A God...Rebuilt
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Night of the Alu Demons

February 05, 2012 14:00

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Such wonders I have seen. I have been given much to contemplate.

My Goddess has granted me a miracle, and has allowed me to witness another. I do not claim to understand the full significance of this, but as we descended the temple, there was a great earthquake, and the stairs rose up of their own accord. When the earth stopped trembling, the temple resembled exactly the one in Haven. Immediately, we were surrounded by a multitude of joyful beings, each marveling at the wonder they had seen, reveling in the love of the gods, and demanding to know who we were, and by what means we had brought these blessings upon them.

Throughout this quest, I have felt very strongly that we should mute our presence, for only in hiding one’s identity can one truly be known. This has not stopped certain members of our party from announcing our presence, and this occasion was no exception, for some of my companions loudly proclaimed who we were, and what we were about.

They created so much commotion that presently, we received a summons from the King. As we journeyed to the palace, we were confronted by what appeared to be a short, gaunt wolfen, but with slavering jaws and empty, glowing eyes. With a horrible voice, it greeted us in the name of Anubis, and bid us give up our quest. In Set’s name, it complimented me, and I felt as if a great, invisible hand passed through my soul. Immediately, I took up my axe, and made to strike this creature down, but it touched an amulet at its bosom and disappeared with something akin to alarm in its eyes.

When we met with the King, he greeted us in the name of Isis, saying She had visited him and had given him certain instructions to prepare for our arrival. He invited us to share a meal with him, and as we proceeded to the dining room, we discussed the events that had brought us to him. I told him about the creature that confronted us, and was compelled to share with him the sad history of my corruption at the hands of the wicked. To my surprise, he reacted with great fear at the mere mention of evil, genuflecting in a manner that reminded me greatly of the peasants of Williamshire attempting to ward off the evil eye.

Strange behavior for a king.

As we supped, the King presented the Dwarf with a sword. By the efforts of Gavin and Chip and, surprisingly, the Centaur’s lance, we soon learned that the sword was Avramson’s personal weapon, and with it he had wrought many mighty deeds upon the history of his land. Our discussion took on broader topics, and we began to ask about the nature of Karma’s lance, when a messenger presented himself to the King. With amusement, the Avramson bade us follow him to the roof, where he intended to introduce us to beings of particular eminence.

As we mounted the stairs, I took advantage of the opportunity to tell the King about my quest for Cyclopean lightning arrows, and to ask if Isis had left me any guidance. Hoping for a boon, I also asked if he had any, or knew where I could find some. Again he genuflected, to my astonishment, and told me that, while there were some few Cyclops living in the Algor Mountains here in the Wolfen Empire, he couldn’t really tell me much about them, and, in fact, Isis hadn’t mentioned the subject at all.

Why didn’t The Goddess tell him about my other quest? Why do I feel as if this quest rests solely on my shoulders? At least I’m making progress. Perhaps I can convince the group to go visit the Cyclops on our way back to retrieve the ship.

On the roof, we were met with a surprise: Avramson’s august visitors were none other than Greldarr’s aunt, High Snow, and her protector, Stone Mountain. Greldarr was clearly surprised and overjoyed to see his aunt, and they spent some few moments renewing their relationships.

Presently, talk turned to the creature, this Alu Demon, who confronted us as we left the temple. Much discussion was made over the fact that this demon serves one known as Charun the Cruel, who reigns in some place called Hades.

I have heard of demons, but I have never seen one before. It is said that their nature makes them vulnerable to holy objects. I wonder if this is true.

We wondered greatly why his minions were doing the will of Anubis, so much so that both Chip and King Avramson called for magic pigeons, and, following some moments of quiet discussion, sent inquiring missives to destinations unknown. Our conversation must have been very strenuous work, for immediately after the birds were released, words turned to alcohol, and what I have come to recognize as the obligatory drinking contest. To my surprise, King Avramson entered the fray.

Clearly, Isis also failed to mention Chip’s capacity for drink. I made an easy 100 gold that night by declining to partake of the others’ debauchery.

We left early the next morning, to the horror of those still feeling the effects of the night before. We traveled easily and without interruption, and after a couple days, we reached the city of Tolosonya, where we took rooms at the local inn.

That night, I awoke to what sounded like someone scratching at my door. I was reaching for my axe when I heard Rell scream.

Clearly, something evil was afoot.

I threw open my door, and was greeted by the slavering jaws of another Alu Demon. It lunged at me, but was quickly felled by Thor-ak’s might. Hearing more screams, I looked down the hall and saw more Alu Demons. I ran towards the nearest demon, brandishing my axe, but it disappeared before I could strike. It soon became clear that the demons had intended to ambush us all as we slept, but we captured two of them, and drove the rest off.

We split into two groups so we could interrogate them simultaneously.

I took our demon’s amulet first thing so it couldn’t get away from us, as Tyvernos and Rell each tried to convince the demon to answer our questions. Snarling its refusal, it began to struggle in an attempt to gain its freedom. When it was subdued, I handed my water skin to the priest, and asked him to bless the contents, which I then poured on the demon’s foot.

The results were dramatic, and more than a little disgusting.

The demon immediately signaled its desire to answer whatever questions we put to it.

I asked what business its master had with Anubis, which it didn’t know.

I asked how they had found us. It replied that they were excellent trackers.

I asked how we could prevent them from tracking us, and it again became belligerent, and refused to answer.

It became so violent that Greldarr killed it before I had the chance to ask it about its amulet. If this amulet does what I think it does, it will figure large in my plans for the future.

Taking care not to touch the amulet itself, I began to examine my prize. It was a metallic, golden-hued, inverted ankh, suspended from a length of cord. I had seen demons touch it just before they disappeared, which suggested it was enchanted by some means to take its wearer from place to place. But where did it go? Could it take one anywhere one wanted to go? And how many times? Could Dark Magics be used to follow it from hither to yon?

Unfortunately, I had already reached the limits of my knowledge of magics, and abilities to perceive arcane secrets.

I asked the others for help determining my amulet’s properties. They told me that it teleports its wearer to Çynopolis, where Anubis sits in judgement of the Dead, and it can’t be traced.

Better and better.

I followed Gavin to his room, to ask him about those who had used it before. I needed to know more about it, and thought perhaps the actions of its former master could give me more insight into its properties.

To my horror, Gavin reached out and touched the amulet, and disappeared.

The amulet remained, but Gavin had gone, presumably to Çynopolis.

I ran and gathered the others, so we could formulate a plan for his rescue. To my astonishment, everyone began arguing.

I should have known that this group was incapable of making a quick decision.

Chip announced he would go alone, because he had a plan that just might work.

Tyvernos insisted that we give him up for dead. There was no point in us putting ourselves in harm’s way on Gavin’s account.

Rell also insisted that Gavin had to be dead by now, but said that if anyone went, we should all go. Regardless, Gavin was dead, and we should mourn his loss and go on our merry way.

Angry and disgusted, I knew that I couldn’t leave Gavin to a fate unknown. It was my fault he was in trouble, and I was going to face it with him regardless of the consequences. I held Thor-ak out to the Geldarr, and asked him to bless it. As I did so, Rell made a wild grab for my amulet. I swung my arm away from him, and towards Chip, who saw his opportunity, and took it.

Both Chip and my amulet disappeared.

White-hot fury filled my brain. My grip tightened around my axe; in my mind’s eye, I saw myself beating Rell senseless with the flat of Thor-ak’s blade.

Quickly, I spun away from the little two-faced bastard before I delivered to him the beating he so richly deserved. Tyvernos had proven himself to be untrustworthy from the start, but Rell’s betrayal was inexcusable. He had fought with us, drank with us, bled with us. We were a family. At least, I thought we were.

If he has so little love for us, his brothers-in-arms; so little compassion for those in dire need…

My shoulders started to itch, and as I moved to scratch them, my gaze fell on Tyvernos.

I spat at his feet just as a dwarf, wearing an amulet just like the one Chip stole from me, suddenly appeared in the room. Quickly, I moved to help tie him up, in a bid to reach his amulet, but Rell’s hand came in out of nowhere, and snatched it up.

So much for all of us going together. Now three of us were gone, and those bastards didn’t leave a way for the rest of us to follow.

Unless…

I had killed one of those demons. Its amulet was still in place!

As I turned on my heel and strode for the door, there was a sudden commotion behind me.

I turned, and saw Chip, Gavin, and Rell lying on the floor, having landed on top of our dwarf prisoner, whose eyes were bugging out in a manner that might have struck me as comical, if it weren’t for the sourness of my present disposition.

I moved toward Chip, hoping to reclaim my amulet, but it melted away into nothingness.

Dammit! I needed that!

I looked at Rell, but his had gone as well.

Immediately, I sought out the body of the demon I killed earlier, that I might claim its amulet, but my hopes were in vain.

Thinking dark thoughts, and muttering dark words, I walked back to my room.

Posted by Cava on the 9th day of Thoth, in the 340th year of the Dominion.

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Rell's Penance

For I have sinned

February 05, 2012 12:00
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From the Journal of Rell, written using Eastern Phonemes and Fairyspeak words.

It feels as though I have been reborn into a life that I never thought I had lost.

It is my wont to spend the time that I take each evening to record the events of the day past, but not this day, and I am unsure if I can ever again simply record events without sitting and thinking about my actions in them.

Was that the cause for the dream that I so recently escaped from? Nightmare is closer to the mark,

I know not if my lady sent me this dream, I only know that it feels a true dream. Or is it a vision.

I will let each of you, my potential readers, decide this for yourselves. Ok, so, maybe I’ll not start right this moment, but begin with an observation. Have you ever noticed that dreams simply seem to make sense? No matter how strange they become, or how many cats seem to be walking around in your best breeches and eating your cheese, you accept it as reality.

There were no cats in breeches in my dream.

There was, however, an open expanse upon which were written the details of my life. Some things that were written fairly glowed with life and happiness. Some things, however, were darker than the pit that Anubis uses in place of a heart.

The further I traveled in this expanse, the more of these dark places there were until there was nothing but darkness.

In the midst of the darkness, a voice called out to me. It was a voice of thunder and pain. It told me how happy it was that I’d finally joined it in this darkness, and how alone it had been waiting for me here.

I recognized the voice as my own.

This did not end my dream, much as I would have liked it to.

I was next walking the streets of a city that I’d never before seen, but accepted as being Haven. I watched as the darkness with which I had infected my soul consumed that city. It was my darkness, of this I have no doubt. It consumed every person in that city one by one, and street by street until the only thing left in that city was the temple guarding Osiris’ Heart. Then even it was engulfed, and even that pure light was snuffed out.

Then places and peoples were one by one taken over and consumed by that darkness.

My heart rebelled at this. How could a being as insignificant as I cause this much destruction? I did not have the power to cause this. I do not have the power.

And then I saw it. A book. A book with the writings of CrIsis in it. A book that even now I continue to create more text for. And I saw the effect that my writings and attitude would have upon the people who read if I gave myself over to the powers that would destroy everything that I hoped to build.

But I realized there were light places in my soul as well, and I asked Apis, for I felt her guiding hand in all of this, what would happen if I tapped into those feelings in my writings.

I saw a different world, or maybe just the one where we live. I saw people gain hope in their lives as not only my own writings, but all of the writings of CrIsis, touched the parts of them that most matched the members of CrIsis that they resembled.

There was still injustice, but in every city in the land there glowed beacons of hope.

I did not hear anything from my goddess, but I did feel reproof at my behavior. I have argued, and insulted. I have looked down upon my fellow travelers.

I have failed in the task that Apis herself gave me in joining this party.

I was supposed to be a source of calm insight and reconciliation, and I was a source of contention.

In this I apologize to my fellows, and vow here and now that I shall again follow the path that Apis chose for me in the midst of this rabble I like to think of as my friends.

Posted by Rell at dawn on the 9th of Thoth.

Picture from The Quillcards Blog


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Village of Fire

Night of Hymn

February 05, 2012 11:00

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My dear Overkill,

The knight has decided to leave us. I failed to mention in my last letter that there seems to be a ruckus in Timiro and that is why the pilgrims were heading north; war is on the rise. The large slave revolt has caused men and women to take up arms to silence them. The pilgrims that I was with didn’t want to participate and headed north with Father Jacob.

I have digressed from what I wanted to tell you. Shortly before the knight left she took me aside and while I was dressing her wound she told me the saddest story of her husband and how his brother killed him. I felt obliged to share your encounter and how you were resurrected. The story lightened her spirits, so it seemed, as I told her of my gratitude for Isis. She is as sweet as a sister (if I ever had one). As you know I had all brothers (four of them). I certainly would like to meet your sisters.

At any rate, we laughed and cried that night and when she was about to leave she held me in an embrace and told me that I certainly was special and that there was a place for me in her future. When I asked if we would see each other again, she told me that perhaps there would be a time, in the meantime that I should practice my fighting style with the weapon you bought me. She speaks in riddles a lot but I cannot help but like her.

My fighting style has improved a lot. I recall all the training that you, Rell and Cava taught me. Speaking of which, my enmity for Cava has not been cooled. Watch your back about that guy. There is something not right with him; like a hidden evil.

The river was smooth. I left the pilgrims only to group up with some river merchants. They say that they are going to head up the river towards Llorn. Our captain is an ogre called Saul. I can relate to him as he too is a missing eye and a broken tusk. At night he plays a stringed instrument to calm his nerves; most of the time its sad songs of love lost. The crickets chirp and the lantern light hangs on the front of his ship at night. His watchmen are a pair of gnomes named Seaux aka. Sauce and Graviux aka. Gravy, two of the strangest westerners I have ever met. They are generally very funny (especially with those weird accents) except when they talk about their war torn home of the Empire of Sin.

Recently we came near my old village. I asked Saul if he would take a small pit stop to resupply. He obliged me and we headed inland to pay a visit to my papa. After a full days travel I came to what I thought would be my village. The village was burned to the ground and the people killed via crucifixion. So many people were tortured to death, their bodies brutally mangled. I am sorry but the image was horrible and I cannot write too much without thinking about the vision of my family hanging from trees, nailed. Saul ordered his crew to cut them all down and bury them. I personally buried my father and four brothers. We never found my mothers body. Either she got away or was killed in the woods.

I recalled father’s old hiding place before we left and when I investigated, I found my fathers Dwarven forged axe and family seal. It means nothing to me now but when I did have a clan, it meant the world but now I keep it as a trinket. The axe is somewhat larger then the cleaver that you bought me but I aim to practice with it to better my skill. There is a prick of pain behind my missing eye like a phantom pain, a need for revenge but I know that I will never find the ones that did this but your love gives me comfort that they didn’t get all my family.

When we got back to the boat Saul attempted to brighten my spirits by playing some hymns that talked about heaven and the after life of the dwarves. Some of the hymns I recognized from my childhood. My father had a good voice and would sing them as he worked in the woods collecting firewood. They talked about the hunting grounds and drinking halls that awaited us in the next life. I wondered just what kind of guy I had grouped up with. Saul has a lot of mystery to him and has changed my view of the ogre kind.

As we were sailing one of the gnomes made mention that there was some Dwarven writing on a wall in blood but because he could not read it, he wrote it down and asked if I would read it to him. Taking the parchment from him I began to read the warning. Anubis will kill all who love CrIsis. The old god must have known that I was going home one day and after torturing the clan, killed them when they didn’t know when I was to return. How did they find out where I was from? The gnome gave me a confused look. He was certain that I had read it wrong. Anubis loves death and chaos, why would he kill all who loved crisis? I didn’t felt safe to tell him of CrIsis. I am worried that your fame is going to be going to continue to enrage the dog head god. Death is following your success.

Please hurry.

Be safe.

Martyr Okey

Posted by Mary on the 22nd of Selestra, in the 22nd year of King Bafag.


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Rise of Signs

Race for Osiris

February 05, 2012 10:00

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Minischmee,

Times are changing and I fear that our enemy is getting closer. After the meeting in the temple we exited. It would have seemed an almost invisible event except that the ground rose creating new steps to the temple. Everyone was excited and people came running, elves, wolfen, dwarves etc. They came out of their homes and shops shouting praises and wanting to know why this miracle happened. They attributed the events to us coming out and naturally were drawn to us. At first I was a bit tense, being relatively shorter, but then we (my gnome companion and I) were encouraged to climb on the centaur’s back (with assistance).

Dozens of people swarmed us each with their own question; about our attire, land of origin, purpose for being at the temple, etc. We each answered the questions calling out the answers as loud as we could and I mentioned we were CrIsis on a mission to assemble the god Osiris. I admit it was just being caught in the rush of answering questions, I didn’t expect that there would be a hush. Perhaps it was from the approaching knave that had a message from the king or it was from the mention of our famed name.

I am not sure. He gave the kings invitation for dinner and then left. I would of thought nothing of the invitation but it was when we were following the knave that we were approached by a Demon. He looked like, forgive me Priest, but a wolfen but shorter and uglier, much uglier. He hiss and snarled his threat and before I could draw Striker he was gone. At that point we made haste to be at the kings abode.

After freshening up and changing clothes we met with the king. At dinner I was presented with a sword. I found it a bit odd to have a gift from such a gracious king. Our resident psychic and mage did their best to decipher what it was and where it was from but got really ghost images of a long past and no real idea of where it was from only it was good. Dinner was good, fresh fish as I recall. We thanked him for the dinner and gift and the following morning were on our way to Tolosonya. I never took the Dwarven sword or the new gift to a mage or alchemist to find out what it was truly. Perhaps I should reserve it for a chance to be discovered later. That of course didn’t keep me from using the weapon.

In this somewhat smaller town (but just as busy) we had settled down for the night when we were visited by more demons. They got the jump on me as they cut deep into my shoulder. I grabbed the new sword and striker and hit back with all my strength. Once I got him he hit an amulet and disappeared. From the other rooms I could hear the screams of war some were in pain and others are attacking. I stumbled out into the hall holding my shoulder and keeping the new sword in hand (just in case). Nothing. The halls were empty slowly filling with my companions. I am glad that Mary wasn’t here. The mage healed some of it while we talked about it. Turns out that it was the same kind of demon that we had discussed previously, a demon called an Alu (nasty little furballs; well tall for me). These cretins serve the demon lord Charun. Why he and Anubis are working together to get us is beyond me. The new sword is handy though. Need to really look into that.

My night would of been ok except that we had killed two of the demons that attacked (there was a total of six). Their amulets were still available to us and we were too tired to take precaution and one of us (Gavin) touched it attempting to decipher it and ‘poof’ they were gone. We weighed on the matter. For the first time the team was divided. It was late and tempters were on edge and for an hour we debated when suddenly Chip dived for the charm and he disappeared.

Now two were gone. I honestly thought that our mission over. I heard the story of what went on on the other side but it doesn’t compare to what probably happened. Chip had done what he promised and returned our strange child in a matter of minutes. Should of listened to him when he first started talking an hour ago. It was just the anxiety and fear of death that shook us to the core and the fear of failing Isis (and perhaps the other Gods of Light). I really just didn’t want to let the Gods or the team down.

Silly me the Gods are with us.

Overkill

Posted by Overkill on the 8th of Thoth, in the 22nd year of King Bafag.

Picture courtesy of Pimp my Space.


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Bathing in Bennude?

February 05, 2012 09:00

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Father,

I, Tyvernos, son of Oren, and Herald of all that is Oriflamme have answered to two higher powers for many moons now. What, pray-tell, is the price of my power? I have called you “father” for the span of my years though I’ve never truly known you. I am privy to immeasurable insight only now. We are servants of the same master. The elemental forces of Air demand our worship and we give of ourselves as freely as any. I am more your son, now, than ever before with the skies at my beck’ and call, with the wind at my fingertips, and playing Pawn in a Godly Game of Thrones.

Orts and bits and morsels of your passage are but breadcrumbs to my mundivagant crow’s belly; High Snow sends her warmest regards. I will return home, one day, to convey them to you in-person.

These are strange days. I have witnessed my fair share of miracles and now I am more convinced than ever before that Otto conspires against me; he is possessed of some very strange notions — not the least of which was conferred in confidence with the winds themselves. I beseech Bennu on a near-nightly basis for guidance…for deliverance. She answers only the hound but with the same appalling, eye-opening conclusion: Our steps and missteps are only partially guided by the Gods of Light; they are, in part, also guided by the forces of Darkness. Their involvement, now more blatant than ever, is directly confrontational. The evidence of an alliance is impossible to ignore. We were given directive — a divinely inspired task more noble than any other — and given the freedom to pursue those ends in the name of holy nobility. Anubis, it seems, is not without allies in his efforts to stymie our crusade.

When you receive this I will have left the Pyramid of Avramstown far behind. An earthquake so vast and wide that you probably felt the tremors in our ancestral home has elevated the pyramid and extended the approaching steps like some stairway to heaven. I felt the earth move under my feet. I felt the sky tumbling down. I felt my heart start to trembling. Were I an Earth Warlock the miracle might have been more than merely orgasmic. We were accosted by throngs of onlookers and spectators — arms akimbo — and frothing with febrile, orgiastic frenzy. The horsewoman bade me mount her (the second such occasion) and escape the trampling tangle of limbs. I paraded, as I am wont to do, on her catwalk and displayed Providence and Provenance for all to see. Obliged and benighted in Bennude. Collapsed, spent, I flung myself to the ground, swathed in sheets of creamy white and gold-embossed with divine exhaustion.

I soon graced King Avramson with my presence but not before an Alu Demon presented itself and implicated Charun the Cruel in Anubis’s plans. This demon lord is subversive and we must proceed with caution. The denizens of the abyss play by different rules and will attempt to win at any cost. This is an ominous portent and does not bode well.

A blade appeared from out of nowhere — it isn’t even remotely as powerful as we eventually determined Karma’s lance to be; what a pleasant surprise! An ancient semi-sentient artifact older than the Elf-Dwarf wars hiding in our midst. What luck! I understand she won it in a raffle. Greldarr’s Aunt, the above mentioned High Snow, welcomed us and the King showered us with fine faire and much merriment was had by all. I lost one-hundred gold in a wager placed on a carousing contest. Otto was the only true winner of the competition! Before the day was out we walked away fifteen hundred Wolfen richer and less one magnum of fine fruit of the vine.

A night spent at the inn was replete with an Alu demon incursion where Otto intervened on my behalf, an axe verily teleported into an oncoming attacker, and our friends disappeared before our very eyes. The Demon Inquisition ensues and those of weaker-stomach must leave the room. The dogs seemed nice enough. Perhaps they were merely misunderstood.

Gavin disappears
Chip disappears.
Dwarf appears.
Chip and Gavin appear.

What the f*#k?

All my love,

Ty
Posted on the 8th of Thoth, in the 67th year of the Empire.


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Where the Wind Blows?

January 08, 2012 14:00

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I, Tyvernos, Oracle of Oriflamme and Diminutive Master of the Gods’ own Breaths — be they fair-smelling or foul — Commander of Blustery Gusts and the Heavens’ Hegemony — lay upon this page an accounting of my most recent foray into the upper echelons of social strata. A fortnight ago it was my distinct pleasure to make the acquaintance of a motley menagerie of merry men; they were disguised as a traveling troupe of troubadours. Bennu, it seems, is not without a sense of humor.

I sat astride my mighty charger, Otto von Bismarck, in a tavern of ill-repute when the shaggy stallion steered me from my milk and into the udder of a four-legged woman — diplomatic envoy to the entourage. Grudgingly, I obliged a cantankerous Bismarck and mounted my own slight-offensive. Two can play at that game! Doubting my credentials and the ignominious nature of my introduction and subsequent appearance wink the group’s de facto spokesman bade me produce my divinely inspired finger band. Alas, with one hand decidedly occupied my choice-digits remained by their siblings’ sides. The veracity of my claim upheld I was promptly welcomed into the fold — but not before an eavesdroppin’, eye-ogling, nosy proprietor laid his peepers on my prized possession.

Set’s area of influence is vast within the Wolfen Empire and this dog’s interest was piqued by the bone that had just wandered into his tavern on the back of a fluffy-furred, slobber-mawed, drool-jowled war-steed. While I’m never one to turn my nose upward at an audience the consensus “discretion is the better part of valor” easily surfaced. It was, perhaps, the only time on the evening that a consensus could be reached unanimously and without lid-leadening deliberation.

On that note…

It is a little-known phenomenon of the diminutive stature that we of vertical-challenge require exaggerated amounts of rest and relaxation and even pampering to achieve the incredible energy levels and seemingly endless reserves with which we meet the rigorous demands of adventuring. To those ignorant and unaccustomed the amount of napping and snacking I must endure is decidedly disproportionate and inordinately inversely proportional. If they only knew how exhausting it is to ride the lightning.

Which brings me to my next entry…

Some days later, after enlisting the aid of my new friend Oric Bellode (curious name for a Dwarf, no?) the menagerie made its way overland through the Dwarf’s namesake mountain pass to Avramstown only to collide with a family of humanoids. They were the hairiest savages I had ever lain eyes upon and felt, at first, to pity them and afford them charity and welcome. My overtures, however, fell on deaf ears and the barbarous brutes advanced on poor Otto. I produced a fistful of lightning and hurled snowball-sized, energized projectiles like David meeting his shaggy Goliath — and its family of gorillas — on the field of battle. My prowess, unequaled, eventually drove the humans back to their wilderness home. Otto had taken fright and wrangled the business-end of a crude weapon with his matted fur. Brave and noble war-steed, that one!

Later, when we finally stopped for the night, I took my leave of the group, tromped off with a new friend where we took our reprieve from the day’s strenuous exertions cuddled together. Odd custom to sleep in pairs but I can understand the need for warmth and the sharing of body heat in the frigid mountain pass. We would cuddle for what felt an eternity though I cannot be unerringly sure of how much time passed. I regained some of my mystical energy reserves but felt worn and bone-weary. Our restful slumber was rudely awoken by someone’s screaming! Upon opening my eyes I was treated to the full majesty of Father Winter! The cries of joy arose from all about the camp! Everyone was so excited! Wait. Were those nondescript cries for help? The companions were unable to see Father Winter clearly in the pitch-darkness; he looked terribly happy to see our merry troupe; I can only guess that he and his workshop workers were very lonely up here in the mountainous reaches of the North. My charitable contribution — in the name of such a holiday — was to bathed the entire area in True Sunlight and enlighten my comrades. It was the least I could do. I would that they shared the splendor and majesty of this mythical figure and his unabashed distribution of joyness and wonderment. Much mirth and merriment was had by all. He and his workers departed hastily to bring goodies to other boys and girls but, silly Father Winter absentmindedly left his limb in our custody. Silently, I vowed to return the appendage to its rightful owner…someday. Otto bowed in obeisance.

Humbly, I admit that I took my leave of my faculties for the next span. The temple and pyramid left their impression on the insides of my eyelids. I am considering my acceptance speech for the “MVG” award but it is my most earnest wish and ardent desire to appear completely surprised when it is finally bestowed.

Bennu, this I ask in your name,

Your diminutive savant…er, servant,

Ty
Posted on the 5th of Thoth, in the 67th year of the Empire.

Picture courtesy of The Golden Compass.


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Pilgrims of the South

Mary's Voyage

January 08, 2012 12:00

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Overkill,

It has been a month since you left us in Credia. I wish that you could hear the adventures that I have had here with Bishop Tutu.

After we made preparations for our travels, the kind man asked me to change my name. The name of Mary was not going to be safe and since it was my birth name I obliged him by doing so. I am certain that you would be proud Merd as my name is now Martyr Okey of the Redbeard Clan (I figured that most humans didn’t follow the clans and would not recognize the distance of the families). I thought that since I am your betrothed and not a member of your elite club that you would be honored. I also wanted to speak of the pain that the gods created because they did not choose me at the same time. I hope that you are well. I know that it is the will of Isis that this is the path that we are to take in our lives.

When you left I was baptized a member of the Church of Light by Bishop Tutu. It feels a bit odd parting from the faith of my clan and I hope that you are patient with me learning all the rites and rituals of this new-found faith. Isis has been kind and I do not know of any other way of repaying her for what she has done for you and I so I joined the church.

I know that you are safe so I will keep the light parts of my travails to myself. When we had sufficiently packed we joined a pilgrimage heading north ran by an eager priest named Jacob of Barbera, a small farming village outside of Old Timiro barely worth noting (so he says). The man er.. elf says that he studied under the kind Bishop who taught him all the ways of light and truth. We were in a party of about sixty. I had changed my clothes from what I had worn on the Matilda to be more plain and less recognizable. After three days of a prayer of safety we headed off.

The trip was easy at first as most of the pilgrims had wagons and the roads were paved. Our goal was to head up Ogres Pass without incident as the gods were with us. Jacobs prayer paid off as there was little incident save a few cuts and bruises by the little ones who were not accustomed to the hardship of walking so far. We cover about twenty-five to thirty miles every day, almost as if our path were guided. It has taken nearly the entire month but we made it through to the pass heading toward a town called Arain near the Old Kingdom River.

One of our guides that Jacob encountered by blessing (I guess) is a knight that calls herself Katrina Sun. She has said that she has a purpose in being part of the pilgrimage but refuses to talk to Jacob or anyone else about it. She seems friendly but aloof. I suspect that it is because of her knightly training and that she is keeping an eye out for trouble. At times during our journey she has raced ahead during the night and valiantly fought to insure our safety. After one such encounter she returned to tell us that we had to quicken our pace and that some of the enemy had a rune sword and intended to feed it on our souls. The proof on her arm was more than I could bare. She had a gash from the sword (or blade) that was deep and was bleeding a lot. I looked to the Jacob and could not understand when he said that the knight would be alright and that I would have to have faith that Katrina would heal in due time.

Though the blessed pries is keeping secrets I pray to Isis that Katrina’s wound heals and we can keep ahead of the horde. I have made an effort to be near her while she heals but despite my efforts to keep her still she insists on protecting the pilgrims. She has told me that I will never know the full extent of how important my mission is and that I must obey every request she she makes. She has soft eyes, a warm voice and a nice smile, so I could not resist. Everyday for the past few days I have nursed her wound. It is real deep and I am afraid that it will never heal.

Please pray for our guide.

Martyr Okey

Posted by Mary on the 9th of Selestra, in the 22nd year of King Bafag.

Picture courtesy of Lord of the Rings.


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Flee from the Father

January 08, 2012 11:00
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From the darkest shadows, He came, calling my name: “Hail, Wahdh Farghh, The Empty One: Child of Dark, Son of Set and Destroyer of Light!”

He reaches into his cloak, and produces an axe.

My axe.

“I bring thee tidings from thy True Father,” He exults, “The beginning of the End of Light approacheth. I therefore deliver unto thee Thor-ak, Hewer of Light and Consumer of Souls, to aid thee in thy Task. Rejoice, for soon will thy Father join thee. Now begin thy Father’s work, for in thy hands lies the remaking of the world.”

Silently, I creep down the corridor, and push open the first door I come to.

The body within breathes deeply, and shifts on its bunk.

I pause, cherishing the moment. My breath echos in the stillness, my scars ache in time to the dull thud of my heart. Dark joy floods my soul as I raise Thor-ak.

Tonight, there will be blood.

Struggling against the darkness that grasps me from within, as well as without, I wake. Gasping for air, I strike a candle, chasing the darkness away. The light gleams off of my arm, and with relief I see that my arms are slick with sweat. Shaking, I fumble for the water flask on my bedside table and drained its contents in one draught.

There is a Dark Presence searching for me, tracking me in ways I can’t comprehend, through worlds beyond my imagination. Somehow He uses these dreams to try to draw Himself to me through my scars, but while they betray me to Him, they also betray Him to me. My scars haven’t wept dark, red tears since my exorcism at Enry, but I know they will again, for He is getting closer.

Falling to my knees, I cry out to my Goddess, but She remains silent.


The next morning, we arrived at Seaholm. I have lived among wolfen before, but this is the first time I’ve been to the Wolfen Empire. I don’t know why, but I don’t like it here. A shadow at the back of my mind sings a warning: I’m not safe here.

We went to a tavern on the recommendation of the harbormaster, and were joined at the bar by a fat, dandified gnome astride a Saint Bernard who claims to have been sent by a Goddess of Light. I didn’t catch which one because I noticed the taproom was full of worshipers of Set. I knew they were too busy carousing to notice us or care who we are, but it was still an unwelcome surprise.

I feel as though a great weight has been dropped on my shoulders. I had forgotten that the worship of Set is so widespread amongst the wolfen. Being right under Set’s nose like this makes my scars itch.

I want out of here.

Now.

Back on the ship, I attempted to find some some seclusion, to try to come to grips with my situation, but Rell followed me everywhere, and just wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally, I had to climb to the crow’s nest and cut the rope behind me to get some peace and quiet.

I improvised a sling out of some spare leather, and pulled some small rocks out of a pouch on my belt and started flinging them out into the harbor as hard as I can. One of them hit a nearby ship and caused a ruckus amongst her crew, so I decided that I had better cool it for a while. Frustrated, I muttered a prayer to Isis asking for Her protection, and suddenly I knew that I need to find something.

Cyclopean lightning arrows. I’m going to need lightning arrows.

Full of renewed purpose, I descend from my lofty perch to discover that the Gnome knows a local merchant, and the group intends to hire him to guide us to Avramstown.

Surely Isis is with me.

I attempted to bargain with the Gnome’s merchant friend, a tall dwarf calling himself Oric Bellode, but he claimed not to have any. I tried to ingratiate myself to him by offering to sell him some of the arrows Nath made for me, but other than admiring their quality, he remained unmoved. Crestfallen, I bought some regular arrows from him because I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Clearly, this will take longer than a simple trip to the market. I will find these arrows for Isis even if I have to walk all the way to the Western Empire to get them.

As we prepared to depart for Avramstown, I was approached by a longbowman called Fred who “couldn’t help but notice I carried a longbow of some quality,” and “wondered” if I would care to test myself against him in a trial of skill. “If nothing else,” he said, “’twould liven the journey,” but the intensity of his gaze gives the lie to his words.

Apparently, one of Oric’s men considers himself to be an archer of rare skill.

After a few hours’ travel through the cold and wet, we were set upon by a band of bearmen who sought to disable our wagons. One charged out of the trees and straight into the blade of my axe, to his chagrin. Their attack was quickly repulsed, and I helped Oric’s men repair the damage to the wagons.

I am reluctant to hold my axe, much less use it, but with the forest close on each side of the road, and our wagon towards the end of the convoy, my bow was nearly useless. Close-quarters fighting was much more likely. To my relief, my axe is not acting the part of a Dark weapon.

During the midday meal, Fred caught my eye and pantomimed drawing a bow. I nodded my assent, which the camp must have been waiting for as a target was produced, and wagers made, with a speed that spoke of long practice.

I guess Fred’s bow has made money for Oric’s crew in the past.

Fred is skilled, but his technique is flawed, and it isn’t for nothing that I studied bowmanship under the great Nath Everall himself. The contest was short, and the conclusion foregone. To the disappointment of Oric’s crew, Fred surrendered my winnings, and I presented him with one of Nath’s arrows as a memento of our encounter.

The rest of the day passed smoothly, but the stillness of night was broken when a group of frost giants paid us an unfriendly visit. The fighting was hot and thirsty work, but longer in the telling than in the doing. The giants menaced us with their size, their massive swords, and their icy, wintery-fresh breath, but Gavin stopped three of them with one of his famous shield-things, Chip somehow immobilized the arm of one of the two still attacking, and Rell hacked an arm off the other, and the giants were quickly demoralized.

The following day was nearly uneventful: at midday, Rell challenged me to a contest of skill, his axes against my bow. In truth, Rell is a more skilled player than Fred was, but I am Cava, and my bow is Inas. The contest was close, but never in doubt. Have these past few months in my company taught him nothing about my skill?

Finally, we arrived in Avramstown. To my surprise, the merchant Oric paid us all for “services rendered” during the trip. I was not aware that I had been hired to chaperone a wagon team through the mountains.

We made for the Temple to drop off the Tongue of Osiris.

In the temple, Ramen bade us perform the ritual washing, just like the last time. And just like last time, I reluctantly stripped off my armor and displayed my scars, the physical manifestation of my shame and disgrace, for all to see, and entered the water.



My Goddess! She has healed me!



Posted by Cava on the 5th of Thoth, in the 340th year of the Dominion.

Picture by charred


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Softer Side of a Dwarf

There is Something in my Eye

January 08, 2012 09:00

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Minischmee,

I am so glad that we got to Seaholm (home of the Seahawk tribe and yes, I know some of the tribes, just not all of them. No, I had to ask when I got there who they were-frankly my geography sucks, and as to who controls what outside of the Ursa Rex and Snow Grass I still don’t know). The pirates have made the trip getting there worthy of going to land. Don’t ask, I already told you the story.

After we docked port we spent some time looking for a man with a horse (don’t laugh) as the Priest was a bit uncomfortable being without one (never mind that we have one already and a pony). I am certain that we could of hooked up the Centaur to something but that is a bit low. There we picked up yet another member of CrIsis, a gnome by the name of Tyvernos. He seemed friendly enough. I have got used to seeing the group grow and change. The Gods of Light have no qualms about who they choose for this mission and this gnome is a clear example of that.

When we got to the city and settled in at the pub it seems that the followers of Set and his cronies are becoming more and more open with their religion. The bartender was an open follower so we went to a second only to find two more followers. I guess that we are just going to have to get used to seeing them. I tell you ever since me, Rell and Mary encountered the guy that was following us in Credia, I have become more and more edgy about wandering eyes and have been more eager to poke out a few and if I had not sworn to be good there would be a few toothless and eyeless people.

We hooked up with a traveling party of merchants lead by an dwarf named Oric who were going to Avramstown, a city northwest of Seaholm and controlled by yet another tribe, the January Magic (Shut up, I am trying to educate you). Thank goodness there is not customs as harsh as Bizantium with all those holier-then-thou yahoos with their heads up their hind end. (Perhaps I will talk to Oric later about citizenship.)

Now this trip was supposed to be short with little incident save a wild animal or two. Nope! First our party gets attacked by Bearmen and they out numbered us at least two to one but that would not compare to the attack that followed. Almost a half dozen frost giants attempted to stop our trip later that night and almost were successful. While we were sleeping at night between the merchants and us we had divided the night into shifts and it was during one of them that Frost Giants decided to come out of the mountain pass and race down toward our party. The fire barely out, those that were on watch did not see what was coming as they have limited sight (in other words they were blind as a bat). The screams were enough to wake me and the rest of the party and when my eyes finally adjusted that’s when I saw the behemoths. I almost soiled my armor. They were huge! I have not seen things the size of trees with the speed of horses come at me.

After composing myself I loaded my crossbow and wouldn’t you know it between the other actions of the team I didn’t get to fire one shot. One fellow used his psionics to divide the barrage by creating a invisible shield (something we are all very familiar with; thank you Gavin). While the divided team was attempting to break the shield the second half were still coming. The centaur went to work and raced up the hill with the wolfen hot on her heels (hooves?). The new guy used his warlock powers to push one of the creatures back, but the thing that ended the battle was when Rell used his twin blades and cut off the arm of one of the combatants.

Suddenly the battle turned around. All the assailants surrendered begging for their lives. Normally I would have called for the death for these giants but something inside said that mercy was the better path to follow. I have really gone soft.

The rest of the trip was smooth. Thank Thoth.

When we got there there was a montage of races that would match what goes on in the Great Library with peace to match. We made no stops or hesitancy and made our way to the Great Pyramid. We knew the process, the names per step and the bathing but what we didn’t see was that when we were greeted, we beheld Isis. She took the item that we had (the tongue) and placed it in a place similar to the heart with the blue fire and all. I don’t know if I even spoke. She told us that the mission was getting harder and that the Gods of Light were getting involved now doing what ever they could to keep our assailants from finding us let alone destroying us. When she told us I could only dread in fear for Mary in Northolme, friends on the Red Beard and my family in Bizantium. I was certain that the Death God would get to them to get to me. I, in that moment, desperately wished that I had no past, no one to love, no friends or family. Isis read my expression (or mind; I am not sure). She actually cried for me a mortal and what I was worried about. I should of been nothing and the mission, everything but she had compassion for me. I have been touched, moved really. I will never be the same.

Stay safe. I worry about you and the crew. (Yea you, you ass.)

Overkill

Posted by Overkill on the 5th of Thoth, in the 22nd year of King Bafag.

Picture courtesy of Nate Barnes.


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How Rell Recovered

Finally, Dry Feet.

January 05, 2012 16:00
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From the Journal of Rell, written using Eastern Phonemes and Fairyspeak words.

Dated this 29th day of Ra in the 340th year of the dominion:
I have come to a decision. I shall allow the gods to make my writings clear, for I shall no longer do so. While I much prefer writing clearly, these last few weeks have hammered the need for secrecy into me.

Just today we ran into a bar keep who was a follower of Set. Apparently this is something common here in the Wolfen Kingdom.

Is it safe to say we’re in the Wolfen Empire? It will have to be. Especially since a minion of Set already knows we were there. Yes, were. I realize that this record is out of date long before it will reach the hands of the individuals who purchase a published volume, but my companions still fear that the agents of darkness will be able to follow us by means of this record…when our own actions do a much better, and more timely job of giving away our intentions to the enemy.

We met Tyvernos, and demanded than he display his CrIsis ring for all, including the minion, to see. We need to be more circumspect about this if people in my party really want to hide our movements from the walkers in shadow.

We left shortly after realizing that there was a follower of Set in the bar, all of us that is except for Chip. He apparently stayed behind to finish off the six ales that he ordered. Far be it from a potential spy to dissuade Chip from slaking his thirst.

We ended up meeting a singular dwarf by the name of Oric Bellode. He is a merchant and the one-time guide that led Tyvernos to our group, or at least to the port where we met him.

He invited us into his home, and then later promised that we would be guided further on our journey.

I only hope that this journey is not short lived, and neither is his apparent hospitality.

Dated this 1st day of Horus in the 340th year of the dominion:
After two days of beautiful weather, in which we had nothing to do but laze around the port town, today dawned dark and wet…and cold. I decided that a little meditation would be in order and made myself and Chip impervious to the chill. He decided to run around in his shorts. In the rain. Seeing the miserable expressions of our companions I had to laugh, but it wouldn’t last the entire day.

About midmorning we were set upon by Bearmen who announced their presence by both their intent and their rustling in the trees. They ran almost as soon as they appeared, only having caused injury to the dog. Greldarr healed the beast, Tyvernos’ mount, and we again took to the sodden road.

At noon, Fred, one of the normal guards for Oric, challenged Cava to an archery contest, which Cava won easily.

The rest of the soggy day we traveled without incident.

Written the morning of the 2nd day of Horus in the 340th year of the dominion:
Tyvernos will bear watching in the future. We were paired two beings at a time for each watch, and the lout fell asleep. Under normal circumstances this might have been acceptable, but in this one, it wasn’t as we were set upon by Ice Giants.

Gavin stopped three of them from even approaching us, which left two more to be contended with.

Chip cowered in fear at the sight of them, and I begin to wonder if much of his swagger was nothing more than the braggadocio that it at first appeared. He couldn’t even wound the dragon with his “gun” that could “shoot through mountains” after all.

I got a couple of fair hits on the giants, but nothing that seemed to slow them down, and their breath and immense swords seemed about to turn the tide decidedly in their favor.

Uttering a silent prayer I released my axes, hoping to in some way slow these monsters down. The moment they left my hand I knew that I’d struck a solid blow, but I didn’t know how true my aim had been until I saw the right arm of the creature fall to the road.

The giants ran at the sight.

I thank Chip for giving me the idea, because seeing the arm of the other giant fall limp, something that Chip caused to happen with his magic, suggested that I should attack the arm of the creature as well. They would still have their breath to fight against us with, but at least their immense swords would be removed from the fight.

It ended well, but I can’t help but feeling that it is somehow Tyvernos’ fault.

Dated this 3rd day of Horus in the 340th year of the dominion:
After Gavin’s loss of 1000 gold yesterday in their archery contest Fred offered a double or nothing bet. With the obvious improvement shown by Gavin I assume that he did something to augment his ability with his mind mage powers.

I was supposed to face the winner, but Gavin chickened out and I ended up throwing against Cava’s archery.

The first throw, I split his arrow. Not too difficult with an axe, but a tie none the less. The second thrown I again hit the bullseye, thinking that Cava would have a difficult time splitting my axe.

The arrow lodged flush with the blade and again in the bullseye.

The third round I won by mere inches.

I think I allowed this to go to my head. I’d tied twice and then pulled ahead by one. Cava trounced me the next two rounds.

Nothing wagered nothing lost.

At least we had nothing of a violent nature seeking to harm us today.

Dated this 5th day of Horus in the 340th year of the dominion:
We arrived in the city today to find a glorious temple to the sundered god and immediately headed there, forgetting the instructions we’d received previously regarding the storage of the part.

We were escorted the the pinnacle of the temple, where we met with Ramen who directed us to disrobe and bath in the waters there. I came out and realized the pull of my scar on my back was gone. Reaching behind me I realized I could no longer feel it at all.

In fact, I realized that the feelings that the event that gave me the scar always brought to my attention were gone as well. I had finally, truly, forgiven my father for allowing me to be sent to the lash. I didn’t even realize until that moment that I still harbored resentment over that event.

The small scars at my neck were also gone. I was whole, mind and body, for the fist time that I could remember.

We were given robes to wear into the temple and then once again we found ourselves on the savanna.

The walk to the second temple was neither long, nor arduous, but the moment we began our ascent to the top, in a line abreast with me in the middle, we began to feel the weight of our sins. We were weighted down more and more the further that we ascended until finally we were reduced to crawling the last few feet to the top.

When each of us finally reached the top, our burdens were lifted and we could again stand.

Isis appeared before us and spoke to us. The words she spoke will not be shared here, but they burned into my consciousness and will be with me for the rest of my life.

After our conversation, a blue fire engulfed the Tongue of Osiris and four Ramen took positions guarding this piece of Isis’ husband.

I only hope that our troubles in the future will be less and not more. I have a bad feeling, however, that we have only just begun.

Posted by Rell on the 5th day of Horus in the 340th year of the Eastern Dominion.

Picture from Robin Hood:Men in Tights


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