Demon Hunt
The Halls of Light, Forinthia
In his capacity as High Priest of the Light, Prayzose has every right to be here- even if the Three Kings all object. He kneels before a great altar, formed of gold and marble and chased with gems and jewels enough to ransom- well, an Emperor. Behind it, flanking it, are statues of Galador and Dexter. There might be one of Prayzose, too, had he not intervened. Curtains of gold cloth cut off the back area from view, but Prayzose knows it well enough. There are levers and pulleys back there that allow the entire dais (on which the altar rests) to move or sink into the ground. Great magic of Galador prevents any terrible evil from entering.
After a long time, Prayzose rouses himself. He has prayed devoutly, and now he ponders the wisdom of his choice. His ideas are liberal, and he is not afraid to stand for his principles above his obligations. He is dangerously free-thinking- he reminds me, to some extent, of several heretical sects. He is also close to Malford’s regime. He has fought against Law in the Great War of Ethics. He has associated with evil for years, those his present company is... improving in quality. Still... at the conference of spellcasters, I found himself liking him a great deal.
And he’s the right man for the job.
High Priest (and Emperor) Prayzose sighs and issues a summons to a page, who arrives in a few moments later with a Peshan-made folding desk, a sheaf of parchments, an ink jar and a leather case full of quills. Prayzose begins dictating a letter to Horbin the Holy.
***
The jungles of Gorel
Horrendous monsters storm from the underbrush at our heroes! Growling masses of muscle in coats of mixed white and rust fur, the things look like some sort of weird, primal wolf with a bear’s stockiness and sheer mass. Fear rolls off of them as they rush in at our heroes. The battle gets ugly almost immediately, as the terrible beasts show a fascinating ability to trip (much like a wolf) and then utterly savage their victims by doing it to several of our heroes in quick succession. There’s a lot of blood spilled in a very short time.
Our heroes respond as they are wont to do. Inoke strides forward, activating a variety of powers as he does, and lays into the first one, dealing an impressive blow with his mace. The blow would crush the life from a normal dire wolf in an instant; the beast merely growls with deep anger. The rest of the party rushes in beside him, Gerontius tumbling in to flank and flashing his daggers into the beast with uncanny speed. Chakar tries to grab and pin one of the beasts, and though it is very, very strong, he does manage to get a hold on it for a few moments. But when it shrugs him off it trips and savages him.
By that time, however, Gerontius’ lingering damage has weakened one of the beasts enough that it Wankerman can finish it with his spear, leaving our heroes free to focus on the remaining monster. It fights with unbelievable ferocity, tearing and ripping at them with the sort of enthusiasm they usually save for their most powerful foes. Which, if you think about it, makes sense, as the party probably is the most powerful foes that this incredible creature has ever faced. Lillamere keeps firing disintegrates that it dodges, then finally invokes a crushing fist of spite on the monster. It pounds down, but the thing can withstand amazing amounts of punishment. Finally, as Inoke batters the thing in the ribs with a brutal blow from his mace, Gerontius makes an opportunistic attack as it whirls to face Inoke. His dagger slashes out, catching the beast in the head as it turns, and it howls as both of its eyes are cut in half. But its howl lasts only a second, as it collapses, dead.
Baron Lillamere glances at the sun’s position in the sky. “Well, I’ve got to go,” he announces.
“What?” asks Horbin.
“I have an audience with the Queen,” he replies. “I’ll be back once we’re done- I’d anticipate a couple of hours. It’s evening anyway.”
Jezebel accompanies Lillamere, and the two greater teleport back to the castle in Var. There the Baron is soon escorted to his audience with the Queen, where he tells her of the party’s current and recent activities. She thanks him for his loyalty and brings him up to date on current events in the interminable war between Western Dorhaus (the state she and God-King Malford lead) and the Tiger Lands (the eastern part of Dorhaus, which was once Imperial Wotan). As it has been for the past couple of years, Goldstone is the problematic bit. In short, it is on the eastern side of the Bendrock Mountains that bisect Dorhaus, giving the Tiger Empress a far stronger legal claim on it. However, Malford’s men got there first, two years before the Tiger Empress’ people arrived on the scene. They already had a thriving colony before she even laid her claim. Goldstone, being an area rich in gold and gems, is obviously nothing that either side will give up easily.
Meanwhile, on Gorel, Horbin has cast find the path and now the group (minus Lillamere and Jezebel) stand above the unmarked grave of Farenth. The work of exhuming the corpse of Dexter’s arch-nemesis is done quickly; the whole time, Horbin’s stomach churns. Whatever he is expecting, he gets a simple skeleton clan in tattered rags.
If I remember the stories right, Horbin thinks suddenly, Cyrax- Alcar’s brother- betrayed Dexter to Farenth, and then Farenth betrayed Cyrax. He shakes his head. Evil consumes its own. Then he casts speak with dead. The skull is not in the best of shape, but it’s enough for a small conversation to take place.
“What is your name?” Horbin demands, just to be sure.
”Farenth” The answer is a rasping hiss peeled from a resentful throat.
“What do you know of Cyrax?”
“Fool”
“Why is he a fool?”
“He is a sacrifice” There is a hint of gloating malice in the empty voice.
“Who sacrificed him?”
“If I don’t... Dexter will”
Horbin stops for a moment, nonplussed by that answer. What the hell does that mean? he wonders. Aloud, he asks, “Why is it important that you be the one to do it?”
“Not”
“Did you serve any masters while you were alive?”
”Yes”
“Did it disguise itself as an angel and trick someone into resurrecting you?”
“No”
Thought I had something there, Horbin thinks ruefully. Phrasing his question carefully, he asks, “Do you know anything of that entity?”
”Yes”
“Do you know where it resides?”
”No”
“Is it your ally?”
There is a brief pause; then, “Not sure”
“Does it currently have servants that can be talked to?”
“Don’t know”
“Who was the last person you knew that was helping this entity?”
”Cyrax”
Horbin rocks back on his feet, pondering. Soon the group makes their camp, settling in a jungle glen with soft, loamy earth underfoot and a thick copse of trees blocking most approaches. As their fire burns merrily, Lillamere and Jezebel rejoin them, finding them by the combination of telepathic communication and the firelight. Horbin, still deep in thought, casts another spell: a miracle, this one to ape a commune.
Was Cyrax offered a bribe to betray Dexter? No.
Was Cyrax threatened into betraying Dexter? Yes.
Was he threatened by the Unidentified Infernal Person, or U.I.P.? Unknown.
Any time I get the answer ‘unknown,’ may I assume it has something to do with this demon? Unknown.
Did the threat to Cyrax come from a mortal? Unknown.
Time for a different tactic, Horbin thinks determinedly.
Did Cyrax think it came from a mortal? No.
Aha, thinks Horbin, an approach!
Did he think it came from a god? No.
Did he think it came from a demon or devil? Yes.
Did he think it came from a demon? Uncertain.
Did he receive the threats mentally? Yes.
Through dreams? Yes.
Were there themes in the dreams so that Cyrax would know that it was a threatening dream? Yes.
Did Cyrax receive threats exclusively through dreams? Yes.
Were the themes of the dreams typical of horror motifs? Yes.
Was there one motif that stood out? Yes.
Did he himself express this motif at any point? No.
Did he develop any irrational fears because of this motif? No.
Did the motif involve blood? No.
Images of the body mutilated, torture, etc? No.
Unholy symbols? No.
Was Cyrax a willing participant in the betrayal of Dexter?
YES.
Horbin’s head rings for a moment. That one word has the sound of judgment.
Did he know he was being used? Yes.
Did Cyrax expect to benefit from the betrayal? Yes.
Did he tell anyone of his plans or expectations of good fortune in the near future? No.
Does the motif in the dreams involve an aberration? No.
Horbin shares what he’s learned with the rest of the party after he comes down from his state of communion.
“Maybe we can ask Mary 9 about it,” suggests Inoke. “She knows lots of stuff.”
“Mary 9!” exclaims Alcar. “She and I go way back! And she does know lots of stuff.”
The group agrees, Inoke with reservations. Mary 9 is a construct shaped like an attractive female tabaxi, and Hobbes, leader of the tabaxi of Dorhaus, is her... owner? Man? It’s hard to say. And Hobbes was an old friend of Drelvin, who died at the hands of Inoke; and even though Inoke was confused at the time, he slew Drelvin- an event Hobbes has, so far, shown no interest in forgiving.
Inoke sighs as the group greater teleports not far from the border of the tabaxi lands.
Next Time: Our heroes get a name for their adversary at last!