In Hextor's Name (Completed 22 Oct 2004)

[Mantreus]

From the Journal of Gnorric

I reacted first and let loose with a full compliment of my magical bolts, it seemed to hurt the Armour quite a bit, but it was still swinging wildly at Will. Will tumbled out of the way of the armour and began to drink a healing potion he must have had. Both Kull and Dargrim interposed themselves between the Armour and Will and started swinging at it vigorously. Whatever else you might say about these two, they are very good at hitting things, and hit the Armour they did, soon reducing it to scrap metal.

Once the Armour was disposed of, I rushed over to the book. It turned out to be a collection of scrolls bound together. A veritable plethora of spells! There won’t be enough hours on the day to research all of these! There were also some potions and money of some description in a trapdoor under the tattered carpet. Will got hit by a poison needle but resisted the effects.

The next room we encountered was the library. My heart leapt again, but there was nothing of an arcane nature in any of the tomes. Dargrim did find a book shaped strong box, the lock of which he picked. Inside was a fascinating key of blue crystal. It was quite beautiful to behold, and looked extremely fragile. We put it back in the “book safe” and I put the lot into my bag of holding for safe keeping.

The dining hall we encountered next didn’t contain much of interest apart from a few icicles that Will melted with his flaming sword. Will also found a finely crafted bell that looked like it might be magical. I must remember to identify what it does…

We moved on to the base of what used to be a tower. Most of the wooden stairs were rotted away. That wasn’t what was interesting about the room though. The entire tower was filled with icy strands that whistled a lulling music, obviously an effective trap for the two man-sized spiders that leapt out at us. I was so lulled by the music that my attempt to cast a spectral hand completely failed. At that point I decided to step back and let Will with his impressive flaming sword make short work of them. And that’s exactly what he did, he’s quite the dexterous fellow is young Will. Kull and Dargrim must have helped of course, but they weren’t anywhere near as noticeable as Will leaping about the place. On searching the debris at the bottom of the tower, we discovered a fair amount of gold coins and the remains of past visitors. I took some of the bones and rotting things for my research. It’s amazing how long it takes a body to completely rot away to dust. A sure indication that the dead are a wasted resource! It’s almost like Wee Jas made it that way to ensure people (and all life forms for that matter) can live on and complete their usefulness as undead.

On our way past the kitchen, we discovered a tomb with four sarcophagi. Kull muttered something about the placement of a burial chamber so close to the “mess” being a stupid idea. I personally thought it was an excellent idea. When I’m poking around at the dead, and I get hungry, it’s only a few short steps to make myself a sandwich! I don’t have to drop everything and go halfway across the house (or across town usually!) and forget which particular piece of anatomy I was examining.

Anyway, a ghast and 3 ghouls lifted themselves out of the coffins as we got closer. I hate these things, they give undead a bad name and make my work all the more difficult. Kull immeadiately raised the Fist of Hextor and turned away the three ghouls, leaving them cowering in the corner. The ghast didn’t seemed impressed however. It smelt awful, as ghasts are wont to do, but I was able to shake the nauseating effects (and people tell me I spend too much time around smelly rotting things… pah!) I cast a spectral hand so that I might scare the disgusting thing away with my chilling touch spell. The ghast bit Will and he fell to the ground paralysed. My spectral hand then touched the thing with a chilling touch, but it appeared to shake the effects. Kull stepped over Wills frozen form and joined the battle, he seemed to give the creature some telling blows, but then the ghast leapt in with a quick bite and Kull fell motionless to the ground, a look of rage and surprise on his face.

Then the creature gave a horrible snarl and swung to face Dargrim and myself…

 

[Lela]

It’s amazing how long it takes a body to completely rot away to dust. A sure indication that the dead are a wasted resource!

Okay, why has that never occured to me before?

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

On our way past the kitchen, we discovered a tomb with four sarcophagi. Kull muttered something about the placement of a burial chamber so close to the “mess” being a stupid idea. I personally thought it was an excellent idea. When I’m poking around at the dead, and I get hungry, it’s only a few short steps to make myself a sandwich! I don’t have to drop everything and go halfway across the house (or across town usually!) and forget which particular piece of anatomy I was examining.

Of course, one of these days he's going to get a Ring of Disease Immunity and put his old experiments to one last, practical purpose. Heck, you don't even need to leave the lab!

 

[Capellan]

Kull's 8th Report - Part 4

The ratmen outnumbered my forces, and were blessed with natural speed and agility, but if there is one thing that my experiences in the last year have taught me, it is that training and discipline are the key to success. The ratmen lacked either, swarming in like street toughs, heavy-bladed knives in their hands. A foul black and green sheen marked the blades of their 'king': poison of some kind.

The fight started poorly: Shepherdson recklessly left our lines in an attempt to flank the enemy leader, and found the tables turned on him within seconds. Moments later, he was dead on the ground. Fortunately, Dragrim has a proper sense of military discipline, and together he and I met the enemy like a wall of steel, driving back the ratmen.

I invoked our Lord's name, casting it as a challenge against the ratman chief, and he quailed back, his hands shaking with fear as he fumbled his blows, his knives bouncing harmlessly from Dargrim's shield. That worthy servant of our church no more missed his opportunity than would I, and struck back with his axe, spraying blood across the room as the chieftain fell.

The remainder of his pack lasted little longer than the chief: speed and agility might serve in a gutter brawl, but against trained warriors they avail you little. Rat bodies tumbled to the ground beneath my flail and Dargrim's axe. Even the wizard contributed as best he could, putting one of the beasts into a magical slumber. He even worked up the 'courage' to approach the sleeping creature and attempt to cut its throat: the first and only time I have seen him attempt an act of physical combat. Given the abject failure of his attempt - the ratman woke with barely a nick in its fur - it is not hard to see why. If he is to be of more use to me, I shall have to ensure that he increases his store of magical knowledge. It is quite evident that h will never be of any use when his magic runs out, which it currently does far too readily.

I believe it is Hextor's Will that this flawed weapon should be placed in my hands, so that I can temper him into sturdy steel, or break him in the attempt.

With the enemy defeated, I began the search for the source of the curse. It was obvious to me that the frozen sword or the ice throne must play some part in the matter, but I did not yet have all the final pieces to determine how. I found them in an antechamber to the laboratory.

Four elves were manacled to the walls, covered in frost and apparently dead. However, when I warmed one of the bodies to ease the search for information, the elf's eyes opened, and he offered his thanks for being rescued.

Once I had made it clear to him that any 'rescue' was dependant on a satisfactory explanation of who he was and what his purpose there had been, the elf explained that he and his companions were the adventurers dispatched by the town of Torlynn, to slay the ratmen. I informed him that his failure had led to two years of constant winter, but that the rats were now dead.

The elf indicated his concern that such a curse might be powered by his own sword, a weapon of magical frost. I made mention of the sword in the laboratory, and he claimed the blade as his own: then proved his claim by summoning it to him with a magical command. I considered taking it from him by force - it would not be prudent to leave such a powerful item in the hands of one so weak as to be overcome by these rat creatures - but the moment the sword left it, the ice block began to change, reshaping itself into a foul ice demon of some kind, before lunging forward to do battle.

If the creature was a true demon, it is now returned to its home plane. If not, it is dead. Whichever the case, it will never again so rashly challenge the might of Hextor.

Of far more import than either the elves or the ice creature - though slaying the latter seemed to end the curse, as the ice around the room immediately began to melt - was the discovery in the laboratory of a second of the strange orbs, identical to the one in the lair of the newts. This is further evidence that the spread of the marsh was the result of deliberate action, and may be reversible.

Returning to Torlynn with the elves, who I had at length decided to leave in possession of the sword, I received the thanks of the burgomaster, and learnt of the progress of the war. The fighting had gone badly, and most of the north was fallen, with the defences forced back to the mountains and the edge of the swamp. These at least are natural strong-points, and should hold for some time, but the weakness of the realm is a sign of the weakness of its people, and its rule. I can see that there will be much need of Hextor's strength in the coming months.


In Hextor's Name,

Kull Redfist

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

The fight started poorly: Shepherdson recklessly left our lines in an attempt to flank the enemy leader, and found the tables turned on him within seconds. Moments later, he was dead on the ground.

Gah. That's another one you've lost, Arwink.

 

[Lela]

Now I'm getting realed in by Kull again. I want to know more of this war and it just isn't of use or importance to Gnorric. C'mon Cap, daily update, daily update!

 

[Capellan]

Kull's 9th Report - Part 1

Saltmarsh
Ninth Moon

To: Bishop-General Kartrak Visehart


Report from Kull Redfist


Sir,

I was disappointed to learn that there is currently no acolyte to spare for the position in Torlynn. It is my belief that the Church would gain much from having a representative there, at the front, with the soldiers of this realm. They could gain much from Hextor's strength, and the Church would stand to earn many converts. I am sure you will fill the position as soon as you are able, for the glory of Hextor.

The war continues. All of the north has now fallen. There was, until recently, a single village still unconquered, but this has now been evacuated, and abandoned to the humanoids. I speak of this with firsthand knowledge, for I was there to lead the evacuation.

Upon my return from Torlynn, I found that Saltmarsh had become home to a number of new refugees from the war. Amongst these was a dwarf who follows the travel God, Fharlanghn. This dwarf, one Ulfgar, was unusual in that he had come to Saltmarsh with the intent of heading toward the front, rather than away. His quarrel with the humanoids is evidently due to their invasion sealing the roads, or some similar nonsense. So few people here seem to see this struggle for what it really is: a trial of strength. Either we are stronger, and prevail, or the humanoids are, and we fall. There is no greater or lesser truth to the war than this.

Whatever his motivations, the dwarf is a capable fighter, and I gave him permission to join my force. There have been occasions when I have had to quash some foolish notion of his, but this has something to which I have grown accustomed to doing, with the wizard.

A few days after my return, a large sailing vessel moored off shore of the village. The ship flew the sun banner of the Church of Pelor, and I thus expected that it had come for the local Priest of that faith. However, the message brought ashore asked for my presence. It is not often that the Pelorites seek out the company of those of our faith, and I might have accepted the invitation out of mere curiosity. However, the message specifically stated that they wished to discuss the progress of the war, and I thus had far better motivation to hear what they had to say.

In the end, the matter proved intriguing: though all the lands of the north had been overrun by the humanoids, one village appeared to have avoided capture. The Pelorites could not understand this, for the village - named Newtemple - had neither a strong militia, nor prepared defences. They had consulted their god for answers, but had received only obscure answers, and an impression that something was amiss.

It quickly emerged that the Pelorites were telling me this because they lacked either the strength or the will - or both - to investigate the matter for themselves. They hoped that I would handle the matter for them, in exchange for funds to assist in the preparation of Saltmarsh's defences. I agreed to their request, though not without first ensuring that the payment was more substantial than they had originally intended. Their weakness has led to this situation: now they must pay for that weakness.

With the details agreed, I advised Dargrim, Gnorric and Ulfgar of the expedition. The wizard made some complaint about needing more time to study, but I overrode his protests. There will be time enough for him to study once the war is won.

The next morning, the Pelorites landed in the village, while I boarded the vessel for the voyage north. It seems they lack the courage even to come within sight of the war, let alone fight it.

The voyage was uneventful, showing the timidity of the Pelorites for the cowardice it is, and three days later the crew of the vessel rowed me ashore to the pier at Newtemple. It was evident immediately that there was something unusual going on. Despite the fact that the was had already swept well past this point, the village was as quiet and sleepy - as oblivious, in fact - as Saltmarsh had been, before my arrival.

I was met by one of the local Priests of Pelor, a man who introduced himself as Killian, who advised that the head of their Order would see me in the morning. In the mean time, one of the locals answered my questions about the village's remarkable escape from destruction. By his account, the county has been mystically protected since the 'Edict of 1312', when all weapons were banned. Since that time, any evil creatures who enter the county will immediately become sickened and die.

At my request, the villager explained the boundaries of the county, noting where humanoid forces were camped just outside the borders. It was quite evident from the numbers and sizes of the camps that the enemy forces were easily enough to swamp the town. Of course, without weapons for the defence, it would not have needed much to sack.

The local seemed quite proud of the village's lack of preparedness. His belief was that by relinquishing their every aspect of their safety to the protection of Pelor, the locals have made themselves completely secure.

Complete nonsense, all of it.

 

[Lela]

Complete nonsense, all of it.

The interesting thing is that he's probably right. Pelor, afterall, isn't a Peace deity and, in addition, says there's something wrong going on in that town.

 

[Mantreus]

I must apologise for the lack of updates, but work has been a bit brutal of late. Once things have settled down, there'll be an update-a-rama from me so I can catch up to Cap.

 

[Capellan]

Kull's 9th Report - Part 2

As the information provided by the locals was clearly of little use, I conducted a reconnaissance of the boundary of the county. There were obvious signs of incursions by the humanoids, but - despite the complete lack of defences - these were clearly only raids, with no effort made to occupy the territory.

Given the ease with which the village should have been overrun, the lack of concerted attacks could only mean that either there was something holding the enemy back, or that the humanoids at least believed that there was.

Returning to the Church of Pelor for the night, I instructed the others that we would maintain a guard throughout the night, as I did not choose to put my trust in the villagers claims of divine defence. This decision proved wise, though not for the reason I originally intended: at around midnight, faint echoes of deep and sombre chanting could be heard, seeming originating from somewhere within the church.

No Pelorite worships at the dead of night, nor do their hymns have such dark and heavy tones. Whatever force might lie over this village, it was not what it claimed to be. If any doubt of this remained, after these midnight disturbances, it was dispelled by the ridiculous story with which I was presented, the next morning.

The abbot, Aldiss, showed me a tiny chamber in the heart of the temple, where an acolyte knelt, spinning a golden top, like a child's toy. According to Aldiss, this was the 'Hand of Pelor', an ancient artefact that would destroy any evil that approached it. Aldiss hurriedly added that, despite the hostility Pelor bears toward our Lord Hextor, the artefact would not affect me, as I bore them no ill will. Which suggested that he was even less adept at spotting lies than at telling them.

I thanked him for his time, accepted his offer of a report for his superiors, and informed the others that we would leave the next day. I had to override a protest from Gnorric at this point, and he continued to try and dissuade me from leaving, even after I took my leave of the abbot. It seems he believed I actually meant to leave.

Once I made him understand that I did not truly mean to leave, the wizard finally quieted, and - making sure that there were no Pelorites nearby to overhear - I made the others aware of my intention that we explore the Church that night, to locate the source of the chanting we had heard the night before, and learn what was truly occurring in this town.

Two hours after dark, I gave the word to leave our rooms and begin the search. This immediately ran into an obstruction that was in itself a sure sign that something was being concealed: many of the doors of the church had brand new locks, of formidable complexity. Dargrim inspected them, but was not able to overcome the mechanisms.

Leaving these doors aside at first, I led an exploration of all the more easily accessible portions of the Church. I did not expect to find anything of note - it would be sheer foolishness to protect some areas so well, only to leave incriminating evidence elsewhere, but I have found that people are more often foolish than might be expected, and being thorough often leads to unexpected rewards.

In this case, it availed me relatively little, though I was able to locate the chambers of several acolytes, and bar the door into this area, preventing them from emerging behind us. I doubted they would be a threat, even if they had chosen to fight us, but every chance to reduce the foe should be taken: one of the many wise teachings of our Lord.

With this done, I was faced with the three doors that Dargrim could not open. One guarded the so-called "artefact", one the main tower of the church, and one a small door tucked under some stairs.

I chose to check the tower, first, as any enemies there would have nowhere to retreat. The time for subtlety was past, so I called upon Hextor to silence the area around the door, and then kicked it off its hinges.