Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 4019876" data-attributes="member: 46615"><p>One approached me, a concerned look upon his face. “Do you know the way to the chapel?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>“Um, no.” I replied slightly taken aback. One would think that a worshipper in his own temple would know where the chapel was. </p><p></p><p>“We seek sanctuary good sir. We have just escaped a plague of rats and seek to recuperate in your temple.” I continued, recovering myself. </p><p></p><p>He looked confused for a moment before asking once again, “Do you know the way to the chapel?”</p><p></p><p>Now it was I that was confused. The man seemed to ignore everything that I had said. “Excuse me?” I queried gently, “I do not know where your chapel is, but we would appreciate any help you could give.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you know the way to the chapel?” he responded.</p><p></p><p>I HATE GERECHIANS! How much more annoying and unhelpful could a person be. My patience was wearing thin. “No.” I said sharply as I pushed past him. </p><p></p><p>There were two doors along the wall on either side of the pit. I hoped they would lead us to someone more intelligible than the chapel obsessed Gerechians. Alas, the first was a weapons room that had been looted, although Morgan did spy some spears and halberds that had not been taken. </p><p></p><p>The second was much more interesting. It was empty other than a set of breast plate that lay of the floor. Emblazoned upon it was a stylised Gerechian symbol; a small white circle with the straight arrows radiating from it.</p><p></p><p>As Morgan walked toward it, no doubt to examine it further, Strav caught him on the shoulder.</p><p></p><p>“Stay your feet friend.” He said pointing at the wall.</p><p></p><p>The word ‘Mine’ had been written on it in blood. Even though it had dried an age ago it still sent an eerie shiver down my spine. </p><p></p><p>“Perhaps that is for the best, Morgan.” I said, supporting the Elf.</p><p></p><p>Morgan hesitated, then shrugged Stravarious’s hand off his shoulder and strode purposefully forward. He knelt and lifted the armour, turning as he did so. “No, I think I’ll be fine.” He said with a sly smile and with that removed his own armour and donned the other.</p><p></p><p>I wonder if that mask had told him to take it. He cut the figure of a fine Gerechian crusader in that armour and the mask of Valentin. Interesting, perhaps the young Fastendian was turning away from his beloved Thuus and being converted by Gerech. It was bad enough being polite to Gerechians, but calling one comrade was surely going too far.</p><p></p><p>One thing had become clear to us. This temple was not one that was practicing. Words written in blood were not the work of Gerechians, that was much more styling of Geduld’s followers. So why on earth were there Gerechians still here? Why had they not been killed by the followers of the God of Death? It was they that had marked the doors of this temple and apparently looted and defiled it. Why had the Gerechians made no effort to clean and cleanse their holy site?</p><p></p><p>We turned our attention to the pit, an obvious obstacle to the other doors and the exit to this corridor. Gerechian corpses, old and new almost filled it. Their white robes stained red with blood from where massive spikes that rose from the pit had punctured them. I looked away with a grimace of distaste. Whilst I did not like Gerech or his followers and I did not feel any sense of loss for them, I did feel rather nauseous at the sight of their rotting bodies. </p><p></p><p>A decision was quickly made to avoid attempting to cross that foul pit and go back to the entrance chamber and try the other door. </p><p></p><p>With the live Gerechians in tow (Argonne the intelligent had told them we were looking for the chapel), we headed back. That boy does not think sometimes. I cannot fathom why he would want those cretins following us about and I was even less pleased when the choir decided to join us as well.</p><p></p><p>Our swollen party passed through the other door and were greeted with a very familiar sight. Six more statues lined one wall. One wore the same vacant look that Artyom had, but three, including one Valentin, the apparent owner of Morgan’s mask, wore expressions of anger and frustration.</p><p></p><p>“Why is the statue angry?” asked Morgan.</p><p></p><p>“How would we know?” said Mortec sharply, less than impressed at Morgan’s Gerechian attire.</p><p></p><p>“I was asking the mask.” Morgan responded gruffly and chose to keep any further discussions with his mask to himself.</p><p></p><p>Just as with the first statue-lined corridor there was a door at the end of this one. It opened into yet another passageway also containing four doors along the wall. Gerechian architecture seemed to be based on a principle of order. The similarities we saw in front of us when compared to the previous corridor were disturbing enough for Argonne to order the Gerechians following us to lead us forward. I arched an eyebrow in his direction. He touched his finger to his nose conspiratorially. I got the distinct feeling that a wink accompanied the gesture but due to the mesh cloth that covered his face I could not see for certain (with Morgan joining Argonne and Stravarious in wearing something that obscured their features I was beginning to feel that I was associating with bandits!). Then it dawned on me; the concealed pit! </p><p></p><p>“Oi you lot! The chapel is way down this corridor, behind that door yonder.” He said pointing vaguely to the door at the very far end of the corridor. He had recognised the similarities and decided to use expendable Gerechians to test his theory.</p><p></p><p>Callus it may be, but they were only Gerechians. It was not as if Argonne was sending useful people to their doom. In any case the deed was done. They plodded forward in their catatonic state. Fortunately, depending on your point of view, they traversed the cobbled floor without incident. </p><p></p><p>Our confidence reinforced by our new and willing explorers we undertook a quick search of the four rooms. I was quick to snatch the only things of interest; a map of the city of Godsheim, the original home of the Gods, now deep within the Dominion, and a book entitled Crime and Punishment, Laws of Gerech. I was not sure who was more excited by the find of the book, Mortec or I. </p><p></p><p>The others urged us to hurry along, impatient swine. I conceded that now was probably not the best time to advance my knowledge and stashed the book and map in my pack. Mortec was aghast, as if a little boy had had a brand new toy taken from him. </p><p></p><p>Argonne’s zealots milled about in front of the door at the end of the corridor, apparently unable to open it. Strav pushed them aside making a path for the rest of us and opened the door. Joy of joys, more Gerechians. I almost damned Geduld for not doing the job right, but bit back my words. No point bringing yourself to the attention of the God of Death, probably no point damning the God of the damned either for that matter.</p><p></p><p>Several more of the white robed Gerchians stumbled about the large room slowly. Upon seeing us they asked the same question that their brethren had, “Do you know the way to the chapel?”</p><p></p><p>I ignored them and took in the surrounds. The walls of the room had once been beautifully painted, I could still make out vibrant colours in some places, but now they were mostly covered in blood and symbols of the death God. Wooden benches and tables lay in ruin and torn paper was strewn all over the floor. The people we found in this room all clutched torn pages and appeared to be reading them. It was as if they did not realise that the books that had once held the paper were long gone. </p><p></p><p>The poor blighters were not only cursed by worshipping the loathed one, but they also seemed to be in some trance, perhaps cast upon them by the Geduldian priests and doomsayers.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Haraash Saan, post: 4019876, member: 46615"] One approached me, a concerned look upon his face. “Do you know the way to the chapel?” he asked. “Um, no.” I replied slightly taken aback. One would think that a worshipper in his own temple would know where the chapel was. “We seek sanctuary good sir. We have just escaped a plague of rats and seek to recuperate in your temple.” I continued, recovering myself. He looked confused for a moment before asking once again, “Do you know the way to the chapel?” Now it was I that was confused. The man seemed to ignore everything that I had said. “Excuse me?” I queried gently, “I do not know where your chapel is, but we would appreciate any help you could give.” “Do you know the way to the chapel?” he responded. I HATE GERECHIANS! How much more annoying and unhelpful could a person be. My patience was wearing thin. “No.” I said sharply as I pushed past him. There were two doors along the wall on either side of the pit. I hoped they would lead us to someone more intelligible than the chapel obsessed Gerechians. Alas, the first was a weapons room that had been looted, although Morgan did spy some spears and halberds that had not been taken. The second was much more interesting. It was empty other than a set of breast plate that lay of the floor. Emblazoned upon it was a stylised Gerechian symbol; a small white circle with the straight arrows radiating from it. As Morgan walked toward it, no doubt to examine it further, Strav caught him on the shoulder. “Stay your feet friend.” He said pointing at the wall. The word ‘Mine’ had been written on it in blood. Even though it had dried an age ago it still sent an eerie shiver down my spine. “Perhaps that is for the best, Morgan.” I said, supporting the Elf. Morgan hesitated, then shrugged Stravarious’s hand off his shoulder and strode purposefully forward. He knelt and lifted the armour, turning as he did so. “No, I think I’ll be fine.” He said with a sly smile and with that removed his own armour and donned the other. I wonder if that mask had told him to take it. He cut the figure of a fine Gerechian crusader in that armour and the mask of Valentin. Interesting, perhaps the young Fastendian was turning away from his beloved Thuus and being converted by Gerech. It was bad enough being polite to Gerechians, but calling one comrade was surely going too far. One thing had become clear to us. This temple was not one that was practicing. Words written in blood were not the work of Gerechians, that was much more styling of Geduld’s followers. So why on earth were there Gerechians still here? Why had they not been killed by the followers of the God of Death? It was they that had marked the doors of this temple and apparently looted and defiled it. Why had the Gerechians made no effort to clean and cleanse their holy site? We turned our attention to the pit, an obvious obstacle to the other doors and the exit to this corridor. Gerechian corpses, old and new almost filled it. Their white robes stained red with blood from where massive spikes that rose from the pit had punctured them. I looked away with a grimace of distaste. Whilst I did not like Gerech or his followers and I did not feel any sense of loss for them, I did feel rather nauseous at the sight of their rotting bodies. A decision was quickly made to avoid attempting to cross that foul pit and go back to the entrance chamber and try the other door. With the live Gerechians in tow (Argonne the intelligent had told them we were looking for the chapel), we headed back. That boy does not think sometimes. I cannot fathom why he would want those cretins following us about and I was even less pleased when the choir decided to join us as well. Our swollen party passed through the other door and were greeted with a very familiar sight. Six more statues lined one wall. One wore the same vacant look that Artyom had, but three, including one Valentin, the apparent owner of Morgan’s mask, wore expressions of anger and frustration. “Why is the statue angry?” asked Morgan. “How would we know?” said Mortec sharply, less than impressed at Morgan’s Gerechian attire. “I was asking the mask.” Morgan responded gruffly and chose to keep any further discussions with his mask to himself. Just as with the first statue-lined corridor there was a door at the end of this one. It opened into yet another passageway also containing four doors along the wall. Gerechian architecture seemed to be based on a principle of order. The similarities we saw in front of us when compared to the previous corridor were disturbing enough for Argonne to order the Gerechians following us to lead us forward. I arched an eyebrow in his direction. He touched his finger to his nose conspiratorially. I got the distinct feeling that a wink accompanied the gesture but due to the mesh cloth that covered his face I could not see for certain (with Morgan joining Argonne and Stravarious in wearing something that obscured their features I was beginning to feel that I was associating with bandits!). Then it dawned on me; the concealed pit! “Oi you lot! The chapel is way down this corridor, behind that door yonder.” He said pointing vaguely to the door at the very far end of the corridor. He had recognised the similarities and decided to use expendable Gerechians to test his theory. Callus it may be, but they were only Gerechians. It was not as if Argonne was sending useful people to their doom. In any case the deed was done. They plodded forward in their catatonic state. Fortunately, depending on your point of view, they traversed the cobbled floor without incident. Our confidence reinforced by our new and willing explorers we undertook a quick search of the four rooms. I was quick to snatch the only things of interest; a map of the city of Godsheim, the original home of the Gods, now deep within the Dominion, and a book entitled Crime and Punishment, Laws of Gerech. I was not sure who was more excited by the find of the book, Mortec or I. The others urged us to hurry along, impatient swine. I conceded that now was probably not the best time to advance my knowledge and stashed the book and map in my pack. Mortec was aghast, as if a little boy had had a brand new toy taken from him. Argonne’s zealots milled about in front of the door at the end of the corridor, apparently unable to open it. Strav pushed them aside making a path for the rest of us and opened the door. Joy of joys, more Gerechians. I almost damned Geduld for not doing the job right, but bit back my words. No point bringing yourself to the attention of the God of Death, probably no point damning the God of the damned either for that matter. Several more of the white robed Gerchians stumbled about the large room slowly. Upon seeing us they asked the same question that their brethren had, “Do you know the way to the chapel?” I ignored them and took in the surrounds. The walls of the room had once been beautifully painted, I could still make out vibrant colours in some places, but now they were mostly covered in blood and symbols of the death God. Wooden benches and tables lay in ruin and torn paper was strewn all over the floor. The people we found in this room all clutched torn pages and appeared to be reading them. It was as if they did not realise that the books that had once held the paper were long gone. The poor blighters were not only cursed by worshipping the loathed one, but they also seemed to be in some trance, perhaps cast upon them by the Geduldian priests and doomsayers. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Sir Gerard d'Montfort - In his own words (a tale of Anka Seth)- Updated Nov 11th
Top