON IT.
He looked back at Alden, questioning his own senses. Alden looked back, silently shook his head, and they both gazed upon it again. To their horror. Something was creating a graven image of an angry, evil eye on the surface of the moon, glaring down at the unfortunates below. The moon. Where SHE was. A message was being sent, and it made Rannos feel sick. Alden and he both understood planar and astrophysics, though he was more of an expert at the former and Alden the latter. They knew how large the moon was, and how far away it was.
"H...How? How is..."
"Does it really matter?, Alden sighed.
Rannos had to concede the point. One by one, the others went over to look. No one had bothered to look up at the moon, it was clear. Rannos saw his reaction mirrored four times more, and then turned back to Cuhlain. His face must have asked what was on his mind, as the Strider began speaking immediately.
"Fifteen minutes, we think. People are reacting poorly. We need to prevent a full scale panic. Dozens were killed running for the portal last time. I do NOT want a repeat of that."
"Well, surely you don't think that we can..."
"Of course not. But the panic is being fueled by some members of the Cult of the Moon at Library Square South. They've assembled and are preaching that the end times have come. The situation is explosive. It's not what I originally summoned you for, but I could use your help for this, as well. It would be on the way to the situation I need you to investigate."
Delwyn spoke up. "[color=sky blue]Are we to disperse them? What if they don't go peacably?[/color]" The psychic warrior had been working with the Library Guard for several months now, and was a capable leader. His reputation as a combatant was greater than that. The tone of his voice was controlled, and gave no indication of his take on the situation, or his preferred method of dealing with the situation.
"Nothing so extreme, I hope. If you can get them to quiet down, perhaps, or stop panicking people, that would suffice. If they prove difficult...use your judgement. At this, he stared directly at Rannos, who nodded.
"The Cult of the Moon? Who the hell are they?," asked Alden. Rannos shuddered angrily in spite of himself.
"A relatively new cult, they only appeared a few months ago. They're radicals, and believe that the attacks were caused by the moon. They believe it's evil. They intend to fight back, and have been successful in drumming up support to help them."
"Well, they have that part correct, I suppose. So exactly how are they plannning on fighting the Ral'Shar, if they're on the moon?"
"They're building a ladder."
There was silence for a moment, followed by a cough from Rali.
"[color=sky blue]How high is it?[/color]", asked Delwyn, smiling.
"No one knows. No one outside of the cult has seen it.
"That's great, really. But what I want to know", began Casparo, "is what you really wanted us to do, and is it going to lead to a payment of a less than spiritual nature? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having things inject eggs in me for the sake of the church...but everyone's got to eat...unless you're a Ral'shar, I guess." He smirked a challenge.
"Yes, you'll be compensated. The church is not naive or irresponsible, Casparo. The task is to investigate a local shop that we think is connected to the Cult of the Moon. We suspect they may be involved in this situation somehow. Many of the rumors have been spread by a woman named Chani...a former associate of yours, I believe, Casparo?" Casparo merely rolled his eyes skywards.
"Ahem. Yes, well...we believe the cult may be headquartered in the rooms above their shop. We want to you to go and request them to calm down some. Perhaps they can be convinced to restore order, instead of inciting a riot."
"What makes you think they'll listen to us?", asked Tazendra. She had been leaning against the back wall, almost in a meditative state. The strider seemed to struggle with the question for a moment, glancing at Rannos. "What?".
"They think I'm a....harbinger. A blessed figure - gifted, somehow", Rannos spit out from within gritted teeth. "I'm like a prophet, in their eyes. IDIOTS."
"Lunatics, is more like."
"Whatever they are, Casparo, they are also a growing force in Bashad. And while we don't agree with them, they are not breaking any laws...yet. We would request you go to Bob and Bob's mercantile and..."
"Bob and Bob's...the place co-owned by a halfing and an Ogre?"
"Yes, yes it is. More associates of yours?"
"No, it's just a shop I know of, all right?"
"I see. Well, please, speed is of the utmost importance. I would like you to travel to the shop and speak with their head priest, religion to religion. Ask him formally to try and calm his followers down, and help keep the peace. If he declines, there is little we can do, but we need to try."
As the group began shuffling out, listening to Casparo's directions, the strider stopped them for a moment.
"Rannos, one more thing. Please TRY not to kill anyone."
Reflecting on it later, Rannos would always think that life would have been much less complicated if they hadn't.
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