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Cydra: the Early Years
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1574244" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>The Monastery of Galador</strong></p><p></p><p>Six centuries before, a sect of Strogassian Galadorian monks sought to establish a monastery in service to the Light. They acted quietly, turned all would-be visitors away, and carefully kept up the appearance that they were nonreligious. But after a century and a half, they were found out. The provincial governor of the time dispatched a large troop of undead and men and slaughtered the monks, despoiling the serenity of the area forever. He then cursed the grounds in the name of Bleak.</p><p></p><p>Now a certain villainous party approached the plateau on which the ruins sat. In the lead were Chanticleer Gilder-Ynarlslend, hero of Bleak, the centaur druid Vosh, and Lyr, harpoon-wielding priestess of the Sea, Sky and Land. Straggling behind them came Akakathan, grumbling about the harsh dry air. The merellin would stop occasionally to dribble a little water from his waterskin onto his forehead and neck. </p><p></p><p>The party stopped a few hundred yards away. “Vosh, go take a look for entrances. Don’t get too close,” commanded Lyr. The green-haired centaur nodded and galloped off, circumnavigated the outer wall at a distance of some forty yards, then returned.</p><p></p><p>“Looks like the wall’s crumbled in two places,” he reported. “Two easy entrances- one of them looks to be the remains of the old gate.”</p><p></p><p>“Let’s take the back way,” said Lyr, and the group approached carefully. The wall was made of hewn stone blocks fitted together carefully and mortared into place. The entrance the captain chose was along the north wall, near one corner, and a small hole showed clear signs of assault from a catapult. Clambering over a pile of rubble, the pirates made their way down into the corner of a weed-choked yard. All around them were headstones.</p><p></p><p>“Careful,” Lyr murmured. “We don’t want to wake any restless dead.”</p><p></p><p>“Galador’s too <em>weak</em> to use the undead,” scoffed Chanti, kicking over a headstone.</p><p></p><p>Almost immediately the ground began convulsing. Forms started clawing their way out of the bushes, some up from under the dirt of the graves. In moments the adventurers were surrounded and battling for their lives! The stinking, putrid undead were covered in filth and grime, and as they dug at their living foes with dirty claws they infected the wounds with terrible disease (although the party would not realize this until the morning). Most wore the remains of priestly robes and Galadorian holy symbols. More and more rose up, shambling forward to quickly engage the party.</p><p></p><p>But the pirates were quite capable of defending themselves. After an initial moment of panic, Lyr rallied her troops. “Form up!” she cried, thrusting mightily with her harpoon. It crashed into the ribcage of the undead priest and she released it as she cast <em>flame blade.</em> The brilliant shaft of divine fire flashed all around her as she hacked left and right. Vosh’s terrible hooves crashed down on first one heucuva, then another. He knocked them back like toys. Akakathan sang out, hoping he could help his friends, and Chanti’s blade was a veritable blur as she chopped mercilessly, grinning at the soiled holy symbols. As she chopped one down, she exulted, “These were <em>priests!</em>”</p><p></p><p>Soon the battle was over, and though wounded, the pirates were intact. Counting skulls, they determined that they’d faced fifteen opponents- not too bad, for a group of four!</p><p></p><p>“Still, we’re pretty beat up,” Lyr acknowledged, “so we’d best rest and heal before we try going back in.”</p><p></p><p>The others agreed, and the party withdrew about a half mile. Chanti nervously set up a perimeter and kept glancing in the direction of the ruin as if expecting something to come after them.</p><p></p><p>Occasionally, though, instead of looking north towards the monastery, she would look long and hard to the west, towards Dexter, and her heart would burn with hate. </p><p></p><p>Somehow, she knew, Strogass would bring them back together. And she would <em>kill</em> him.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Heucuva disease sets in!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 1574244, member: 1210"] [b]The Monastery of Galador[/b] Six centuries before, a sect of Strogassian Galadorian monks sought to establish a monastery in service to the Light. They acted quietly, turned all would-be visitors away, and carefully kept up the appearance that they were nonreligious. But after a century and a half, they were found out. The provincial governor of the time dispatched a large troop of undead and men and slaughtered the monks, despoiling the serenity of the area forever. He then cursed the grounds in the name of Bleak. Now a certain villainous party approached the plateau on which the ruins sat. In the lead were Chanticleer Gilder-Ynarlslend, hero of Bleak, the centaur druid Vosh, and Lyr, harpoon-wielding priestess of the Sea, Sky and Land. Straggling behind them came Akakathan, grumbling about the harsh dry air. The merellin would stop occasionally to dribble a little water from his waterskin onto his forehead and neck. The party stopped a few hundred yards away. “Vosh, go take a look for entrances. Don’t get too close,” commanded Lyr. The green-haired centaur nodded and galloped off, circumnavigated the outer wall at a distance of some forty yards, then returned. “Looks like the wall’s crumbled in two places,” he reported. “Two easy entrances- one of them looks to be the remains of the old gate.” “Let’s take the back way,” said Lyr, and the group approached carefully. The wall was made of hewn stone blocks fitted together carefully and mortared into place. The entrance the captain chose was along the north wall, near one corner, and a small hole showed clear signs of assault from a catapult. Clambering over a pile of rubble, the pirates made their way down into the corner of a weed-choked yard. All around them were headstones. “Careful,” Lyr murmured. “We don’t want to wake any restless dead.” “Galador’s too [i]weak[/i] to use the undead,” scoffed Chanti, kicking over a headstone. Almost immediately the ground began convulsing. Forms started clawing their way out of the bushes, some up from under the dirt of the graves. In moments the adventurers were surrounded and battling for their lives! The stinking, putrid undead were covered in filth and grime, and as they dug at their living foes with dirty claws they infected the wounds with terrible disease (although the party would not realize this until the morning). Most wore the remains of priestly robes and Galadorian holy symbols. More and more rose up, shambling forward to quickly engage the party. But the pirates were quite capable of defending themselves. After an initial moment of panic, Lyr rallied her troops. “Form up!” she cried, thrusting mightily with her harpoon. It crashed into the ribcage of the undead priest and she released it as she cast [i]flame blade.[/i] The brilliant shaft of divine fire flashed all around her as she hacked left and right. Vosh’s terrible hooves crashed down on first one heucuva, then another. He knocked them back like toys. Akakathan sang out, hoping he could help his friends, and Chanti’s blade was a veritable blur as she chopped mercilessly, grinning at the soiled holy symbols. As she chopped one down, she exulted, “These were [i]priests![/i]” Soon the battle was over, and though wounded, the pirates were intact. Counting skulls, they determined that they’d faced fifteen opponents- not too bad, for a group of four! “Still, we’re pretty beat up,” Lyr acknowledged, “so we’d best rest and heal before we try going back in.” The others agreed, and the party withdrew about a half mile. Chanti nervously set up a perimeter and kept glancing in the direction of the ruin as if expecting something to come after them. Occasionally, though, instead of looking north towards the monastery, she would look long and hard to the west, towards Dexter, and her heart would burn with hate. Somehow, she knew, Strogass would bring them back together. And she would [i]kill[/i] him. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Heucuva disease sets in! [/QUOTE]
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