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Byzantium on the Shannon, Part the Second
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<blockquote data-quote="CleverName" data-source="post: 208597" data-attributes="member: 2591"><p><strong>Nyssa' Journal, Part 5 (Adventure 44)</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Nyssa’s Journal: Evil Unmasked</strong></p><p></p><p>11th April (Saint Felix’s Day)- After a breakfast with a subdued Eidine and Tira, Leith uses one of his tattoos to shift into the form of a mighty stag, unfortunately he did not warn us so I was not able to observe the effect fully.</p><p></p><p>Leith then leads us a few hours through the woods on game trails and back paths. When we emerge, he points out the road to the Pit, it has been well used of late with signs of widening and recent wagon traffic. W scouts ahead as we travel down the road. After about a mile, we secrete our mounts in a grove out of sight of the road and continue on foot. A little further down, W finds a guard post at a crossroads. W and Ingolf circle around to prevent them from getting help, and after a few minutes to let them get into position, we advance down the road. They halt us and demand that we turn back and Gudlaug is unable to convince them otherwise. Losing patience, Gudlaug smites them with a crashing wave of water (the same effect he had used on the Chimera I believe) that smashed them into unconsciousness. The Stephanite binds them securely with rope and leads their horses away to be hobbled with ours.</p><p></p><p>We start slowly down the road to the Pit while Gudlaug changes into an eagle and follows the other road to the Sacred Well of Brigit. Within but a short time Gudlaug returns, looking a bit shaken. He informs up that the Sacred Well has been defiled and the house of the Ollave destroyed. And when he attempted to bless the Sacred Well, terrible spectral creature rose out of the water and attacked him. He defeated them and returned to us. I remember thinking at the time it was odd that a servant of Awran would risk angering one of the other gods of his pantheon and that the spectral creatures were surprising as gods of death rarely have truck with such beings. I was to have answers soon enough.</p><p></p><p>Filled with apprehension, we continued on towards the Pit, again with W scouting ahead. Only find that the where the road debouches it was guarded by three ranks of animate skeletons. Each of the thirty odd skeletons holding a great axe and waiting. Soon enough, they spotted us and rushed forward, a silent wave of bone and steel. I hasted myself and with the aid of the scorcher and some magic missiles from my fan, we quickly dispatched the skeletons with minimal damage to ourselves. W’s halberd smashed through the skeletons’ bones with great efficiency.</p><p></p><p>Then things turned against us, a cloud passed before the sun and from the pit emerged Maccara in his black armour and a gray-skinned Annan, back from the dead but not fully alive, with a shimmering greataxe. Maccara’s first action was to call down a roiling wave of fire upon me. Thankfully, Fuchs’ sharp senses allowed me to dodge in time to avoid the worst of the fire, but I was still badly burned. Aoelif, naturally, ran forward to engage the quasi-living Annan while the Stephanite and Ingolf rained arrows upon Maccara with little effect. I quickly took cover behind a mound of excavated earth from the Pit. The others were struck at by serpents of fire released from Maccara’s staff. Ingolf and W nimbly avoiding the flames but the Stephanite and the Druid were badly burned and the Druid’s dire wolf was entirely consumed by the flames!</p><p></p><p>I could not see it, but Aoelif soon ended the quasi-life of Annan much to the anger of Maccara. He demanded Aoelif’s name and when she gave it, he became enraged and tore away his breastplate and helm revealing an ash gray and twisted body beneath with a twisted symbol bound into the flesh of his chest. (Which I later learned was the symbol of Nyag, the Rolgulkan Demon-God of the Unliving.) His eyes flared with an unhallowed green fire. “I have unfinished business with you!” He cried.* “You denied me my ritual in Rolgulka, now I will have my vengeance! You will replace Annan at my side and serve me in a dark eternity after I have savaged your body and soul!”</p><p></p><p>With that revelation he pointed a bony finger at her and then gestured to the pit behind him. “Jump, Fianna!”</p><p></p><p>Aoelif jerked, struggled against his Dark Will for a moment, then ran towards the lip of the pit and threw herself in!</p><p></p><p>The rest of us struck against him as we could but to no avail. His armour turned the arrows of our warriors and some powerful ward caused the magic of my spells to flow off him like water off a roof. Magic missiles, glitterdust, more magic missiles, all without effect. I was near to despair. But the Necromancer was perched on the edge of the Pit, near to a wooden platform that overlooked it. Out of desperation, I used shatterfloor. The Necromancer seemed unaffected, but the ground around him and the edge of the platform were shattered and splintered. He lost his balance and tumbled backwards into the pit.</p><p></p><p>We rushed to the edge of the pit to see what had happened to Aoelif and the Necromancer, as the Stephanite flew on wings of air. I prayed the fall had finished the creature.</p><p></p><p>We arrived just in time to watch the Necromancer pick himself up and summon a massive flux of dark energy which he plunged back into his body, causing his body to twist and reform -- The wounds and tears in his gray skin sealing over. All the fight seemed to go out of Ingolf when that happened. I was none too steady either now for Aoelif's sake. Gudlaug and the Stephanite seemed all too willing to fight to the death, which was likely to be ours.</p><p></p><p>The Necromancer strode over to Aoelif, who was lying injured in the pit, with a flick of his wrist, The three knobs at the end of the staff detched and grew spikes - three balls and chains slid from his blackwood staff like snakes uncoiling on ropes of slime. With a single blow, he struck Aoelif unconscious and placed his boot on her throat. </p><p></p><p>With his eyes ablaze with unhallowed light he looked up to us and said, “Serve me in a simple task, and she may yet survive this day.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you want of us?” I asked, my throat dry and tight, as if his boot rested upon my neck and not Aoelif’s. My mind racing as I tried to think of a way to help her.</p><p></p><p>“A task that serves us both. Bring me Lord Vihar’s son and I will return the Fianna to you, alive. We both will benefit, as Lord Vihar is no friend to you, weather you have the wits to know it or not. Deny me and you will meet the Fianna again only as the puppet-servant of Nyag.” </p><p></p><p>A dark laughter seemed to underlay his words, as he had no fear of us. With a gesture from his left hand, two shadowy spirits were summoned to guard his flanks. Ingolf’s sent an arrow winging against the Necromancer but it shattered like rotten wood against his unnatural skin. “Give me your answer, or suggest something of equal value!” He demanded leaning forward, placing more weight upon Aoelif’s throat.</p><p></p><p>“It will take time,” I called out, hating to see Aoelif so vulnerable and the Necromancer leaned back, easing the pressure upon her neck.</p><p></p><p>“How do we know we can trust you to keep your bargain?” asked Ingolf, another arrow nocked and ready.</p><p></p><p>The Necromancer laughed, a sound like a death rattle, “I could swear upon my god but, somehow, I do not think that would satisfy you.” He idly swung his triple ball and chain, letting the balls strike the ground only inches from Aoelif’s skull. “The question is: do you have <strong>any</strong> choice but to trust me?”</p><p></p><p>“Aoelif would never ask this of us,” hissed Gudlaug, “she would die before serving this . . . thing. We must fight.” Ingolf nodded and grimly took aim. I, wearily, readied another spell. The Stephanite floated above the Necromancer, obviously prepared to martyr himself, his bow ready. W tensed for action at my side. I fully expected to die here, but, thank Logos and all the Saints, it was not to be.</p><p></p><p>“As you choose!” called the Necromancer. Then, wrapping his left hand tightly in Aoelif hair, he called upon his dark god and like a shadow exposed to light, he melted from this plane to another one, Aoelif with him. Ingolf’s arrow tore through the space that the Necromancer had just occupied, while Gudlaug’s prayers died on his lips. The shadow guardians faded only a second later, leaving only an unnatural stillness and the stink of death in the air.</p><p></p><p>“She is lost to us!” cried the dwarf, anger and sorrow vying for control of his voice.</p><p></p><p>____________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>* I was later informed by Ingolf that the heroes -back before the Druid joined them- had encountered agents of this being, the ‘Necromancer’, before on the edge of Rolgulka. There the heroes had prevented him (it?) from completing a terrible ritual that would have created some horrid creature, a foul necromantic wyrm they believed, to serve him and his dark master.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="CleverName, post: 208597, member: 2591"] [b]Nyssa' Journal, Part 5 (Adventure 44)[/b] [B]Nyssa’s Journal: Evil Unmasked[/B] 11th April (Saint Felix’s Day)- After a breakfast with a subdued Eidine and Tira, Leith uses one of his tattoos to shift into the form of a mighty stag, unfortunately he did not warn us so I was not able to observe the effect fully. Leith then leads us a few hours through the woods on game trails and back paths. When we emerge, he points out the road to the Pit, it has been well used of late with signs of widening and recent wagon traffic. W scouts ahead as we travel down the road. After about a mile, we secrete our mounts in a grove out of sight of the road and continue on foot. A little further down, W finds a guard post at a crossroads. W and Ingolf circle around to prevent them from getting help, and after a few minutes to let them get into position, we advance down the road. They halt us and demand that we turn back and Gudlaug is unable to convince them otherwise. Losing patience, Gudlaug smites them with a crashing wave of water (the same effect he had used on the Chimera I believe) that smashed them into unconsciousness. The Stephanite binds them securely with rope and leads their horses away to be hobbled with ours. We start slowly down the road to the Pit while Gudlaug changes into an eagle and follows the other road to the Sacred Well of Brigit. Within but a short time Gudlaug returns, looking a bit shaken. He informs up that the Sacred Well has been defiled and the house of the Ollave destroyed. And when he attempted to bless the Sacred Well, terrible spectral creature rose out of the water and attacked him. He defeated them and returned to us. I remember thinking at the time it was odd that a servant of Awran would risk angering one of the other gods of his pantheon and that the spectral creatures were surprising as gods of death rarely have truck with such beings. I was to have answers soon enough. Filled with apprehension, we continued on towards the Pit, again with W scouting ahead. Only find that the where the road debouches it was guarded by three ranks of animate skeletons. Each of the thirty odd skeletons holding a great axe and waiting. Soon enough, they spotted us and rushed forward, a silent wave of bone and steel. I hasted myself and with the aid of the scorcher and some magic missiles from my fan, we quickly dispatched the skeletons with minimal damage to ourselves. W’s halberd smashed through the skeletons’ bones with great efficiency. Then things turned against us, a cloud passed before the sun and from the pit emerged Maccara in his black armour and a gray-skinned Annan, back from the dead but not fully alive, with a shimmering greataxe. Maccara’s first action was to call down a roiling wave of fire upon me. Thankfully, Fuchs’ sharp senses allowed me to dodge in time to avoid the worst of the fire, but I was still badly burned. Aoelif, naturally, ran forward to engage the quasi-living Annan while the Stephanite and Ingolf rained arrows upon Maccara with little effect. I quickly took cover behind a mound of excavated earth from the Pit. The others were struck at by serpents of fire released from Maccara’s staff. Ingolf and W nimbly avoiding the flames but the Stephanite and the Druid were badly burned and the Druid’s dire wolf was entirely consumed by the flames! I could not see it, but Aoelif soon ended the quasi-life of Annan much to the anger of Maccara. He demanded Aoelif’s name and when she gave it, he became enraged and tore away his breastplate and helm revealing an ash gray and twisted body beneath with a twisted symbol bound into the flesh of his chest. (Which I later learned was the symbol of Nyag, the Rolgulkan Demon-God of the Unliving.) His eyes flared with an unhallowed green fire. “I have unfinished business with you!” He cried.* “You denied me my ritual in Rolgulka, now I will have my vengeance! You will replace Annan at my side and serve me in a dark eternity after I have savaged your body and soul!” With that revelation he pointed a bony finger at her and then gestured to the pit behind him. “Jump, Fianna!” Aoelif jerked, struggled against his Dark Will for a moment, then ran towards the lip of the pit and threw herself in! The rest of us struck against him as we could but to no avail. His armour turned the arrows of our warriors and some powerful ward caused the magic of my spells to flow off him like water off a roof. Magic missiles, glitterdust, more magic missiles, all without effect. I was near to despair. But the Necromancer was perched on the edge of the Pit, near to a wooden platform that overlooked it. Out of desperation, I used shatterfloor. The Necromancer seemed unaffected, but the ground around him and the edge of the platform were shattered and splintered. He lost his balance and tumbled backwards into the pit. We rushed to the edge of the pit to see what had happened to Aoelif and the Necromancer, as the Stephanite flew on wings of air. I prayed the fall had finished the creature. We arrived just in time to watch the Necromancer pick himself up and summon a massive flux of dark energy which he plunged back into his body, causing his body to twist and reform -- The wounds and tears in his gray skin sealing over. All the fight seemed to go out of Ingolf when that happened. I was none too steady either now for Aoelif's sake. Gudlaug and the Stephanite seemed all too willing to fight to the death, which was likely to be ours. The Necromancer strode over to Aoelif, who was lying injured in the pit, with a flick of his wrist, The three knobs at the end of the staff detched and grew spikes - three balls and chains slid from his blackwood staff like snakes uncoiling on ropes of slime. With a single blow, he struck Aoelif unconscious and placed his boot on her throat. With his eyes ablaze with unhallowed light he looked up to us and said, “Serve me in a simple task, and she may yet survive this day.” “What do you want of us?” I asked, my throat dry and tight, as if his boot rested upon my neck and not Aoelif’s. My mind racing as I tried to think of a way to help her. “A task that serves us both. Bring me Lord Vihar’s son and I will return the Fianna to you, alive. We both will benefit, as Lord Vihar is no friend to you, weather you have the wits to know it or not. Deny me and you will meet the Fianna again only as the puppet-servant of Nyag.” A dark laughter seemed to underlay his words, as he had no fear of us. With a gesture from his left hand, two shadowy spirits were summoned to guard his flanks. Ingolf’s sent an arrow winging against the Necromancer but it shattered like rotten wood against his unnatural skin. “Give me your answer, or suggest something of equal value!” He demanded leaning forward, placing more weight upon Aoelif’s throat. “It will take time,” I called out, hating to see Aoelif so vulnerable and the Necromancer leaned back, easing the pressure upon her neck. “How do we know we can trust you to keep your bargain?” asked Ingolf, another arrow nocked and ready. The Necromancer laughed, a sound like a death rattle, “I could swear upon my god but, somehow, I do not think that would satisfy you.” He idly swung his triple ball and chain, letting the balls strike the ground only inches from Aoelif’s skull. “The question is: do you have [B]any[/B] choice but to trust me?” “Aoelif would never ask this of us,” hissed Gudlaug, “she would die before serving this . . . thing. We must fight.” Ingolf nodded and grimly took aim. I, wearily, readied another spell. The Stephanite floated above the Necromancer, obviously prepared to martyr himself, his bow ready. W tensed for action at my side. I fully expected to die here, but, thank Logos and all the Saints, it was not to be. “As you choose!” called the Necromancer. Then, wrapping his left hand tightly in Aoelif hair, he called upon his dark god and like a shadow exposed to light, he melted from this plane to another one, Aoelif with him. Ingolf’s arrow tore through the space that the Necromancer had just occupied, while Gudlaug’s prayers died on his lips. The shadow guardians faded only a second later, leaving only an unnatural stillness and the stink of death in the air. “She is lost to us!” cried the dwarf, anger and sorrow vying for control of his voice. ____________________________________________________ * I was later informed by Ingolf that the heroes -back before the Druid joined them- had encountered agents of this being, the ‘Necromancer’, before on the edge of Rolgulka. There the heroes had prevented him (it?) from completing a terrible ritual that would have created some horrid creature, a foul necromantic wyrm they believed, to serve him and his dark master. [/QUOTE]
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