The Adventures of the Knights of Spellforge Keep- UPDATED 6/6

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As for Ziona, she and Xaltar have just moved into their new house, so I'd venture to say it'll be a while before you hear from either one again.
 

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To the best of my knowledge that is Ozzy, on the cover of my favorite album of all time- BLACK SABBATH. Sabbath's first album, and just effing classic. Such perfect grooves.

Anyway... I'm about to start writing.

Hey, please tell me how pathetic I'm being. Once I have nothing to write anymore, I'm thinking of actually doing fan fiction. Fanfic. The lowest crap a geek can sink to, besides furry porn fanfic. I can't decide between my two favorite fictional heroes to write for, and it occurred to me to do a crossover, because what the hell, I'm a nerd, let's go all out. BUFFY vs. SWAMP THING. Do the implications grab anyone, or just me? It'll probably never happen, but I'm thinkin' about all the coolness. Ehh. Fanfic. I really suck. NERD!
 

The Knights returned to Spellforge Keep. They walked over the drawbridge and were greeted by Captain Metus.

Since his recent death, Vek had again given Metus a calling from the lands of death… but this time, he came back different. Captain Metus was now a fierce skeletal creature known as a death knight. He wore a mask of the skull, as Vek did, wore Vek’s old black armor, and now… smelled like Vek. The eyes glowed dimly within their sockets as he watched the Knights return.

“We’re back, Metus, although your master seems to have turned tail and run off to show off his new bauble. Some hero,” Kizzlorn announced. “Is everything okay around here?”

Metus nodded silently, staring at her with blazing orange pupils.

“I liked you so much better when you were alive.”

Edge said “I know. It’s just like Vek, except… almost creepier.” They walked into the dining hall.

Grumbar’s head popped out of the kitchen. “Hi! Is there dragon meat?”

Broldek said “Nope. He turned to ashes.”

“That’s too bad.” Grumbar furrowed his brow. “Oh. I guess there’s no point asking if you won, right? Hey, who wants to try my new recipe? Bread spaghetti!”

Kizzlorn sighed and kept shuffling on. “I would, Grumbar, but I’ve got to put my pack away.”

Edge spoke too quickly. “I’ll put it away for you if you’d like, mistress Kizzlorn!”

“I’m okay.”

“Really, it’s no trouble.”

She looked at him and he blushed. The halfling’s feelings for the taller woman were too rapidly becoming clear to her, and every indication was that she had no like feelings of her own. “I said I’m okay,” she replied, not quite coldly.

Dartan watched the exchange without interest, then said “You’re really taking to this cooking thing, eh, Grumbar?”

“It’s my calling.”

Meepo yelped from the kitchen. “Did they taste it yet?”

“Not YET...” Grumbar grinned and held out a steaming bowl of… something… under Dartan’s nose.

Dartan sniffed. “Uh. So. Bread spaghetti?”

“I call it Spabreaddi.”

6th of Suns’ebb

Kizzlorn came downstairs. Her hair, as usual, was a mess. Edge stared up at her from the breakfast table, thinking just how wonderful her hair looked, the messier it got. It really did bring her face out, and made even the colorful tapestries on the wall pale out of vision. She-

“Edge?”

He shook his head, coming out of his daydream. “Uh, yes! Yes.”

“Is Vek back?”

“No. This came for you this morning.” He held out a parchment letter. She opened it and read.

Kizzlorn~
These are dire days indeed. We just destroyed a mountain that walks. Truly the greatest of the titans we have yet faced. It killed two of us before we took it down (Kyler and Nova have been resurrected, of course). They’re getting bigger, Kizz… and there are more of them than we knew. How many apocalyptic beasts can rise from the oerth??

Don’t fear. By the grace of Pelor, we will succeed. I will continue to pray for you. Pelor tells me he will help you, and send angels to protect you. He also tells me to forgive Dartan, for he too shall be shown the glories of the Shining One.

Please give Dartan my kind greetings. We miss him, and would like to have him back, if he will rejoin us.
your loving brother,
Raelin

“This is grim,” she said, folding the letter. “Things are about to get very bad. Crow has the last key. We need Vek to show us how to find him.”

“It’s been two days… Where could he be?”

The bell rang.

“He’ll catch up,” Kizz said as she walked towards the drawbridge. “Uncle Vek never lets us down.” She peered through the portcullis. “Hello?”

The man there wore the clothes and symbol of Pelor. He squinted in at her. “Hello. Are you Miss Spellforge?”

“I am.”

“My name is brother Rannidor. I’m a pilgrim from the Radiant Beacon. We’re a small enclave of worshipers of His shining might, the one true flame’s spirit, the shining…”

“Pelor,” Kizz interrupted. “I see. What can we do for you?”

His face hardened. “We recently received a divine message. It seems one of our own lies here, out of grace.” She stared blankly. He rolled his eyes and said “Undead. You keep the mortal remains of one of His followers here, unburied, unconsecrated… and undead.”

This surprised Kizzlorn. “What? Who?”

“We don’t know. All we know is that Pelor claims to have learned of one of his chosen heroes being bound here to undeath. The people in neighboring towns tell that a lich reigns here… What have you to say?”

“A lich does… LIVE… here, but you’re mistaken about the follower. All of Sir Vek’s servant skeletons are fallen foes, and Captain Metus consented to the change.”

“Then you won’t mind if I have a look around.”

“No. Not at all. We have nothing to hide here.”

He stepped inside, warily eyeing the death knight in macabre black armor, who was eyeing him back. “I will need to see the lich’s chambers.”

“I’m afraid this cannot be done. Vek keeps his chambers privately, and we respect his space. Besides this, it is trapped.”

“Good lady,” Rannidor said, looking at her. “I am but the ambassador. I am here to fully investigate the goings-on here. If you withhold information from me, I shall have to report this to my brothers… who are each and every one itching to go to war with this lich. Denying me access to his quarters will give them the justification they need to assault your castle in the hundreds.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine. But he’ll not like this… and YOU will accept the consequences of what you do when he finds out.”

“The children of Pelor fear no lich,” he said as he opened the door to the basement and descended.

She watched for a moment, then followed. “I’m going too. I want to supervise this.”

Behind her, everyone else followed. Aside from wanting to make sure this cleric didn’t do anything suspicious, they were all dying to know just what lay downstairs.

The traps were bypassed with as much care as could be spared. Edge’s delicate fingers had cleverly defused each waiting trapdoor, each hidden rune, each deadly scything blade. They passed a skeleton idly sweeping a broom about the corridors. “Hello, Lela,” Broldek said. Lela gave no reply… she just kept sweeping, as was her fate as a thief who’d tried to rob Vek’s dungeon, some ten years ago. She just kept pushing that broom.

Finally, the door to Vek’s study stood black before them. Edge finished picking the lock and the large iron door swung inward.

“The profane influence here is palpable,” Rannidor said. “Look at those books. Each filled with grotesque secrets of the pit, no doubt. An altar. A shattered statue of stone. A symbol of Wee Jas! And… there. That is what I came for.” He pointed, and Kizzlorn looked to see. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and Edge held a torch up. Scant light illuminated a skeletal corpse sitting in a chair in the corner. It wore rags and some rusted pieces of armor. On this armor was the ruined symbol of Pelor.
kylacorpse.jpg

“This is what we sow, when we lie with liches,” Rannidor said. “The fruit of the grave. It is cursed with magic, and it is black and terrible.”

The skull on the skeleton’s neck turned to face them. The jaw opened. Dust wafted down, and no sound came.

Kizzlorn gasped. “Oh, how horrible. I… I assure you, we didn’t know about this. I don’t even know who he was.”

Rannidor picked up a large piece of fallen armor and held it up for the torch’s light to illuminate. “She,” he corrected.

Everything clicked into place, and Kizzlorn’s heart stopped beating for just a moment. She opened her mouth, found her breath, and screamed.

An hour later, the Knights of Wee Jas were driven from the castle. Kizzlorn had banished them all. “Go. Flee to your devil-master, if you can. You’ll find him in Hell!”

Kizzlorn’s horror had quickly turned to white-hot rage. She would find Vek, destroy him, make him beg for forgiveness… then his phylactery had been found. The shattered statue of Wee Jas in Vek’s chambers had held his phylactery since it had been given to Kizzlorn’s parents on their wedding day… save for a brief time during Acessiwal’s theft of it. Now, it was in thousands of tiny, glittering pieces. Wherever he had gone to, Vek had died… and this only made Kizzlorn angrier. She was denied her revenge, and her impotent rage ate itself as she stood sobbing under the grave tree in the yard. She was inconsolable. The sky was overcast: a deep, drowned gray.

Kizzlorn’s aunt Kyla was being committed to blessed ground in her own grave behind the Keep. The priest Rannidor had gently laid her into the soil and consecrated her remains. Her soul slipped free of her prison, and Kyla Ohanna finally found peace.

“Be eased, child,” Rannidor said. “There were two parts to the message about your castle. Pelor is kind. There is darkness, but always, there follows light. The shining one is to bless you with a gift.”

“We’ve had a bellyful of gods and their gifts for one day,” Dartan growled.

Kizzlorn murmured “What is it.”

Rannidor completed filling Kyla’s grave, and he topped it with a golden symol of Pelor. “You are in terrible darkness. I believe you mentioned that you needed Vek to help you to save the world? As I told you. There is darkness, but always…” He gestured to the clouds above, and they parted. “There follows light.”

A pure shaft of the sun’s light shone down through the clouds upon the graves of the Knights, and the living Knights who stood honoring them. The white radiance shone down and blinded them with its goodness. Hope kindled in them from the feel of the sun on their faces.

Edge pointed. “What is that?” His keen eyes saw something, far above. Something was descending from heaven. Two somethings.

“They are angels,” Rannidor said, mounting his horse. “The world needs light. Pelor sends his avenging angels to carve a shining way through the gloaming. This is his gift to you. Good day.” He smiled and rode away.

The two figures floated down to Oerth on tapered, feathered wings through the column of sunlight. The sight was as gorgeous as any Kizzlorn had ever seen, and her troubles were almost forgotten. Angels. They were waving and calling to the Knights now, with voices that sounded like the cheering of a chorus of trumpets.

“Greetings!” One called.

“Hail, and well met!” said the other..

“We are Menerous…”

“And Myramus…”

“MAXIMUS!”

Their fists bashed together in the air triumphantly, and the sound boomed down over the land like a rolling thunderclap.

NEXT: THE INVITATION
 
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ALL RIGHT! THEY'RE BACK!

My twin brother and I usually play as clerics of Pelor and when we first read about the Maximus brothers we were very excited. Then one died from a freak accident and the other in a lousy save vs. death attack (I think, happened awhile ago) so it was a gigantic let down. It'll be fantastic to see them wreak havoc on evil once again. Good job Doc.

*goes to find the two pewter figurines he has of yellow/blue clerics*
 

Wonder Twin Powers Activate !!!

form of a Gorilla... form of a Broom

woot !! very cool update and I like the new PC's :) have yall been messin around with Savage Species ? Just wonderin... I like the way Lela handled the revaltions about 'uncle Vek' , it seemed like a solidly rp'd situation.
 

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