Part 5
Well, here at last is the next installment in Kalten's journal. Enjoy!
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Part 5: The Fight for Tabat
My father, once again I find some time in which to write you of my travels in the war-torn Hintaneese borderlands. I hope these missives reach you, so that you know I remain sound, if rarely safe. I pray to Tilsman, Keeper of the Covenant, that you are well and that our household prospers. As I previously wrote, we had made a harrowing escape from the accursed priory at the edge of Tabat. Though we routed the demon-worshippers within, and recovered an evil gemstone known as the Heart of Tolem (the price for Murias’s assistance in entering), we lost our comrade Solemund, priest of Barlam and mightiest of our company.
The next afternoon, fully recovered, Girion, Segnarus, Landotharan and myself gathered to discuss our best course of action with Sen Beldazar at the Keeper’s temple. Baruk had yet to recover from his wounds, and was resting under the watchful eyes of the priests (who did not want him to behave as Lando had, when they cared for him). The mysterious letter found at the priory gave us some answers, but more questions. Clearly there is a conspiracy by worshippers of the crow-headed demon, Simarul. There is a curse of uncertain consequences, which is spread by the consumption of local corn. A wealthy grain merchant from Cir, one Saragorn, seems to be involved. And one of the villains, named Naranath, seems to have great influence in Tabat’s ruling council. Most worrisome of all, the conspirators strongly support the attack on the Kundrian forces at the fork of the Antarius.
As we discussed our options, one of the acolytes announced there was a person named Morbazzan asking for us. The Sen told us he was a mysterious figure, known to practice the arcane arts, reputedly with considerable skill. There were many rumors about him, but the only fact Beldazar knew for certain was that he was acquainted with our friend Solemund. He was allowed to join us. On first impression he was reminiscent of the departed Barlamite – young, shaven-headed, ascetic. But he was tall and spare rather than muscular, and had several odd tattoos on his scalp. He appraised us with an intent gaze on his coal-black eyes, but I could not feel the taint of evil within him – and he seemed to be free of the corn’s curse.
Morbazzan curtly asked Beldazar to let us speak in private, and the Sen reluctantly agreed to give us a few minutes. I found his distrust of the Sen quite strange, but was curious as to his motives. He promptly asked about Solemund, and was deeply saddened to hear news of the priest’s passing. Apparently they had met at Barlam’s monastery, where he had been raised to be a monk. However, while translating ancient texts he had developed an interest in the occult, and soon left his church to pursue arcane matters. He seemed intent in learning about Solemund’s mode of burial, of which we were ignorant, as we had spent most of the day in sleep after our ordeal.
At that time Beldazar returned, announcing that the barlamite had been buried among the fallen priests of Tilsman (which is not unusual, as the priests of these gods are usually in good terms). Girion then spoke a question we all shared – whether there was a risk of our friend rising as an undead creature, given what we had seen in the defiled priory. Morbazzan insisted that the body should be burned, despite Beldazar’s assurances that he had been consecrated. In the end, the Sen agreed to take us to see our friend’s grave. Only Segnarus decided against joining us, for he wished to ask questions around town regarding our suspicions.
The cemetery was outside town, amidst an olive garden. As we crossed it, we noticed several of the tombs stood open. Girion swiftly cast for sign, and promptly determined that their occupants had dug their way out! We quickly made our way to Solemund’s grave, as Morbazzan uttered arcane words. He informed us he could see no magic within our friend’s tomb, but all the open ones radiated necromantic energies, as did a half-dozen closed ones – all of which were freshly dug. Could it be it was the accursed corn that made dead men arise as monstrosities? This time, when the wizard suggested the tainted corpses should be burned, Beldazar agreed, and summoned his acolytes as we paid our final respects to Solemund’s memory.
Segnarus met us on our return to the temple. The swarthy thief-catcher had learned that Eltross himself had forced the decision to send Tabat’s forces to join those of Erecos in the attack on the Kundrian forces, despite strong objections from the rest of the council. This certainly seemed to incriminate him. Thus we decided to head back to the Inn in the Hole, where seneschal Lorem had agreed to meet us. Hopefully he could shed some light on his master’s role in this affair.
We reached the tavern as the sun set over Tabat. The patrons within seemed to be the same ones we saw on our last visit, two nights past… was it possible they never left? A plain-faced wench with an ample bosom led us to a table, and offered to bring us food and wine, which we gratefully accepted (with the stipulation that no corn should be served). The innkeeper promptly came to us, with a written message from Lorem, asking us to wait in the inn if we wished to speak with him.
While we awaited this meeting, Morbazzan examined a platter of corn, and announced it was enchanted with “abjuration and necromantic” magics. Our perplexed expressions made him smile, as he deduced we knew nothing of such matters. The wizard could best explain it as a “poison for the soul” – a ghastly curse indeed. He then surprised us by sharing his wine with a jade-colored toad he kept as a pet of sorts.
At that moment Lorem walked into the inn, and joined us. He announced his intention of leaving the town by dawn, but wished to hear our tale first. He seemed pensive, but not entirely surprised, on hearing of our findings. For he had noticed that Eltross (whom he no longer referred to as ‘lord’) had changed since the initial raid on the priory – he was more introverted, very secretive, and strange sounds were often heard from his chambers. The former seneschal attempted to hide this, to keep order in the household. But after our conversation in the keep (and after confirmation by Sen Beldazar) he decided he could not be a part of this situation, and resolved to leave the town.
We asked if he could help us enter the keep, as we had a strong suspicion this “Naranath” who wrote the letter might be none other than Eltross himself. Lorem informed us that at the height of the Kundrian wars, Tabat was a frequent target for orcish raiders. Thus the townsfolk had dug a network of tunnels so that they could hide and move about unseen. The seneschal knew of one of these underground passages which led directly to the Lord Constable’s dungeons. He offered to show us the entrance if we would wait until after he left (at dawn the next day) to enter the castle. Once we agreed, and thanked him for his help, he left the inn with Girion and Segnarus, to lead them to the tunnel’s entrance.
Whilst they were gone, Morbazzan, Landotharan, and I discussed another difficult matter – the Heart of Tolem. The wizard was intrigued by this item, and questioned the wisdom of giving it to criminals such as Murias and his unknown patrons. Though there was some truth to his words, I felt he also wished to learn more about the artifact. But I had given my word to the dwarf that we would deliver the vile stone as payment for his aid in entering the priory. And as you taught me, father, a knight speaks truthfully, or not at all. After a long discussion we reached a compromise: we would spend the night at the inn, so that Morbazzan could prepare certain incantations that would allow him to learn more about the Heart of Tolem. But we WOULD give it to Murias once the wizard completed his investigations.
Soon our friends returned with the location of the tunnel entrance, and a key that would let us into the dungeons. After my first good night’s sleep in several days, I arose with the dawn for my prayers and sword practice. I joined my friends for breakfast, to learn Morbazzan was locked in his rooms examining the Heart of Tolem. He joined us close to mid-morning, looking rather harrowed. He would not tell us the details of his work, but he found the black gemstone was certainly powerful, and it seemed to allow some sort of control over undead horrors.
Again he warned us of the obvious, that the stone could be quite harmful in the wrong hands. This ignited another argument as to the best next course of action. Segnarus pointed out our situation was precarious, as we were being sought for questioning regarding the fire at the priory. I hate to admit, father, that I was at that time close to losing my temper, for Morbazzan again insisted that we should keep the evil stone, despite our promise to Murias. But fortunately the matter was put to rest when the smuggler himself walked into the Inn in the Hole.
The grizzled old dwarf requested some privacy, which the hostler provided by ordering all other guests to leave the common room post-haste. He joined us, and announced the purpose of his visit was to “conclude our business”. Murias did not bother to acknowledge Morbazzan’s glare, as he named our payment for the stone: one thousand gold lions, his aid in leaving Tabat unseen, and our safety (insofar as he could) until the next morning. The wizard could control himself no longer, and asked Murias if he knew the evil priestess’s name. The dwarf asked why we wished to know, and Morbazzan answered “revenge”, as I blurted out “justice”.
“Justice?” The smuggler smiled. “In that case… Let me ponder on this”. But any pondering by Murias was cut short as Segnarus tried to get some information from him in his clever way.
“My friend, I do not ask WHO your patrons are… But can you tell us anything of their motives?” Murias seemed amused by the question. He would only say the item was going to the right hands. Concerned that this discussion would continue without resolution, I quietly handed the sack holding the Heart of Tolem in its glass case to the smuggler.
“You have done the right thing, friends – and saved your own lives by doing so.” He then handed us a key such as those used in the inn. “I will consider our business concluded once I leave this tavern. Remember, I can only guarantee your safety until dawn. Oh, and about justice…” He quickly scribbled a note for us, and left. It only said “the constable.”
The innkeeper let his usual customers back into the common room (and I must say they did not seem the least bit surprised or offended by the forced interruption in their libations – these dealings may not be very rare here.). He then pointed us to the room where our reward awaited us. Therein we found another note – which read “for your trouble” – a chest full of gold lions, and five glass vials filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Morbazzan, who was skilled in alchemical as well as arcane matters, quickly examined the liquid. He announced it was a strong purgative, enchanted with “abjuration” magic (Which he quickly explained meant it was protective in nature. Truly, this man speaks of matters completely unfamiliar to me, and which seem somehow—unwholesome. But he soon proved his worth and courage, as you shall see). He stated they did not seem to be harmful, but there was only one way to know their true purpose.
I thus took one of the vials and emptied it in a single, long draught. Instantly I was overcome by simultaneous bouts of coughing and vomiting, my muscles went rigid, and I lost consciousness. I awoke (after a few minutes of convulsions, as my friends told me) to see Lando in the same condition. But as sick as I felt, I was elated, for I could not longer see the insidious taint in the half-elf or myself. Segnarus and Girion promptly drank their own vials, braving the ill effects gladly. As I offered a prayer of thanks to Great Tilsman, I could not help but wonder at the fact that Murias’s patrons could revoke a curse that resisted Sen Beldazar’s efforts…
With the curse, and the Heart of Tolem, gone, there was no further reason for argument. We decided to get some more rest, as we intended to face Eltross that very night. The innkeeper sent a stable boy to fetch one of the acolytes of Tilsman, to whom we entrusted the fifth vial of antidote (so that Baruk could be cured) and a note telling the Sen of our intentions.
As soon as Nelos covered Tabat in his dark shroud, we girt ourselves for battle, and headed for the hidden tunnel entrance. Murias had been true to his word, for there was no sign of the city watch. The ranger and thief-catcher led us through winding streets to an old, unassuming, and seemingly abandoned stone and mortar house. Segnarus opened the door, but all was dark within. As Girion prepared a torch, Landotharan impetuously entered the room, trusting to his elvensight. And almost immediately we heard his scream of pain, as well as the bestial growls of his unseen assailants.
The ranger’s torch flared to life, and we could see Lando swinging his blade wildly, but we could not see his foes! As we entered, a gash appeared along Segnarus’s arm, and he blindly riposted with his twin short blades. I could see nothing but the half-elf fighting for his life, but there was palpable evil in this bare stone room. Suddenly, our foes were visible: two gaunt, skeletal creatures that could have been cachectic, hairless monkeys except for their horns, batwings, and skeletal tails. Morbazzan reacted quickly, chanting arcane words, and two crimson eldritch balls slammed into one of them. Segnarus and I pounced on the closest one, and it screamed as Hintaneese and Falconian steel cut into its tough hide. It started to cast a spell, but we assailed it again, until it exploded in a flash of brimstone.
The other beast stepped back from us, made mystic passes with its claws, and vanished. We could not find it, but soon discovered an open trapdoor, with a crudely-carved stairway leading into darkness. Lando led the way, again trusting to his unnaturally keen vision. He was followed by Segnarus (once more bearing his eldritch torch), me, Morbazzan, and Girion at the rear with another torch. After descending over forty feet into the darkness, we came to a wider passage, roughly six feet in height (which made the wizard and myself crouch, to Lando’s amusement). The passage seemed to be quite long, for we could hear a howling wind. I joined the half-elf in the vanguard as we marched into the darkness.
The tunnel seemed endless, and we would quickly have become disoriented if not for the fact it traveled in a straight line. At irregular intervals, there were up-sloping side passages, all leading to boarded-up entrances. It seems the townsfolk have not needed or used these tunnels in some time. After walking for the better part of an hour, Lando and I simultaneously tripped on an unseen obstacle. We heard metallic sounds from the corridor ahead, but these only lasted a few seconds. By our torchlight we saw that we had broken a thin tripwire – a bad omen, to be sure.
With growing dread, we slowly advanced, weapons at the ready. At the edge of our torchlight we could see that the passage opened into a large room. The ranger from Roedran whispered: “Careful! I hear some sort of large creature ahead.” Somehow his wilderness-honed senses could identify the sound of heavy footsteps and bestial breathing despite the howling wind and echoes.
Praying to Iolanthes for courage, I stepped into the room, my kite shield in front of me. I could now hear the bestial grunting myself, as by Segnarus’s enchanted torch I saw I was in a much larger room, at least ten paces to a side, with a ceiling as high as three tall men. The main passage continued on the opposite side of the room, but our attention was drawn to two great portcullises on the walls to our left and right. They stood about half-way open, and to our horror, their respective occupants must have caught our scent, for they growled fiercely and stepped into our light.
We saw twin monstrosities straight out of a child’s nightmare. They were perhaps eight feet tall, perhaps more. Their forward stoop, with arms dangling past thick claw-footed legs to the ground, made it hard to tell. The hairless green skin moved upon their bodies. Their heads were each a gash of a mouth, a yard-long nose, and two eyes which were black pools, without pupil or white, eyes which drank the feeble torchlight and never gave back a gleam. I could hear the shock in Girion’s voice as he whispered: “Trolls…”
But for all their great size, they were quick as lightning, and soon Lando and I were fighting for our lives. My foe raked me viciously, drawing sparks from my shield and cuirass. I could hear Morbazzan chanting as I struck back, but its hide managed to turn Aerbrand’s edge. Suddenly, a large black and crimson wolf, smelling of brimstone, appeared beside me, and attacked the beast, only to be mauled to pieces by the dagger-sharp claws. I took advantage of this momentary distraction to press my attack, and thrust my sword deep into its vitals… only to see the wound begin to close as soon as I withdrew my steel!
Father, I knew as I fought that I was vastly outmatched. This horror would not be bested by steel alone. My only hope lay in my friends, as even as I traded wounds with the troll, Girion shot grey-goose shafts over my shoulder, and Morbazzan flung eldritch orbs of acid, which seemed to truly hurt the beast. And then… disaster. For Landotharan cried out, as his foe savaged his neck with wicked claws. The half-elf fell to the earth, nearly dead.
Screaming a battle cry, I ignored my foe and leapt at Lando’s to keep it from finishing my friend. Morbazzan rushed to the half-elf, to bandage his wounds as best he could. The troll reared and struck at me, its claws tearing my face and almost ripping my helm off. While it was thus engaged, the thief catcher struck from behind, driving his right-hand sword deep into the massive chest. The creature roared, and collapsed, but already its wounds were beginning to heal. But the wizard was ready for this, and used his eldritch acid to ensure the fallen beast would not rise.
The other monster again savaged me, its claws ripping through my mail as if it were linen. Only my gorget saved my life. But now the fight was more equal, as Segnarus and I pressed it with swords, while Girion punished it with arrows. The beast, maddened with pain and fury, flailed around itself wildly. Its right claw bounced off my shield, but its left caught Segnarus full in the chest, and the wiry thief-catcher crumpled.
Girion then dropped his bow, and whipping his blade out on the run, ducked under a swiping claw and gave the beast a fearsome slash along its ribs. As the monster turned from me to savage the ranger, I had a moment’s respite, perhaps my last. Aerbrand gleamed in the torchlight as I raised it, and by Morcandor’s might struck the troll’s head from its massive shoulders. Morbazzan used fire to make sure the beast joined its brother in whatever hell awaits such monsters, as I checked on my fallen comrades.
Landotharan and Segnarus were both grievously wounded, and even my prayers could only staunch the flow of blood and help them regain consciousness. They each quaffed a healing draught, and were able to stand once again. It was when I helped them up that I noticed the seriousness of my own injuries – going on would be difficult in our present condition. Girion and Morbazzan returned from exploring the trolls’ nests, where they found the remains of prior victims – two of them warriors, the third a wizard and a worshipper of Etigon, Prince of Lies and Father of Devils. Once Morbazzan collected several enchanted items from them, we quickly conferred, and decided to head back to the temple of Tilsman, to inform Sen Beldazar of what we had found thus far.
The acolyte on guard duty was stunned at our bedraggled appearance, and promptly ushered us into the temple and summoned the Sen. Once we knew Baruk was safely recovering from the curse, we told Beldazar what we had learned, and about our battle with the trolls. The priest was surprised, and outraged, at these creatures’ presence, for they obviously implicated Eltross in the ghastly events taking place in Tabat. He quickly prayed to the Judge of Judges over us, and soon our wounds were all but healed – even Lando and Segnarus were ready for battle once again. We were then surprised when he offered to join us for our assault on the keep.
He explained that he felt a danger such as this required his personal intervention. I assessed him – a man of medium height and build, well into his middle years, but still hale. His gray hair and beard were short but scruffy, but his black eyes showed only wisdom and determination. I argued against his joining us, as I was concerned for his safety, and what would become of Tabat if none of us survived. But Segnarus, ever the lawman, swayed the vote with a convincing argument: if we came through this alive, we could need a witness against Eltross, and who would be more trustworthy than the Sen himself?
Once we had agreed, Beldazar sent a courier with a note to the head of the council at Leriond, and instructed his assistants to start an investigation if he did not return by morning. He then donned an ornate, yet functional breastplate and belted on a sword – and what a sword it was! I have heard of this blade since my arrival in Hintai: Renmemnion, the Sword of Tears. Legend says it was forged by angels and quenched in the tears of a saint. Its appearance lends credence to the legend, for it is made of a yellow metal I have never before seen.
It was well past midnight when we made our way back to the tunnel, and the chamber where we fought the beastly trolls. We found naught but festering corpses, and continued on our way towards the keep. A few minutes later the passage ended in a set of stairs, climbing upwards. These led to a heavy iron gate. Its lock quickly opened with the key Lorem had provided. There were more stairs beyond, leading to what could only be the castle dungeon – complete with a rack, several cells, and a desk. Sitting at the desk was none other than Tobias himself – whom Segnarus had assured us had been hanged the day after we brought him in! But he was obviously un-dead, for he was pale as a corpse, and pieces of his flesh were missing, as if carrion birds had feasted on him. If there were any doubts as to his allegiance, they were put to rest by the pair of skeletal, horned-and-winged creatures which flanked him.
“I have been expecting you,” he said in a croaking voice that somehow held the same arrogance it had in life. “I am what I became when you left me to die.” His tone was accusing. “But I have to thank you for this, for I have found Simarul’s Light, and it will burn you all!” With these words, he gestured, and the eight cell doors flew open. From each emerged one of the undead monstrosities we had fought in the Calemd forest, and again in the priory. An unholy red light shone in their eyes, and their claw-like hands were poised to strangle and maim. The dead traitor laughed: “Give me a good reason to allow you to live.”
Our answer was swift. Girion’s recurved longbow and Segnarus’s crossbow fired as one. The quarrel missed its mark, but the arrow sank deep into the flank of one of the winged demons. Morbazzan started chanting a spell, as Lando and I blocked the doorway so no more than two of the vile corpses could attack us at once. As their claws reached for our necks, Sen Beldazar spoke: “By the Holy Power of the Lawgiver, I destroy you!” And at his words, five of the vile creatures crumbled to dust. Thus is Tilsman’s power revealed in a man of faith.
Enraged, Tobias hurled the desk to shatter against the wall with inhuman strength, and drew his long and short swords. I invoked the power of Tilsman, and though the remaining corpses were not destroyed, they cowered from us, and gave us room to fight. Sen Beldazar called on the Keeper once more, and the remaining clawed corpses were destroyed. As the ranger and thief-catcher plied their bows against the approaching winged demons, a revolting, vaguely humanoid blob of pale flesh appeared next to Tobias, summoned by Morbazzan. As the creature attacked, the wizard sent a brace of eldritch bolts to slam into the undead bandit.
But then my attention was drawn from the demons, and the betrayer, to a new combatant who entered the fray from the castle above. The tall, lithe body clad in light chain mail, the wild mane of lustrous black hair, and the pale, lovely countenance could only belong to Solemund’s slayer! Ignoring the demons’ claws, I charged into the room, Aerbrand flashing in the torchlight. The priestess was hard-pressed to parry my furious onslaught with her short sword. As I pressed her back, she managed to complete an incantation, and her free hand glowed with an unholy radiance. But as she reached for me, death in hand, I swung Aerbrand in a great arc. The priestess fell, her throat torn open. “JUSTICE!” Somehow, I now knew my friend’s shade could find peace.
Turning back to the battle, I saw Segnarus and Girion in bitter struggle with Tobias, as Lando and Sen Beldazar fought the demons. As I approached the undead traitor, the Sen spitted his foe on the Sword of Tears, and it vanished in a burst of fire and brimstone. Simultaneously Morbazzan hit the other creature with his magical missiles. Wounded badly, the creature moved back from Lando’s greatsword, and vanished into thin air. Finding himself alone before us, Tobias shouted: “Master!”, and to our amazement jumped to the ceiling, and crawled rapidly along it as if he were a monstrous spider.
I charged up the stairs after him, coming to a narrow hallway which promptly turned to the left. I could no longer see Tobias as we reached the keep’s main entrance. A great set of stairs led to the second floor, with its balcony and living quarters. We rushed up the stairs, and started opening doors as fast as we reached them. The first one led to an ornate guest room, now empty. The second door opened to a lavishly-decorated meeting room, also unoccupied. Turning a corner, we reached a large wooden door. Segnarus warned he heard people moving within.
Opening the door, we saw that Tobias was indeed within, with two more of the skeletal winged demons. With them was a tall man holding a battle axe, whom we recognized as Eltross. “So you finally come to realize what has passed,” said the erstwhile constable. “But it is too late, for you shall die within these walls.”
At that, one of the demons spoke eldritch words, and a sheet of flame spread from its claws to singe us. Lando leapt into the room, greatsword held high, but Tobias and the winged demons held him at the entrance, and the rest of us remained behind him. Girion and Segnarus sent their arrows into the room, as the half-elf was assailed by three foes at once.
Landotharan lay about fiercely with his massive blade, weaving through his foes until he made enough room for me to join him. Morbazzan summoned another of his blob-like fiends to keep Eltross busy as we struggled to force our way into the room. As Lando hacked at one of the demons, Segnarus rolled in with a brilliant display of acrobatics, and put paid to the other one with his twin blades. I used this opportunity to press Tobias, wounding him deeply with Aerbrand. But the undead villain laughed, quipping: “That almost hurt!”
Tobias then riposted, wounding my sword-arm while I was distracted by another sheet of fire from the remaining demon. But before he could finish me, Morbazzan hit him with his magical missiles, and as he growled defiance, Landotharan skewered him on his greatsword. Incredibly, the traitor was still alive, and began forcing himself up the blade so that he could strangle the half-elf. But Girion the ranger was prepared, and put an arrow through his left eye, sending the betrayer to hell for a second time. As Morbazzan’s spells and Lando’s steel finished the last winged demon, we turned our attention to Eltross.
I reached him first, and wounded him sorely with Aerbrand. But the villain smiled, and to my horror, he reached up ant pulled the skin off his own face! Beneath was a gray oval, featureless except for burning crimson eyes. So this was Naranath. Then we were again surprised as he seemed to convulse, and suddenly he transformed into… me. We were identical, down to armor, weapons and wounds. He fiercely attacked, and I quickly saw a difference… he was more skilled than I.
As we fought sword-to-sword, I could hear my friends discussing the situation. They had no way of telling us apart. Morbazzan cast a spell, and a spray of multi-colored light enveloped us. I assume he meant to incapacitate us both, but only I was stunned, and the creature was free to attack me! Thanks to Tilsman’s graces, the effect was brief, and my armor protected me from Naranath’s assault. Somehow Sen Beldazar was briefly able to tell us apart, and healed my most serious wounds, but our foe quickly dealt their equal. Though I was giving as good as I got, I knew I could not whistand such punishment much longer, and there could be only one outcome.
At one point Segnarus seemed to be able to tell us apart, and wounded the vile doppelganger, but soon the melee whirled us around and he no longer could see a difference. Then Morbazzan hit upon the solution: he started asking questions only I would have the answer to. The creature somehow tried to read my thoughts, but was not always successful, Tilsman be praised. My friends were thus able to help, and we drove the creature back. Until Lando made an apparent mistake: when the monster was unable to answer one of their questions, the half-elf grappled him!
Predictably, the monster transformed into Landotharan’s twin, ornate breastplate and all. It was impossible to tell them apart as they wrestled, trying to strangle each other. But if it worked for my friends… “Who freed you from the orcish slave masters?” I asked. Fortunately only one of them knew of Theodus Orcslayer. I drove my shield between them, and plunged Aerbrand to the quillons into the chest of the monster – and to our surprise, he melted away, leaving only a gray puddle and the lingering stench of sulfur.
We stopped to catch our breaths in stunned silence, only to be horrified by what we saw in the room. It was an extravagant chamber, with numerous tapestries and other ornaments. Chief amongst these were the Lord Constable’s arms—a magnificent suit of banded armor, untouched on its stand, and a shining axe engraved with runes. Beldazar identified the weapon as Brandarum, the horn of battle. But our distress was due to an emaciated figure we discovered, chained to the floor like an animal. It was none other than the real Eltross, but he had been flayed, and somehow kept alive!! The fiendish doppelganger, Naranath, had used his living skin to complete his disguise, and continued to torture the unfortunate man. I covered him with my cloak, as Segnarus freed him from his manacles. Sen Beldazar examined him, and to our relief said that Eltross could recover in time, if properly cared for.
The sun was rising over Tabat once more when we left the keep by its main doors. It was a beautiful sight, and I said a prayer of thanks as I carried the Lord Constable to Tilsman’s fane. As Segnarus predicted, Beldazar’s word was enough to guarantee our safety, and the captain of the guard placed himself at the Sen’s disposal until the council could be convened.
After we had rested, there was another surprise. As a reward for our role in these matters, Sen Beldazar entrusted us with the Blessed Sword of Tears! I think he expected me to bear it, but somehow, it seems wrong for me to wield any blade save your Aerbrand, father. Thus Girion the ranger accepted Renmemnion, and I am sure he will be more than worthy of it.
Thus, though we still have to find the source of this accursed corn, and to elucidate their true motives, I believe the township of Tabat is safe for the present. Their lord has been saved, and our friend Solemund has justice at last. I wonder, father, if this hideous cult is the reason I was compelled to cross the world, rather than the kundrian raiders. But who am I to question Tilsman’s wisdom? I believe our next step is to seek out this Saragorn in Cir, but Segnarus hopes we can gain better information from Tabat’s ruling council, as we are now in their good graces. Be well, father, and pray for me. I will write again as soon as I am able.
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Credit where credit is due: The description of certain monsters was taken (almost) verbatim from Poul Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions (without permission). He was the first to describe them as such, and no description of mine could do them justice.