The Liberation of Tenh (updated April 24)
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Explorer
Coldeven 1, CY 593
85—All beginnings are endings, but some are the Beginning of the End (reprise).
Tritherion does not choose his Liberators for their piety, or even their devotion to His religion. Tritherion calls the most able, and makes him willing. So it is that inside a mostly darkened room at the top of a nearly abandoned inn nestled within an almost forgotten Tenha mountain village, Heydricus prays fervently, for the first time that he can recall.
In fact, Heydricus isn’t even sure if his prayers are working, until he feels a warmth wash over him, and sees a soft, yellow light through his closed eyelids. He cracks an eye open, worried that peeking might piss Tritherion off, and break whatever miracle he’s managed weasel out of Him.
“Holy sh-t,” Heydricus mutters. “This praying stuff really works!”
“Hello, Heydricus,” Dabus says warmly. “I’ve missed you.”
“Wow, Dabus, you’re . . . bigger! And you’re glowing!”
“It’s because I’m not alive,” Dabus explains sagely. “Although, I’m not dead either.”
“You’re an angel!” Heydricus says.
“Ah, no. Not really. It’s very difficult to explain. You’ll understand more when you are with Tritherion.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I have been empowered to answer your prayer.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Tritherion always answers his Liberator. I have taken a very liberal interpretation of that empowerment, so here I am.”
-----
“I have a surprise.” Heydricus is leading Prisantha up the stairs toward his room, nearly dragging her. She checks her hair and straightens her neckline.
“Really?” She blushes.
“Oh yeah,” he says, grinning at her.
“Now?” She asks. “We just got here. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh, Heydricus.”
Heydricus stops just before his door, and wiggles his eyebrows. “You’re going to be shocked.”
“I am?” She breathes.
“Wait until you see it.”
Prisantha is looking over his shoulder. “Heydricus, something in your room is glowing.”
The Liberator only smiles. “Oh yeah.”
-----
“I can see the future,” Dabus explains. “Or rather, I see what mortals call the future. Technically, the future does not exist, but that may be too difficult of a concept for you right now. Nonetheless, I’m not encouraged to talk about it to you, but neither am I prohibited.
“The dream you had was shared by every living thing on this world with a soul. It marked the beginning of a great and terrible rite. The ritual will take many weeks, and at its end, Iuz will have ascended to full divinity. The crafty demon hid his preparations well. We were all taken by surprise.”
“Full divinity,” Prisantha muses. “What does that mean?”
“It means that this world will be transformed however it suits him,” Dabus says. “The Flannaes is his realm. He is not bound to an outer plane. He belongs here.”
Three heroes gaze at each other.
“I expect that we won’t like it here at all,” Dabus says softly.
“People will fight,” Heydricus says.
Dabus nods sadly. “Yes, they will.”
“We’ve got to stop this,” Heydricus says. “I’m ready now.”
“It cannot be stopped,” Dabus asserts. “There are those who will make the attempt, but they will fail. Even now, they gather in Crockport; the greatest assemblage of heroes this world has ever seen. They will go into Dorraka to disrupt this ritual and prevent the ascension. They will fail, and they will all die. Iuz the god will be born.”
“How can you be sure they will fail?” Prisantha asks.
“The greatest assemblage of heroes?” Heydricus asks.
Dabus shrugs.
Prisantha frowns. “Well, some good must come from this slaughter . . . right?”
Dabus shakes his head.
“Why wasn’t I invited?” Heydricus puts his hands on his hips. “This is bullsh-t. Not that I’d go die with people I don’t even know, when I have you to go die with, but still.”
“I think I would like to know more about this ritual,” Prisantha says.
Dabus thinks for a moment, and the soft yellow nimbus of light radiating off of him intensifies. “I suppose the best way to understand what Iuz is about is to consider taking cider from apples. In one sense, the cider is within the apples the whole time, but the apples must be pressed, that the cider can emerge.”
“Cider?” Heydricus is incredulous.
“When cider is pressed—what is left behind?”
Prisantha sits up. This is almost like the academy. “Pulp, skin, seeds.”
“Yes, but it would be most accurate to say ‘everything that is not cider.’ Through this ritual, Iuz is cleansing himself of everything that is not an utterly amoral, evil god.”
Prisantha frowns. “Literally? Or are you speaking in metaphor?”
“Ah,” Dabus shifts uncomfortably. “There is no meaningful distinction between the two, when discussing the gods. Metaphors are their literal manifestations. It’s a very complicated theological issue.”
“You shall have to explain it to me, someday,” Pris says. “Are these ‘literal metaphors’ physical?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What do they look like?”
Dabus shrugs. “It depends. They can take the form of gems or stone, but the more enlightened parts of a being tend to resemble glowing motes of light—fey lights.”
Prisantha looks at Heydricus. “The emotes!”
“Yes, where are the emotes?” She asks.
“They are in Dorraka,” Dabus says, then adds, “we’ll count that against your questions.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
“Okay, what are we waiting for?” Heydricus begins rooting through the pile of clothes on his bed for his armor. “Let’s go stop them.”
Dabus shakes his head. “No, he is too strong.”
“What about the crusade?”
“Utterly doomed.”
Heydricus squints. “You used to be a ‘can-do’ kind of guy Dabus.”
Dabus nods. “Seeing the future will do that to you.”
Prisantha raises a finger. “Nonetheless, we should warn them.”
“It won’t do any good,” Heydricus says. “If their gods say ‘go,’ they’re gone.”
“But if the effort is doomed,” Prisantha counters. “How is it these gods don’t know this?”
“Oh, they know,” Dabus says.
“Then why send their followers on a suicide mission?”
“Because live or die, Iuz takes the world.”
Heydricus scowls. “Then what the f-ck are we going to do?”
“I thought we could go in just after he attains godhood.”
“Oh, come on now, that’s just stupid.”
Dabus shakes his head. “No, Iuz will be dissolute for a time—disoriented from the process. His priesthood will have to help him reconstitute his identity. He will be at his weakest, and essentially ineffectual.”
“But if he’s already ascended,” Prisantha says, “What’s the point?”
Heydricus knows. “The point is, we kill the most Iuzians that way.”
Dabus smiles grimly, and nods. “It will fall to his priesthood to aid their master’s re-integration and midwife the process. From their point of view, it is a monumental undertaking, and a profoundly profane thing.”
“And then we die,” Heydricus says.
Dabus leans forward, sorrow plain on his face. “The truth, my friends? I’ve been sent back to see to it that your souls make it to Tritherion. Sonahmiin promised you paradise.”
-----
Dabus is answering a commune for the Liberators. Heydricus sits in a chair facing him, and asks questions of Tritherion, while finishing off a basket of spring berries.
“The seven faiths of the crusade are sending their champions?”
“Yes,” Dabus intones, his voice sepulchural.
“Will there be more than twenty of these crusaders?
“It will be the greatest force of heroes ever assembled.”
Heydricus clenches his jaw. “Will Halrond represent Tritherion?”
“Yes.”
“Will he die mad at me?”
“Yes.”
Heydricus rolls his eyes. “Will he ever get over it?”
“Of course.”
Prisantha raises a hand. “Can I ask questions, too?”
“Yes.”
“Do the crusaders understand the futility of their quest?”
“Some of them do, some do not.”
“Could they be swayed to reconsider?”
“No.”
“Will their efforts benefit our mission?”
“No.”
“Will they weaken Dorraka?” Heydricus asks.
“No.”
“Not even in the slightest?” Prisantha complains.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a question!” she protests.
Heydricus snaps his fingers. “Does Belvor intend to go on this crusade?”
“Yes.”
“Goddamnit.” Heydricus frowns. “Legend has it that Iuz’ mother was an archmage named Iggwilv. She has a lost tomb, never found, fabulous treasure, the works. Would finding that tomb profit us?”
“Yes.”
Heydricus looks at Pris. “Could you find it?”
Pris grabs Dabus’ arm. “That’s not a question! Yes, of course.”
Heydricus nods. “Will the Old One’s high ranking priests be in Dorraka for the birth?”
“Yes, all of them. ”
This causes Heydricus’ eyes to light up. “What about the Pale,” he says. “Are they contributing champions?”
“Yes. The High Justicars will represent Pholtus.”
Heydricus grins. “Did I hurt their egos when I implied they hadn’t done enough against Iuz?”
“I’m sorry,” Dabus says. “You’re out of questions.”
-----
“It will be glorious.” Belvor’s eyes are full of life. “I’m sorry you won’t be with us.”
“Well, Halrond’s still mad at me,” Heydricus says. He looks at Belvor, but doesn’t know where to begin.
“This is what I have been praying for my whole life, Heydricus. Finally, the true faiths have gotten together to stomp out that Shadow in the North.”
“Who is involved?” Heydricus asks blandly.
“Well, of course Heironious. Hextor will be represented. Rao, Pelor and St. Cuthbert. Wee Jas is sending wizards, and Halrond will represent your faith.”
Heydricus nods. “Seven faiths, seven stones.”
Belvor smiles and clasps his shoulders warmly. “And seven Liberators, Heydricus. I’m leaving the group. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. If it weren’t for you, I would be stuck with my hind-end growing fat on that accursed throne. Farewell.”
Heydricus nods. “Farewell Belvor. May we meet again.”
“I’ll bring you a trophy from Dorraka!” Belvor waves as Jespo Crim teleports him away.
85—All beginnings are endings, but some are the Beginning of the End (reprise).
Tritherion does not choose his Liberators for their piety, or even their devotion to His religion. Tritherion calls the most able, and makes him willing. So it is that inside a mostly darkened room at the top of a nearly abandoned inn nestled within an almost forgotten Tenha mountain village, Heydricus prays fervently, for the first time that he can recall.
In fact, Heydricus isn’t even sure if his prayers are working, until he feels a warmth wash over him, and sees a soft, yellow light through his closed eyelids. He cracks an eye open, worried that peeking might piss Tritherion off, and break whatever miracle he’s managed weasel out of Him.
“Holy sh-t,” Heydricus mutters. “This praying stuff really works!”
“Hello, Heydricus,” Dabus says warmly. “I’ve missed you.”
“Wow, Dabus, you’re . . . bigger! And you’re glowing!”
“It’s because I’m not alive,” Dabus explains sagely. “Although, I’m not dead either.”
“You’re an angel!” Heydricus says.
“Ah, no. Not really. It’s very difficult to explain. You’ll understand more when you are with Tritherion.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I have been empowered to answer your prayer.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Tritherion always answers his Liberator. I have taken a very liberal interpretation of that empowerment, so here I am.”
-----
“I have a surprise.” Heydricus is leading Prisantha up the stairs toward his room, nearly dragging her. She checks her hair and straightens her neckline.
“Really?” She blushes.
“Oh yeah,” he says, grinning at her.
“Now?” She asks. “We just got here. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh, Heydricus.”
Heydricus stops just before his door, and wiggles his eyebrows. “You’re going to be shocked.”
“I am?” She breathes.
“Wait until you see it.”
Prisantha is looking over his shoulder. “Heydricus, something in your room is glowing.”
The Liberator only smiles. “Oh yeah.”
-----
“I can see the future,” Dabus explains. “Or rather, I see what mortals call the future. Technically, the future does not exist, but that may be too difficult of a concept for you right now. Nonetheless, I’m not encouraged to talk about it to you, but neither am I prohibited.
“The dream you had was shared by every living thing on this world with a soul. It marked the beginning of a great and terrible rite. The ritual will take many weeks, and at its end, Iuz will have ascended to full divinity. The crafty demon hid his preparations well. We were all taken by surprise.”
“Full divinity,” Prisantha muses. “What does that mean?”
“It means that this world will be transformed however it suits him,” Dabus says. “The Flannaes is his realm. He is not bound to an outer plane. He belongs here.”
Three heroes gaze at each other.
“I expect that we won’t like it here at all,” Dabus says softly.
“People will fight,” Heydricus says.
Dabus nods sadly. “Yes, they will.”
“We’ve got to stop this,” Heydricus says. “I’m ready now.”
“It cannot be stopped,” Dabus asserts. “There are those who will make the attempt, but they will fail. Even now, they gather in Crockport; the greatest assemblage of heroes this world has ever seen. They will go into Dorraka to disrupt this ritual and prevent the ascension. They will fail, and they will all die. Iuz the god will be born.”
“How can you be sure they will fail?” Prisantha asks.
“The greatest assemblage of heroes?” Heydricus asks.
Dabus shrugs.
Prisantha frowns. “Well, some good must come from this slaughter . . . right?”
Dabus shakes his head.
“Why wasn’t I invited?” Heydricus puts his hands on his hips. “This is bullsh-t. Not that I’d go die with people I don’t even know, when I have you to go die with, but still.”
“I think I would like to know more about this ritual,” Prisantha says.
Dabus thinks for a moment, and the soft yellow nimbus of light radiating off of him intensifies. “I suppose the best way to understand what Iuz is about is to consider taking cider from apples. In one sense, the cider is within the apples the whole time, but the apples must be pressed, that the cider can emerge.”
“Cider?” Heydricus is incredulous.
“When cider is pressed—what is left behind?”
Prisantha sits up. This is almost like the academy. “Pulp, skin, seeds.”
“Yes, but it would be most accurate to say ‘everything that is not cider.’ Through this ritual, Iuz is cleansing himself of everything that is not an utterly amoral, evil god.”
Prisantha frowns. “Literally? Or are you speaking in metaphor?”
“Ah,” Dabus shifts uncomfortably. “There is no meaningful distinction between the two, when discussing the gods. Metaphors are their literal manifestations. It’s a very complicated theological issue.”
“You shall have to explain it to me, someday,” Pris says. “Are these ‘literal metaphors’ physical?”
“Oh, yes.”
“What do they look like?”
Dabus shrugs. “It depends. They can take the form of gems or stone, but the more enlightened parts of a being tend to resemble glowing motes of light—fey lights.”
Prisantha looks at Heydricus. “The emotes!”
“Yes, where are the emotes?” She asks.
“They are in Dorraka,” Dabus says, then adds, “we’ll count that against your questions.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
“Okay, what are we waiting for?” Heydricus begins rooting through the pile of clothes on his bed for his armor. “Let’s go stop them.”
Dabus shakes his head. “No, he is too strong.”
“What about the crusade?”
“Utterly doomed.”
Heydricus squints. “You used to be a ‘can-do’ kind of guy Dabus.”
Dabus nods. “Seeing the future will do that to you.”
Prisantha raises a finger. “Nonetheless, we should warn them.”
“It won’t do any good,” Heydricus says. “If their gods say ‘go,’ they’re gone.”
“But if the effort is doomed,” Prisantha counters. “How is it these gods don’t know this?”
“Oh, they know,” Dabus says.
“Then why send their followers on a suicide mission?”
“Because live or die, Iuz takes the world.”
Heydricus scowls. “Then what the f-ck are we going to do?”
“I thought we could go in just after he attains godhood.”
“Oh, come on now, that’s just stupid.”
Dabus shakes his head. “No, Iuz will be dissolute for a time—disoriented from the process. His priesthood will have to help him reconstitute his identity. He will be at his weakest, and essentially ineffectual.”
“But if he’s already ascended,” Prisantha says, “What’s the point?”
Heydricus knows. “The point is, we kill the most Iuzians that way.”
Dabus smiles grimly, and nods. “It will fall to his priesthood to aid their master’s re-integration and midwife the process. From their point of view, it is a monumental undertaking, and a profoundly profane thing.”
“And then we die,” Heydricus says.
Dabus leans forward, sorrow plain on his face. “The truth, my friends? I’ve been sent back to see to it that your souls make it to Tritherion. Sonahmiin promised you paradise.”
-----
Dabus is answering a commune for the Liberators. Heydricus sits in a chair facing him, and asks questions of Tritherion, while finishing off a basket of spring berries.
“The seven faiths of the crusade are sending their champions?”
“Yes,” Dabus intones, his voice sepulchural.
“Will there be more than twenty of these crusaders?
“It will be the greatest force of heroes ever assembled.”
Heydricus clenches his jaw. “Will Halrond represent Tritherion?”
“Yes.”
“Will he die mad at me?”
“Yes.”
Heydricus rolls his eyes. “Will he ever get over it?”
“Of course.”
Prisantha raises a hand. “Can I ask questions, too?”
“Yes.”
“Do the crusaders understand the futility of their quest?”
“Some of them do, some do not.”
“Could they be swayed to reconsider?”
“No.”
“Will their efforts benefit our mission?”
“No.”
“Will they weaken Dorraka?” Heydricus asks.
“No.”
“Not even in the slightest?” Prisantha complains.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a question!” she protests.
Heydricus snaps his fingers. “Does Belvor intend to go on this crusade?”
“Yes.”
“Goddamnit.” Heydricus frowns. “Legend has it that Iuz’ mother was an archmage named Iggwilv. She has a lost tomb, never found, fabulous treasure, the works. Would finding that tomb profit us?”
“Yes.”
Heydricus looks at Pris. “Could you find it?”
Pris grabs Dabus’ arm. “That’s not a question! Yes, of course.”
Heydricus nods. “Will the Old One’s high ranking priests be in Dorraka for the birth?”
“Yes, all of them. ”
This causes Heydricus’ eyes to light up. “What about the Pale,” he says. “Are they contributing champions?”
“Yes. The High Justicars will represent Pholtus.”
Heydricus grins. “Did I hurt their egos when I implied they hadn’t done enough against Iuz?”
“I’m sorry,” Dabus says. “You’re out of questions.”
-----
“It will be glorious.” Belvor’s eyes are full of life. “I’m sorry you won’t be with us.”
“Well, Halrond’s still mad at me,” Heydricus says. He looks at Belvor, but doesn’t know where to begin.
“This is what I have been praying for my whole life, Heydricus. Finally, the true faiths have gotten together to stomp out that Shadow in the North.”
“Who is involved?” Heydricus asks blandly.
“Well, of course Heironious. Hextor will be represented. Rao, Pelor and St. Cuthbert. Wee Jas is sending wizards, and Halrond will represent your faith.”
Heydricus nods. “Seven faiths, seven stones.”
Belvor smiles and clasps his shoulders warmly. “And seven Liberators, Heydricus. I’m leaving the group. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. If it weren’t for you, I would be stuck with my hind-end growing fat on that accursed throne. Farewell.”
Heydricus nods. “Farewell Belvor. May we meet again.”
“I’ll bring you a trophy from Dorraka!” Belvor waves as Jespo Crim teleports him away.
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
There was a bleeding stone at the center of a bizarre nest of giants that the liberators cleaned out some time ago... any connection?
Cheers
Cheers
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
I'm hooked. The different layers of deviousness going on, the story, the hooks, and recent updates now.
Thanks for further entertainment. Now to decide on the next Story Hour to tackle.
Thanks for further entertainment. Now to decide on the next Story Hour to tackle.
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Graywolf-ELM said:
Hey, you could try mine!
Just pimpin'
Joshua Randall
Legend
This is like in The Wild Bunch, when they're all like "F-ck it, we're gonna die anyway, may as well take a bunch of those b-stards with us!" Maybe I should update my movie casting so that Heydricus is played by William Holden?
On a (slightly) more serious note: isn't this kind of situation what D&D is all about? Heroes are faced with an impossible challenge. Death is certain. Yet they must confront it -- because they are heroes, G-ddammit! ROCK. ON.
On a (slightly) more serious note: isn't this kind of situation what D&D is all about? Heroes are faced with an impossible challenge. Death is certain. Yet they must confront it -- because they are heroes, G-ddammit! ROCK. ON.
KidCthulhu
First Post
See, now I don't see a TPK coming. At least not for the Liberators. I think they've just been shown the tunnel under the fortress. All the other shiney, happy people are going to kill themselves charging the front gate, but the Liberators are going aroun' back.
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