Dr Midnight
Explorer
Session 38
Waterday, 12th of Goodmonth
WHITE QUEEN’S GAMBIT
“So… where do we begin?” Vek asked.
“Well, we’re looking for high-ranking members of the Eye of Heironeous. They’re the link to whatever took Gorgoldand away. They’ve got to know something.” Kizzlorn was soothing Snooky, who had just come awake and was coping with the idea of Jamison Crow being in his life again. He hadn’t had to deal with evil Jamison, so it wasn’t as difficult as it was proving for some.
Dartan said “If we’re looking for that, then, we can begin with my father. He was a prestigious member of the cult.”
“He was?”
“Yes… He’s now a member of a group called ‘The Penitent’: a conclave of people doing good for the land who had done evil under Tharizdun’s illusions. They travel around building houses and helping farmers. Things like that. I still get a letter from him now and then, but I never answer them.”
“Sounds good,” Orthos said. “Where will we find him?”
“Somewhere in the Lortmil Mountains, last I heard.”
“Hmmm… that’s about four hundred miles. If we keep a good rate, we can reach them within seventeen, maybe sixteen days.”
“Let me just tighten some security measures around the keep, then, and we can be off,” Vek said with the customary smile in his voice. “Dartan, your dad will be glad to see me.”
Dartan glanced at the lich. Vek had defeated Korgan, Dartan’s father, using an incapacitating spell during Dartan’s final showdown with him. Vek’s justification for interfering in the duel was that Dartan had killed one of HIS ancestors, so wasn’t he owed this? It was something of a sore spot between the two.
Jamison gasped and began searching his pockets frantically. Kizzlorn looked at him and asked “What’s with him? Is he going mad again?”
“Scratch! I forgot about Scratch!” The wizard reached into a pocket that seemed empty and pulled out a sleepy weasel. The weasel came awake, yawned, and yelped with joy at seeing Jamison again. “It’s me, Scratch! I’m not evil anymore… and we’re on an ADVENTURE!” He held the weasel up and kissed it on its nose. The weasel screeched happily.
Dartan and Vek eyed the sickeningly sweet reunion with some distaste. “You were evil and filled with chaos, you murdered your own friends, but you couldn’t bring yourself to kill your familiar?”
“Why would I?” Jamison said defensively. “I love my widdle Scwatch. I don’t think I treated him all that well… perhaps only gave him three cheese cubes a day… at any rate, HE wasn’t all that happy about it. Now all that’s over.” He gave the weasel a big hug and Dartan groaned. He’d forgotten just how silly Jamison was capable of getting. It was almost worse than being evil.
They packed their things, Vek reset all his traps, and they set out.
Starday, 1st of Harvester
“Woah, Tsunami.” Vek brought his undead warhorse to an abrupt stop on the mountain trail. What was left of the creature’s skin was stretched tight over a framework of spindly bones. Light burned in its eyes and it gave off a funny smell.
They had found the conclave. The Penitent worked the hillside, wearing thick brown robes, carrying rocks and baskets and rope where it was needed. One approached the group. “Ho, strangers! We are The Penitent. We have little or nothing to give to you, and would greet you in peace.”
“Easy, friend,” Orthos said as he swung down from his pony. “We’re not raiders. We’re here to visit a man named Korgan. This man is his son.”
“You would be Dartan, then? He’s spoken of you. Come.”
Vek murmured to Jamison. “I don’t think my mingling with these types would be a good idea, being what I am.”
Jamison pulled out a simple looking brimmed hat. He held it over. “I have this hat of disguise… It’ll allow you to appear normal, if that would help.”
“That would be very kind of you… thank you very much. I did so look forward to visiting my old friend Korgan.” Vek laughed and put the hat on, unhooked his helm, and revealed a handsome young face. The lips smirked. The hair was long and raven-black. The eyes were dark and darting.
They walked through some dwarf-carved caves towards the back. The man leading them said “I think I should warn you- your father is not well. He has taken the wet-cough, and is bedridden and quite ill.”
“That’s alright,” Dartan said coldly. “I’m not here for a pleasant family reunion.”
They were brought to a room where Korgan lay under three blankets on a cot. He coughed and clutched the blankets to his chest. The years had withered his face. If Dartan was aged at thirty-eight, his father looked positively ancient at sixty. Korgan saw his estranged son and gasped. “Dartan! Son! I’m so glad to see you. Did you get my letters?”
“Save it,” Dartan barked. “I’m here on business.”
The crinkled old eyes blinked in sadness. “What? I… I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you, son, but I can only offer you my love now-“
“I said save it. We need to know where to find members of the Eye of Heironeous before you die.”
Jamison said “You’re being a little harsh, don’t you think?”
Dartan looked at him with fiery murder in both eyes. “Don’t say a thing to me. Ever.”
Orthos, a kindly and good holy man, stepped forward with a furrowed brow. “Dartan! How dare you speak like this to your own father? He only wants your forgiveness, and you treat him like this. I should be ashamed to father a son like you.”
Dartan turned away. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“Nor do I need to, I suspect,” Orthos said, “to guess that you are a callous man.” To Korgan he gently said “I will ease your suffering, friend. Lie still and take the blessings of Moradin.” He prayed over Korgan and the man’s coughing abated. He began to feel better.
Orthos tended to him and asked him the questions they were seeking, as Dartan was obviously not going to be much help. “Can you tell us where to find surviving members of the Eye of Heironeous?”
“Hmm… I should like to forget everything I did under their banner, but I do recall several members and where they went to before I left to fight my son. I know now that the high priest I’d known was a man named Hedrack, and I don’t know where he went. I do remember a group of our most powerful going south. If you could find them, or where their bodies lie, I’m certain you could find some information leading you to more. Their leader was a powerful man in the organization. They went to a town named Whiteport to wipe out the ‘heretics’, as we called them.”
“Whiteport. That’s roughly two hundred more miles to the south, if I’m not mistaken. Who should we say we are looking for?”
“Anyone who was alive back then will remember the Eye of Heironeous, and the awful way we swept through towns, terrorizing the people into compliance. We were so horrible.”
Orthos smiled at him. “Easy, friend. We all make mistakes. You’re sorry for what you’ve done, and this means everything.”
Dartan said “Are we done? Can we go?”
Orthos replied “Yes, we can go.”
“Good. One last thing, then.” He walked up to Korgan’s bed and looked down on his father. “You did one thing for me, old man. You showed me that religion is the path of the weak man. Faith in empty gods is for empty people. I thank you for showing me what a weak mind is capable of. This is all I have to say to you… now go ahead and die.” He turned and walked out. Korgan looked deeply hurt by his son’s words. Orthos watched Dartan go with some anger and horror. He comforted Korgan, then gave his thanks and got up to leave. The group left Korgan.
Vek, who was the last to leave the room, stopped at the doorway. He made sure no one was looking, then removed the hat he was wearing. The illusion melted away. He turned and looked at Korgan with his true face. Korgan’s breath caught in his throat from the horror. “Be seeing you soon,” Vek said, then put the hat back on. He laughed as he walked away.
“Dartan,” Orthos said. Dartan grimaced and prepared for the sermon. “What you did took a lot of courage. I know it couldn’t have been easy to face him.”
They began the travel south to the town of Whiteport.
More to come...
Waterday, 12th of Goodmonth
WHITE QUEEN’S GAMBIT
“So… where do we begin?” Vek asked.
“Well, we’re looking for high-ranking members of the Eye of Heironeous. They’re the link to whatever took Gorgoldand away. They’ve got to know something.” Kizzlorn was soothing Snooky, who had just come awake and was coping with the idea of Jamison Crow being in his life again. He hadn’t had to deal with evil Jamison, so it wasn’t as difficult as it was proving for some.
Dartan said “If we’re looking for that, then, we can begin with my father. He was a prestigious member of the cult.”
“He was?”
“Yes… He’s now a member of a group called ‘The Penitent’: a conclave of people doing good for the land who had done evil under Tharizdun’s illusions. They travel around building houses and helping farmers. Things like that. I still get a letter from him now and then, but I never answer them.”
“Sounds good,” Orthos said. “Where will we find him?”
“Somewhere in the Lortmil Mountains, last I heard.”
“Hmmm… that’s about four hundred miles. If we keep a good rate, we can reach them within seventeen, maybe sixteen days.”
“Let me just tighten some security measures around the keep, then, and we can be off,” Vek said with the customary smile in his voice. “Dartan, your dad will be glad to see me.”
Dartan glanced at the lich. Vek had defeated Korgan, Dartan’s father, using an incapacitating spell during Dartan’s final showdown with him. Vek’s justification for interfering in the duel was that Dartan had killed one of HIS ancestors, so wasn’t he owed this? It was something of a sore spot between the two.
Jamison gasped and began searching his pockets frantically. Kizzlorn looked at him and asked “What’s with him? Is he going mad again?”
“Scratch! I forgot about Scratch!” The wizard reached into a pocket that seemed empty and pulled out a sleepy weasel. The weasel came awake, yawned, and yelped with joy at seeing Jamison again. “It’s me, Scratch! I’m not evil anymore… and we’re on an ADVENTURE!” He held the weasel up and kissed it on its nose. The weasel screeched happily.
Dartan and Vek eyed the sickeningly sweet reunion with some distaste. “You were evil and filled with chaos, you murdered your own friends, but you couldn’t bring yourself to kill your familiar?”
“Why would I?” Jamison said defensively. “I love my widdle Scwatch. I don’t think I treated him all that well… perhaps only gave him three cheese cubes a day… at any rate, HE wasn’t all that happy about it. Now all that’s over.” He gave the weasel a big hug and Dartan groaned. He’d forgotten just how silly Jamison was capable of getting. It was almost worse than being evil.
They packed their things, Vek reset all his traps, and they set out.
Starday, 1st of Harvester
“Woah, Tsunami.” Vek brought his undead warhorse to an abrupt stop on the mountain trail. What was left of the creature’s skin was stretched tight over a framework of spindly bones. Light burned in its eyes and it gave off a funny smell.
They had found the conclave. The Penitent worked the hillside, wearing thick brown robes, carrying rocks and baskets and rope where it was needed. One approached the group. “Ho, strangers! We are The Penitent. We have little or nothing to give to you, and would greet you in peace.”
“Easy, friend,” Orthos said as he swung down from his pony. “We’re not raiders. We’re here to visit a man named Korgan. This man is his son.”
“You would be Dartan, then? He’s spoken of you. Come.”
Vek murmured to Jamison. “I don’t think my mingling with these types would be a good idea, being what I am.”
Jamison pulled out a simple looking brimmed hat. He held it over. “I have this hat of disguise… It’ll allow you to appear normal, if that would help.”
“That would be very kind of you… thank you very much. I did so look forward to visiting my old friend Korgan.” Vek laughed and put the hat on, unhooked his helm, and revealed a handsome young face. The lips smirked. The hair was long and raven-black. The eyes were dark and darting.
They walked through some dwarf-carved caves towards the back. The man leading them said “I think I should warn you- your father is not well. He has taken the wet-cough, and is bedridden and quite ill.”
“That’s alright,” Dartan said coldly. “I’m not here for a pleasant family reunion.”
They were brought to a room where Korgan lay under three blankets on a cot. He coughed and clutched the blankets to his chest. The years had withered his face. If Dartan was aged at thirty-eight, his father looked positively ancient at sixty. Korgan saw his estranged son and gasped. “Dartan! Son! I’m so glad to see you. Did you get my letters?”
“Save it,” Dartan barked. “I’m here on business.”
The crinkled old eyes blinked in sadness. “What? I… I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you, son, but I can only offer you my love now-“
“I said save it. We need to know where to find members of the Eye of Heironeous before you die.”
Jamison said “You’re being a little harsh, don’t you think?”
Dartan looked at him with fiery murder in both eyes. “Don’t say a thing to me. Ever.”
Orthos, a kindly and good holy man, stepped forward with a furrowed brow. “Dartan! How dare you speak like this to your own father? He only wants your forgiveness, and you treat him like this. I should be ashamed to father a son like you.”
Dartan turned away. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“Nor do I need to, I suspect,” Orthos said, “to guess that you are a callous man.” To Korgan he gently said “I will ease your suffering, friend. Lie still and take the blessings of Moradin.” He prayed over Korgan and the man’s coughing abated. He began to feel better.
Orthos tended to him and asked him the questions they were seeking, as Dartan was obviously not going to be much help. “Can you tell us where to find surviving members of the Eye of Heironeous?”
“Hmm… I should like to forget everything I did under their banner, but I do recall several members and where they went to before I left to fight my son. I know now that the high priest I’d known was a man named Hedrack, and I don’t know where he went. I do remember a group of our most powerful going south. If you could find them, or where their bodies lie, I’m certain you could find some information leading you to more. Their leader was a powerful man in the organization. They went to a town named Whiteport to wipe out the ‘heretics’, as we called them.”
“Whiteport. That’s roughly two hundred more miles to the south, if I’m not mistaken. Who should we say we are looking for?”
“Anyone who was alive back then will remember the Eye of Heironeous, and the awful way we swept through towns, terrorizing the people into compliance. We were so horrible.”
Orthos smiled at him. “Easy, friend. We all make mistakes. You’re sorry for what you’ve done, and this means everything.”
Dartan said “Are we done? Can we go?”
Orthos replied “Yes, we can go.”
“Good. One last thing, then.” He walked up to Korgan’s bed and looked down on his father. “You did one thing for me, old man. You showed me that religion is the path of the weak man. Faith in empty gods is for empty people. I thank you for showing me what a weak mind is capable of. This is all I have to say to you… now go ahead and die.” He turned and walked out. Korgan looked deeply hurt by his son’s words. Orthos watched Dartan go with some anger and horror. He comforted Korgan, then gave his thanks and got up to leave. The group left Korgan.
Vek, who was the last to leave the room, stopped at the doorway. He made sure no one was looking, then removed the hat he was wearing. The illusion melted away. He turned and looked at Korgan with his true face. Korgan’s breath caught in his throat from the horror. “Be seeing you soon,” Vek said, then put the hat back on. He laughed as he walked away.
“Dartan,” Orthos said. Dartan grimaced and prepared for the sermon. “What you did took a lot of courage. I know it couldn’t have been easy to face him.”
They began the travel south to the town of Whiteport.
More to come...
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