Tuesday, June 16, 1208 SA
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Beneath the town of St. Etienne, low on resources, with a few nauseated members unable to fight on the adventurers continue the fight against the Death Mantle cultists. The bodies of demonically transformed towns people litter the floor. The stench of the nauseating cloud still lingers on the group’s nostrils… Three swarms of wasps buzz down the hall way and start to sting Erebus, Kizzar and Connor. The bite are minor but annoying considering the toll of damage the group has accumulated over the last several minutes. There poison is week but potentially troublesome. Connor is briefly nauseated by the poison but shakes the effects off quickly. Connor, Kizzar and Erebus take the battle to the dripping flesh demon and the armored shadow. Kizzar is unable to break the grasp of the flesh demon and continues to get hammered by the demon’s massive arms. Lewana calls down a massive barrage of lightning that has no effect on the demonic host. Maksim calls to Inali, “Tell the woman that creatures from the Abyss are immune to electical attacks!” As he recovers from nausea, Castiel, dispatches the remaining transformed miners with a mind thrust and fling them back into the chamber at the end of the hallway. Tobiath returns with bow in hand and starts push a steady stream of arrows into the dripping flesh demon. Maksim fires some arcane missiles into the demons. After several moments of fighting the group destroys the two demons. Inali lends some healing magic. |
Three foot tall horned beast…
Fight three armored Death Mantle warriors…
Two priests hurling hammers of chaos…
The small horned beast attacks Inali from behind with poisoned claws.
One priest escapes as he disappears into the solid wall, the other is struck down when he surrenders..
The ground shakes, the party decides to leave, the ground shakes again, and again. Once outside the house the party sees a nightmarish scene. The town is inn flames, the very Aerth has opened up to consume many of the buildings in town and thick noxious smoke is all around.
After a brief debate, the group decides to abandon their horses and gear to retreat from the danger in town. As they are leaving the ground beneath their feet opens up with an explosion.
Leave town and head north to find the encampment of the Circus. They see a dozen or so people on the road ahead. The people are heavy laden and a few are pulling carts. The people begin to run away when the see the party behind them.
As the sun rises the group reaches the Circus and see that the camp has been ransacked. After a couple of hours of searching, very little useable goods are found. The group circles the wagons, tips them over and makes camp so they can take a much needed rest.
Wednesay, June 17, 1208 SA
Make way through the city and see that virtually ever building has been burned and more than half the city has fallen into a chasm below and reduced to rubble. The Morning Glory and the attached stable are one of those that is reduced to nothing more than a smoking crater filled with rubble and smoldering wood.
One the road toward Avignon.
Connor reads through the Book of Death’s Grace while camped and shares the contents with the group. Within the book is a thin slab of stone. Etched into the stone are the following words written a strange script. The eight pointed star of Chaos is in the center of the page below the writting.
Greatings Brokk,
By now you should have received the gifts that we and the Crimson Coil have sent to you. A band of fellow followers of Chardros should arrive at your stedding in due time. They will bring word of our preparations and assist with your assault on Marsielle. Feel free to sate your blood lust but wanton slaughter and destruction of the ignorant masses must hold off until the ritual is prepared.
I have also sent word to your brother to begin his march to hold the Valencian pass.
Your service to Chardros will bring you favor in his eyes and surely you will become onE of The Many if it is his will.
May all fall to ruin!
C’Thal
Thursday, June 18, 1208 SA
Into the hills and trek onward…
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Journal of Connor MacLaurin, Adventurer
June 16, 1208SA The battle continues
As I recovered from a debilitating poison attack, I heard the death scream of my companion Sirus. His valiant effort against the demon of flesh had not been successful. I felt sickened that I had been unable to provide assistance to support him. My weakness battling the poison had left his defenses open and the demon had eagerly feasted.
With a yell of frustration, I launched myself back into the fray.. stepping into the opening formerly occupied by Sirus. Kizzar had approached as well, grappled with the beast, and had himself been drawn into its deadly embrace. Castiel repositioned to flank the demon, as Erebus stepped beyond me and engaged a well armoured demon of shadows. We all continued to trade blows with the two demons, using the skills and weapons currently at our disposal. As I fought, I raged at fate for the pitiful excuse of tools I must fight with.. pale shadows of powerful weapons and impressive skills lost in our misguided trip through time.
As I rained a final flurry of blows down upon the flesh demon, I heard Erebus overcome the shadow demon. My attack put paid to the other, severing the flesh demon from its arcane life force. It splashed to the floor around us, a puddle of dripping ooze and flesh, our comrade Sirus consumed and nowhere to be found in the remains. Having liberated the hallway from our foes, we rushed forward to the temple to render justice upon the remainder of the unholy cultists and their priests.
We stepped to the doors, and were greeted by a scampering, mewling creature. It spouted phrases at us, surely meant to disarm our readiness, pronouncing “Come with me now, the Master is sated. Enough chaos has been enjoyed. Enter and fight no more!”. Glancing into the room we saw only 5 foes remaining, surely no match for our cohort. Obviously thinking the same, my brothers in battle Erebus, Castiel, and Kizzar stepped into the room. Castiel and Kizzar peeled to the left, engaging 3 figures in armour, knights of chaos or somesuch.
Erebus and I veered to the right, intent upon quickly reaching the foul altar and the two masked sorceror priests seeking defense behind it. Erebus and I reached the first priest, fighting it with sword and magick. We rained down power and vicious blows, whilst resisting its attacks. With Erebus on the verge of a coup de gras, the priest performed a final act of cowardice. Waving its hands and executing a last ditch defensive spell, its form melded with the solid stone at its back and it disappeared from view.
Knowing the fight was far from over, we moved to the opposite side of the dais upon which the altar was positioned. On the left, the last masked sorceror priest was delivering withering attacks upon our comrades in the middle of the room. Roan was continuing to give us hope and inspiration, drumming a tattoo and strengthening us all. The two newly met fellows from the tavern, Maksim and Tobiath, advanced into the battle as well.
Erebus reached the priest and began a furious assault upon it. I climbed the dais steps, was momentarily staggered by a trap, and gained an advantageous position to the preist’s side. In concert with my companion, I attacked again with a potent hybrid of steel and power. As we were about to dispatch the cultist, Kizzar tripped it. It shuffled helplessly on the ground a bit, then clasped its hands together in supplication and begged for mercy. “No mercy will you find here, you foul, orderless beast!” yelled Erebus, and having said so, he executed the criminal.
Foul and powerful energies began spewing forth from the lifeless body, wounding all in proximity to it. We quickly backed out of the reach of the random power, waiting for the discharge to subsume. With the battle over, we began to take note of our surroundings. We searched the room for any resources that might support or fund our trek to Egypt. Having collected various weaponry, Inali, Lewana, and myself took measure of the arcane powers invested in the weapons. We would save them, use the few that were practical, and sell the rest for coinage.
As we completed this task, we all felt a strong vibration course through the foundation of the temple complex. Fearing a potential collapse of the structure, we wasted no time beginning to evacuate. We made good progress, staggering a couple of times from the shaking walls and floor. Exiting the trap door and the house above it, we were witness to a shaft of flame shooting from the ground in the direction of St. Etienne.
Everyone was concerned about the supplies, wagon, horses, and treasure left behind at the Morning Glory tavern. A hurried decision to retrieve it all from the town, nearly 1/4 mile in the distance, was discarded almost as soon as we began running. The ground in front of us opened up to a hellish fire and blast, showering us with soot and rocks, damaging several of us as we dodged the debris. We changed direction, trying to avoid the explosions, watching as more and more of the town was engulfed in flame and disaster. We watched from a distance as rifts opened in the ground and swallowed whole buildings. Surely all of our supplies were destroyed by now.
Realizing that we were all battered, bloody, and exhausted we decided to attempt walking to the caravan camp where the Cirque had been parked. Upon arriving we found the carts, wagons, and gypsy tents. We wearily dragged the wagons into a defensive circle, then settled on an appropriate watch schedule so we could sleep. As we lay down on the ground, the morning Sun was emerging over the horizon. We awoke in late afternoon, having slept the sleep of the exhausted.
The fires seemed to have consumed a huge portion of the town, but we wished to verify the loss of our goods. We walked around the outer boundaries of St. Etienne and arrived at the location that had been the Morning Glory. Swallowed up by the ground, there was nothing but charred debris, a few planks, and splinters remaining of the Inn.
Knowing that time was marching on we begin the long march to our next goal, Avignon. There are some 465 miles to be traversed before reaching that reasonably sized town. So far, 2 days have passed uneventfully on the road and today is June 18, 1208SA. It is going to be a long walk to Marseille.
Now that we have read over the Book of Death’s Grace we now have names for some of the things we have encountered in St. Etienne –
The Death Mantle worship a thing known as Chardros the Reaper. According to the text it is ancient in origin.
The lone cultist sent to investigate as the cohort sacked the Constable’s quarters appears to have been invested with the gifts of ‘chaos alchemy’ intended to make him hardier and more resistant to damage. Other procedures exist and we should prepare ourselves to identify signs of such in battle with the Death Mantle so that we may press the disadvantages that come with these modifications.
Chaos cults appear to be active in many cities in France. Skulls mark many, and we’d assume this indicates a Death Mantle presence. A coiled snake marks the city of Marseilles. There is no further guidance on who or what this might represent.
The creatures we encountered in the under chambers of the Death Mantle cult are known as:
- Shadow Demon – This, this creature I bested myself with sword and shield. Upon being undone, it generates a blast that causes further damage. We should endeavor to find proof against these final attacks or we will not be able to dispatch these creatures an any significant numbers.
- Omox Demon – the flesh creature encountered at the Tavern and again in the under chambers of the cult is of this sort. The book cites resistance to weapons and some majicks.
- Quasit – A ram horned, pleading, whelp of a thing that we encountered in the under chamber. It carried word of one it called ‘Master’. It fled as we advanced and, with Night’s Blessings, delivered the message we intended to deliver – No mercy will be afforded the minions and spawn of Chaos. They will be undone and, if The Dark wills it – made to answer for their wonton disregard of the natural structure and order of things.
- Chaos Sorcerers – We learned that there is proof against the erratic flailing and waving of these misguided souls. Once acquainted with the bite of strong steel, both of these misguided souls realized they were bested. One fled through solid rock with aid of his majicks; the other plead mercy – and found none.
Knowing the deception of Chaos, perhaps the entire text is a ruse. What better way to weaken an enemy than to provide him with incorrect information that causes him to be unprepared at a later time?
The dogma outlined in the book is absurd. There are a select few that are able to see beyond the trappings of the present and see reality for what it really is – a prison, certainly, but not of laws of mortal creation – physical and mental laws of a selfish creator and his minions to store what amounts to living fuel. Laws exist and must be obeyed. They permeate the very fabric of creation and are proof against the desperate and uncoordinated rantings and flailings of Chaos. Chaos is not freedom. Chaos is an ultimate failing, an internal flaw that seeks to hold all options open because there is insufficient character to stand for something specific. True freedom comes not from embracing everything, but from subjugating base desires and promoting the sense of harmony that comes from a well ordered and structured environment.
More to the point, the laws of creation should be understood and mastered, not disregarded.
With Night’s Blessing I will deliver these messages to the members of the cohort. Some, perhaps, will see the worthiness of the words. They were great once and if the laws of the new prison have not claimed their reason, they should take up the banner with me to understand how this new place differs from the last – and to use that information to make war on our captors so that we man one day be truly free to live as we should.