Wednesday, 11 January 2012

The Impassable Gate

 Friday 24th December 356 AC - around noon

We took the brief respite as opportunity to rest & lick our wounds. The kender, Nedlog suddenly appeared from one of the camp buildings, some sort of holding facility by the bars on the tiny windows. Following close behind her was an elf, naked but for a scavenged blanket. It seems that as soon as the wall was breached Nedlog scampered off to investigate the buildings scattered about, no doubt with mischief in mind, when she discovered the elf, Ulani, in one of the cells. Ulani is a Wizard of High Sorcery from Silvanesti lands, captured a short time ago and kept here by the dragon armies. It is quite an odd tale from what little we have heard, she was stripped and thrown in a cell but otherwise well treated. Indeed, I have seen many prisoners of the Dark Queen after their internment and I have never seen one so healthy or well fed. The only mistreatment came when her captors put her to use. Apparently they would take her deep into the mountain and place her before a metal pillar that reached from floor to ceiling where she would then be forced to cast the spell 'lighting bolt' continuously until her energy was depleted and her mind fled the waking world. After this 'draining' she would wake in her cell once more with fresh straw on the floor and a hot meal waiting for her so that she could regain her strength and repeat the procedure ad infinatum. None in our group could surmise the purpose of this tiresome ritual but it was immediately clear that it was not simple torture, there was purpose in this practice. Somebody suggested Ulani had been powering some great machine, though what nature of machine I cannot imagine. 

As our new companion finished her tale there was a resounding 'clang' from the stone ogre's cave and shortly after, a massive flash & plume of smoke in the distance to the north. We opted to investigate the local phenomena first, it is likely that the eruption witnessed on the horizon was the fail safe plan we read of in the ogre band's letter. If this is the case I hope and pray one of our messengers reached Sir Hassan and the main body of our army before they attacked the enemy stronghold, if none made it through then I suspect we will be mourning the loss of a great many good men.

Entering the cave we immediately noticed that it was hewn by hand (or claw), not by Chislev's slow touch. We followed a broad tunnel a short distance up until we were confronted by a substantial metal door with three symbols embossed on its surface. The emblems were clearly religious in nature, though none of us were certain of the gods they upheld. Each of us, though, could feel the evil emanating from them like a physical blow. 

Ulani & Azshauna were able to identify an invisible wall of force barring the doors from the far side and decreed it impassable by mundane means, though Sir Dominic was not deterred from making an attempt at opening them by physical assault - to no effect. One of the wizards then sent her sight beyond the door to see if there was a way to disarm the lock from within, where she saw a tunnel leading away with torches lit in their sconces but little else of note. 

We decided to rest and make camp at the mouth of the tunnel so that the magic users of the party could regain their powers and we could maintain a watch on the mysterious metal doors for signs of egress. I decided that it would be in the best interests of Sir Roland & Sir Benedict (the only two of our accompanying knights to survive the battle) and the infantrymen to send them back to our main lines and Sir Hassan, if he still lived. I composed a report detailing the military action, placed it with the personal effects of the brave souls who had given their lives in glory and sent the men on their way. With duty attended to we set a watch & settled in for the night, remaining undisturbed until morning, apart from a small interruption of our rest. Around midnight our two mages both sensed a tremendous use of 'alteration' magic. I do not pretend to comprehend this but I gather mages draw their power from the air around them, unlike divine magic that is sent down from the gods themselves. When a particularly powerful enchantment is cast it can apparently leave a 'deadness' in the surrounding area as all the magic has been used up. There are many possibilities of what our enemies could have been doing but as we are not currently trapped in an invisible box or falling suddenly from a great height, the most likely circumstance is the teleportation of a great number of enemies from behind the sinister door. 

 

Saturday 25th December 356 AC

Merry Yule, one and all. 

We awoke on to a crisp Yule morning to find that nothing had passed overnight and the practitioners of arcane & divine arts had not been able to replenish their energies by any degree. Suspecting some sort of interference we decided to retreat to our stone picket at the mouth of the pass and rest fully. We also took the opportunity to celebrate the occasion as best we could. 

 

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

The Battle of Rybnik Pass

Friday 24th December 356 AC - continued

Brother Ithariel and I advanced toward the wall, he carrying the explosive and I holding a brace of shields aloft. Despite our precautions we both suffered wounds as arrows rained down from the wall, though none so grievous as to hinder our mission. We deposited the device at the gate, surmising that to be the weakest point of the defence and hoping to cause secondary casualties in the battlements above, and beat a hasty retreat. As the bomb detonated we were hit by an invisible force that hurled us to the ground, never have I experienced such a blast & I hope never to experience it again. I swear I can still hear ringing when I don my helmet. 

With the bulwark ruptured I rejoined my knights, mounted and commenced the charge. Sir Dominic, filled with the lust of the righteous, spurred his steed ahead of the towards a draconian standing back from the breach. If the vile creature was capable of smiling I'd swear it grinned as it caught the paladin's gaze and sinisterly licked its sword. I forget sometimes that Sir Dominic did not fight as long in the Wars as some Solamnics and he is not always aware of the lizard-men's tricks. As he dismounted and attacked the beast it succeeded in slipping the smallest of cuts past his armour, barely enough to draw blood but more than enough to deliver the poison on its blade. Though the combat had barely begun Noble Sir Dominic now lay in the dirt, paralysed. 

Fortunately the rest of the knights and I were close behind and we surrounded the draconian before it could deliver a killing stroke. Sir Bertrum gave his life to slay the beast but slay it we did, though even in death it seemed bent on killing Sir Dominic as it melted into a pool of corrosive ichor about his unmoving form. 

By this point the battle was fully joined. We engaged multiple foes, the civilian element of our band attacked targets of opportunity and, our infantry caught up with us and set to with bow and arrow. We swiftly dispatched the scattered human & goblin defenders and Sir Dominic regained control of his limbs before charging off to engage another pair of reptilian foes - perhaps wishing to make up for the disastrous attempt at the first. 

As our main party administered Kiri-Jolith's justice to the remaining goblins a deep rumple could be heard from a cave mouth a short distance away. Glancing over we were confronted with the sight of a monstrous ogre led by a draconian and wielding axe & gargantuan club. By the blindfold covering its eyes and the grey hue to its skin it was clear that some foul sorcery was at play in this behemoth, what nature of sorcery we would soon discover. 

The monster's guide retreated back into the tunnel from whence it came and left the ogre to charge blindly towards our band. As the miscreation neared our position it became clear that what had been perceived as grey coloured skin was in fact a layer of course stone built onto every inch of the beast. 

Before the abomination could reach us the Lady Azshauna twice doused it in flame, to little effect and it barrelled into our group, weapons flailing. It swiftly became clear that ordinary weapons were no match for this beast's stone skin, only an enraged Starsong succeeded in cracking its facade, but we continued the attack as we could only do. Sir Tristram and Sir Tegyr were sent to Huma's breast by the creature's wicked maul. 

No doubt fearing for her safety the Lady Azshauna unleashed a great bolt of lightning on the beast with neither a glance nor a care at her surroundings. It breaks my heart to name Sir Lucane and Sir Hector among the casualties, caught as they were between the magician & her target. The ogre continued to swing its mighty weapons down upon us and the elf barely seemed to notice what she had done, I had always been taught that elves value life above all else - perhaps I was mistaken. 

While we continued the futile battle with the colossal stone ogre Sir Dominic was fairing not a lot better with his opponents, though he had been joined by Sir Leofrick and Sir Gregory. From what brief glances I could glean of my comrade he swiftly dispatched the first draconian, only to lose his sword to the corpse's stony embrace. The three of them then proceeded to advance on the second, who drew a wand from its sleeve. For a moment the entire group was engulfed in an explosion of flame and when it passed only the solitary foe and the paladin remained standing. Sir Dominic was clearly in distress, burnt & bleeding but the reptile appeared untouched by the heat. The two august knights who had stood by Sir Dominic's side lay upon the ground, burnt to a crisp.

Surely Sir Dominic must truly be blessed to withstand such damage and continue to fight? Within moments of the smoke clearing I witnessed the great knight sweep up the sword of a fallen comrade and force it between the ribs of his countrymen's murderer. 

Shortly after, a near berserk Starsong dealt the final blow to the stone-ogre, splitting the rock covering in two to reveal the shrunken & deformed cretin within. We turned, catching our breath, to see six bloated plainsmen swaying towards us brandishing daggers. Without a moment's hesitation Azshauna ended their lives in a hellstorm of fiery death and we found ourselves breathing hard and hearts pumping with no enemies left alive to fight. 

 

Monday, 9 January 2012

A Song of Mourning

Sir Bertrum of Solanthus
Sir Lucane of Vingaard
Sir Hector of Kalaman
Sir Tristram Goodlund
Sir Tegyr of Icereach
Sir Gregory Caergoth 
Sir Leofrick of the Plains of Abanasinia 

Your foe is defeated, the wretched have fled the field of battle and the helpless are safe from harm. You have earned your warrior's rest, songs shall be sung of your courage. 

Return this man to Huma's breast 
Beyond the wild, impartial skies; 
Grant to him a warrior's rest 
And set the last spark of his eyes 
Free from the smothering clouds of wars 
Upon the torches of the stars. 
Let the last surge of his breath 
Take refuge in the cradling air 
Above the dreams of ravens where 
Only the hawk remembers death. 
Then his shade to Huma rise 
Beyond the wild, impartial skies.


Return this man to Huma’s breast
 Let him be lost in sunlight,
 In the chorus of air where breath is translated; 
At the sky’s border receive him.

Beyond the wild, impartial skies
 Have you set your lodgings,
 In cantonments of stars, where the sword aspires
 In an arc of yearning, where we join in singing.

Grant to him a warrior’s rest
 Above our singing, above song itself,
 May the ages of peace converge in a day,
 May he dwell in the heart of Paladine.

And set the last spark of his eyes
 In a fixed and holy place
 Above words and the borrowed land too loved
 As we recount the ages.

Free from the smothering clouds of war
 As he once rose in infancy,
 The long world possible and bright before him,
 Lord Huma, deliver him.
 
Upon the torches of the stars 
Was mapped the immaculate glory of childhood;
 From that wronged and nestling country,
 Lord Huma, deliver him.

Let the last surge of his breath
 Perpetuate wine, the attar of flowers;
 From the vanguard of love, the last surrender,
 Lord Huma, deliver him.

Take refuge in the cradling air
 From the heart of the sword descending,
 From the weight of battle on battle;
 Lord Huma, deliver him. 

Above the dreams of ravens where
 His dreams first tried a rest beyond changing,
 From the yearning for war and the war’s ending, 
Lord Huma, deliver him.

Only the hawk remembers death 
In a late country; from the dusk, 
From the fade of the senses, we are thankful that you, 
Lord Huma, deliver him.

Then let his shade to Huma rise
 Out of the body of death, of the husk unraveling; 
From the lodging of mind upon nothing,
 We are thankful that you, 
Lord Huma, deliver him.

Beyond the wild, impartial skies 
Have you set your lodgings,
 In cantonments of stars, where the sword aspires In an arc of yearning, 
where we join in singing.


Return this man to Huma’s breast
Beyond the wild, impartial skies;
Grant to him a warrior’s rest
And set the last spark of his eyes
Free from the smothering clouds of wars
Upon the torches of the stars.
Let the last surge of his breath
Take refuge in the cradling air
Above the dreams of ravens where
Only the hawk remembers death.
Then let his shade to Huma rise
Beyond the wild, impartial skies.


From Dragons of Winter Night (pages 394-395)
Novel by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Poetry by Michael Williams

Sunday, 1 January 2012

An Unusual Benefactor

Friday 24th December 356 AC

After another of Brother Ithariel's hearty breakfasts (I may suggest to Father that he hires a priest of Kiri-Jolith to run the castle kitchens) we ventured into the pass proper. Roughly two miles into our advance, approximately halfway through the pass if the kender's maps are to be believed, we discovered a wide, carved out open space. This artificial basin houses a military encampment protected on both sides by a stout wall. As the buildings within came into view we regarded a scene of furious activity, soldiers of the dragon armies going to and fro between a cave opening and their various tasks. Tasks which included the wanton mass execution of prisoners - clearly we had to intervene. 

Without warning our band of intrepid warriors was gripped by a gut-wrenching terror, a horror that has not embraced my soul since the end of the Dragon Wars. Many of our number were struck low by the Fear, even the noble and dauntless Sir Dominic, but more intriguing was the number of enemy combatants exhibiting the same terrified symptoms. Looking up (those of us still able) we noticed a great black dragon watching us from its perch atop the mountain - an adult black if I am any judge of such things. 
This certainly explained the fear of the troops in the camp but at once increased my perplexity as we were advancing through an area controlled by the red dragon armies, and black dragons are not the most 'socially inclined' beasts. Indeed, there was a running jest in my company during the wars that blacks were slaughtering as many of their 'allies' as the Knights. To add to my confusion the dragon then dropped a pack in our midst, containing breaching explosives and a spell book bound in red leather. To date I am still unclear on the motives of our reptilian benefactor but as a soldier I could overlook no advantage, we prepared a plan to breach the wall using the provided explosive and entrusted the Lady Azshauna with care of the tome. Many of the troops in the encampment belonged to the green dragon armies (main rival of the blacks) so perhaps the beast wanted us to disrupt the plans of a rival?

At some point Nedlog escaped our notice and scampered up the sheer cliff towards the dragon and disappeared into a crevice. The guards on the wall took notice of this and their number soon increased to at least ten, though we saw little other new activity. Suddenly all in the valley heard a gargantuan roar from the dragon above, those of us close enough also heard a distinctly kender voice shout "And you'd better do what I say - or else!"