Monday 27th December 356 AC - continued

Leaving the foul, disease-ridden rooms behind we made our way back to the side passage we had passed by earlier. The tunnel led gradually down and a soft light could be seen ever more clearly as we moved along. Given the likelihood that light could mean a present enemy, left behind perhaps to guard an item of import but difficult to move, we shuttered our lanterns and continued with due caution, led by those in our party gifted with better-than-human sight. Nedlog took position at the head of the line and while she was unable to expose any mundane traps, the lady Ulani did sense and disarm a magical one.

After what felt like an age of fumbling quietly through the dark corridor we came at last to the cavern at its end. There are more vats of strange liquid here along with a great many treasures including a spell book – noted by an excited Ulani. In the centre of the hall, near the high ceiling, hung a large glowing orb – the source of the light. It hung there unmoving without the aid of ropes or cables, almost seeming to 'bob' slightly as if it were floating on a gentle sea. Sir Dominic tossed a pebble at the orb and it simply bounced off with a glassy 'clink' sound and sent its glowing mass drifting slightly away. Nedlog, her curiosity too great, set about trying to catch the orb under a blanket.

While we pondered the nature of the radiant ball the Qualinesti elf, Azshauna, gathered up the trinkets scattered about and attempted to use her magicks to identify any that might be of special interest. Sadly magic proved to be as reliable as most of my brother knights believe it to be and we turned at Azshauna's rather unladylike to see a small cloud of purple smoke. The cloud 'fizzed' slightly before whizzing randomly around the room and finishing its flight by crashing into poor Starsong's face. The Plainswoman seemed to be unharmed if somewhat bewildered, indeed she promptly sat down in a puddle of unknown liquid and began eating one of her pouches, but the mages assured assured us the effect was temporary.

Suddenly two of the vats were thrown aside, spraying their contents all about, and from behind them leapt six oversized, skeletal men. When I say skeletal I do not mean to give the impression that they had been underfed or malnourished – no, these were indeed men who had been reduced to mere bones and then reanimated by heinous rites. Each stood at least seven feet tall and brandished a wicked looking weapon, I am certain that had they possessed lips, they would have been curled in a snarl.

Undaunted, Sir Dominic stepped forward boldly and shone the Light of Paladine upon them, sending them fleeing back to whatever hole they had appeared from. The Kender scampered after them to find all six cowering in a small, previously hidden room filled with arms and armour.

As Nedlog 'helpfully' pushed her recently captured orb at us, we moved forward to slay the abominations. The first kills went to the Silvan mage as to missiles of white-hot energy flew by our heads, exploding in the chest cavities of two of the foes. Brother Ithariel succeeded in slaying another two with blows of his mace while Sir Dominic and I failed to land a single useful hit. Ulani eventually saved us from our shameful encounter and slew the final two horrors. This was the first time I had fought the unliving and indeed, a sword is a poor weapon to choose when your foe has no flesh to pierce. It is, however, a sad day when two Knights of the Sword are outdone on the battlefield by a priest and a wizard only recently rescued from imprisonment. Remembering the words of my old tutor, Sir Hallam, I searched the collected weapons for a good mace, lest we face another skeletal foe and we prepared to leave.

Nedlog, of course, refused to leave her new orb behind and Starsong was still seated lazily in a pool of the milky, fishy 'soup' that had been spilled out of the vats. We gathered her up and proceeded back to the lift.

The enemy complex fully explored we were ready to leave but Sir Dominic insisted that one task remained. While the rest of us returned to the surface he made his way to the lowest level to put an end to the troll's miserable existence. We were all quite curious to know how he would escape the lift shaft once he had slain and burned its power source so he instructed us to take a length of rope and secure one end to a heavy weight, casting the other end over a beam and down to him. Sir Dominic is a brave and noble warrior but his strategies do have a habit of turning against him. We did as he asked, finding a pile of logs to use as a counterweight and once he had tied the rope about his waist we heaved the heap into the shaft.

And so the story of Sir Dominic di Caela; defender of the defenceless; slayer of ogre, troll and undead beast, was very nearly brought to an end as he crashed into the stack of logs halfway up the shaft. Mercifully he had tied the rope quite securely about him and he arrived at the top, battered and bruised but alive.

We left our friend to tend to his wounds and nurse his bruised ego and went to the grizzly task of burning the bodies on the upper level before moving out of the tunnel to make camp for the night.

A long day behind us, we set a watch and slept around Nedlog's orb – enjoying its soothing warmth.

Into the depths

Monday 27^th December 356 AC

At the advice of our priest and mages we moved away from the ominous door once we had expressed our Yuletide thanks to the Gods, in case the environment was inhibiting their recovery of magical energies. We returned to our camp at the head of the pass and rested there for a day and two nights.

Upon returning to the tunnel and the iron door we resumed our attempts to gain entry. Sir Dominic attacked it physically with youthful exuberance (despite repeated warnings) and was rewarded with a chipped sword and jarred joints. The lady Azshauna, seeing that he is not to be reasoned with, muttered some unintelligible words and clapped her hands soundly together – a moment later we found ourselves the other side of the steel entrance.

The cavern we appeared in was utterly silent and had the stench of death about it.

Apparently the magical barrier was dispelled by our entry so we lifted the bar and opened the gate to encourage some fresher air through this fetid place. The design of the doors, opening in rather than out, immediately suggests that they were put in place to prevent exit rather than entry. This is curious on many levels but particularly as the locking bar and mounts would have had to be deliberately moved to the inside for their current configuration. Evidently this complex was not being used as its original purpose intended, perhaps the magical barrier was a necessary addition to the defences reflecting this fact. Sir Eurig may be able to shed more light on the mysterious design of the fortifications here as that is something of a hobby of his, I must remember to ask him when next we meet.

Around the small cavern we found a dozen or so corpses, heaped unceremoniously about. Bodies of men, goblins, draconians and other races lay about – all dressed in the livery of the Dragon Armies. The most conspicuous similarity in their appearance was in fact the omission of the Green. Red, Black, Blue and White were all represented among the dead but minions of the Green Dragon Armies were nowhere to be found. The presence of so many different regiments was indeed quizzical, also unnerving, as the agents of the Dark Gods rarely like to work together and thus far found casualties have tended to be of the same hue.

Since transporting us there Azshauna had been scouring the area for evidence of our enemies and had found tracks in the dirt (those that Sir Dominic and I had not trampled in investigating the entrance). According to her trained elven eyes a great many individuals had recently moved through this passage. There were traces of human, goblin, draconian and even a few ogre feet making their way out of this tunnel. It suggested an exodus but perhaps a 'redeployment of troops' would be the more appropriate term, as this was most likely the staging area for the recent assaults on the local populace.

Quiet until that point, Ulani suddenly announced that she knew this place, that she had been brought here daily during her internment. Somewhere within this rabbit warren of tunnels we would find the great metallic pillar she had been forced to energise and perhaps we might even find a clue as to its purpose.

Following the most obvious tunnel to its limit we discovered a cage, not unlike those found at the loading areas of Hargoth's docks. To one side there were four levers – marked 'one', 'two', 'three' and the uppermost marked with a red dot. We boarded the cage at Nedlog's insistence, barely having time to discuss our course of action before the mischievous rogue pulled the third lever and slammed the gate shut. It is fortunate that my kender companion also had the foresight to tie a tether to the 'return' lever (at least, what we presumed to be so) as we could have otherwise been required to endure a long and difficult climb to ensure our escape. Nedlog is a singularly intelligent kender, often thinking ahead and in ways that others would struggle to comprehend – I do, however, wish that she would sometimes take a moment to explain her plans before she acts on them. To this day I cannot even fathom where she found nearly a hundred feet of coarse yarn.

With a low groan the cage slowly made its way to the bottom of the shaft, where we were greeted by a sorry sight indeed. The groans we had heard were not the sounds of old ropes and pulleys under tension but were, in fact, the tortured moans of a large troll, bound up in ropes and chains to provide the 'engine' for the lift system. The dock engineers of Hargoth are known to use strong horses and oxen to power their cargo lifts but if I found a work animal in a state such as this I would have the Harbour Master's head. The pitiful wretch was bruised and cut, even missing a leg, and it simply stared blankly ahead – the light of even primitive intelligence long since gone from its eyes. Trolls are known to the knights for their regenerative capabilities, so I cannot imagine what torturous magicks were employed to keep the beast in its broken state. Evidently the enemy that resided here saw no further use for their broken troll once they had fled, content to leave it here to die. It says something, does it not, about the nature of our enemy when their deeds can cause a good knight to feel compassion for a creature of such base evil as a troll.

Heart-breaking as it was, we were forced to leave the beast in place until we discerned the purpose of this complex.

Ulani was unfamiliar with the cells and cages on this level so we made our way back to the lift and pulled the lever marked 'two'.

This level was instantly recognisable to the Silvan mage so we investigated it thoroughly. There were a great many rooms of differing size, almost all containing altars pledged to the Skull-faced God and most holding broken shelves and scattered debris. Indeed, the entire level appeared to have been hit by a tornado, it seems that the dragon army forces decided to leave in a great hurry and tried to destroy whatever they could not carry out. Eventually we found the room with the metal pillar. It was a massive thing, smoothed to perfection and reaching from floor to ceiling as if it ran from the very base of the mountain all the way to its peak.

Brother Ithariel suggested that we spend some time gathering what paperwork lay about in the hope that something crucial had been left intact. There was evidence that the foul clerics had been experimenting here and we soon pieced together the focus of their research. They had been experimenting on Paladins.

What the end goal was we could not be certain of but the suggestion was made that these agents of the Dark Queen could have been trying to create Her own unholy warriors, Certainly since the Gods turned their gaze back to the mortals of Krynn Paladine's Chosen Warriors have been a beacon of light in the darkness for honest folk, not to mention a constant thorn in Her wretched side. I can see why the forces of the enemy would want to replicate the power they bring to the battlefield. Full details of our discoveries have been included in my report to my superiors for if we are right – a great threat could be on the horizon.

Among the scraps we also found notes from the foul Scranti. An ogre war-band had been sent to Starsong's village (for what purpose we could not discover) but they failed to return. When a second band was dispatched they could find no sign of either the original invaders or even the village itself. If the young Plainswoman hoped to find clues to the fate of her people here she hid her disappointment well, for all she found were more questions.

We continued exploring, finding in one room two large vats of acid with steel ropes running to the metal pillar. They look like what the gnomes of Nevermind call 'batteries', though I cannot recall their purpose. In another room I noticed a large glass case with a Plainsman inside, he had been cut in half down his centre line and preserved in some kind of clear jelly. Starsong recognised him as a resident of a neighbouring village.

With apparently nothing left to discover here we set about breaking the altars and consecrating the area.

By this time we were in need of a break, both physically and emotionally, so we returned to the surface to eat and rest a while. After a short lunch duty called us back inside the mountain.

We decided to clear the bodies in the entranceway before venturing back into the underground layers of the complex and made a rough count as we piled them ready for burning. There were almost one hundred corpses there of many different races. Only the humans and goblins among them wore any armour and even that was rare, what emblems we found marked them as troops of the dragon armies. It instils a certain uneasiness to think that our enemy can wantonly slaughter so many of their own men – what secret do they possess to make them so certain of victory.

Even the servants of evil deserve a chance at redemption, in the next life if not this one, so prayers were said over them before we made our way back to the one remaining unexplored level.

Here we found ourselves in a corridor of many cells, though comfortable ones. The air was dry and the straw in them seemed fresh. We continued past them to find a passage leading downhill with one tunnel leading off it and a Y junction after around five hundred yards.

Down one branch of the junction we could barely perceive a low, indefinable 'hum' while the other was marked by a distinct odour. We chose the second path and after sixty or so yards we greeted by a large collection of rat trappers' cages, with dozens, if not hundreds, of rat tracks in the dust. Not much further along there was an open cavern and a bridge seemingly leading to a blank wall on the other side. Far below the bridge was a living sea of rats, swarming over each other like maggots and stirring up the stench of rotting flesh. We retreated in disgust and investigated the other passage, which terminated in a sealed metal door. The hum we had heard was much louder here and obviously the source lay the other side of the door so Nedlog produced a set of tools and set to work on the lock. Mere moments later the door lay open, revealing a second door and a curious security measure. With a “hmm” and an “uh huh” and a bit of stroking her non-existent beard Nedlog finally announced that the second door could be opened only when the first door was closed. Sir Dominic immediately volunteered to investigate and Nedlog's curiosity would not permit her to remain behind so they stepped inside and closed the outer door.

Within the 'hum' proved in fact to be the buzz of thousands of fleas, which directly set about biting and nipping my companions' exposed flesh. Through the swarm Sir Dominic could see a net and also the bones of human children – picked clean by the insects. Cursing our foe, Sir Dominic set the room ablaze with a flask of Ergothan Fire and escaped the vile place.

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. 

 

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. 

 

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

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!"

Rybnik Pass

Thursday 23rd December 356AC Continued

Once we had eaten lunch our reduced war-band rode out through the fog and the mud, continuing on into the night. Around an hour after nightfall we were confronted with the mountain pass. Rybnik Pass is an imposing feature, it looks as though some great giant has cleft the mountain with its axe. The ravine is narrow and its sides rise vertically towards the heavens broken only by an apparent cave network that Sir Dominic laid eyes upon. In the clay of the track Brother Ithariel was able to discern the footprints of humans, goblins and draconians in some numbers. 

The ladies of the party then took it upon themselves to play the role of scouts, leaving those of us less stealthy by nature to wait. 
Some time passed and I had the opportunity to study the caves, reasoning that they must be joined inside the network - thus providing a perfect defensible position, allowing rocks and other material to be rained down upon your attackers before making an escape through the earth. 
Shortly before we would have become concerned for the safety of our comrades a dull thump could be heard a little way up the pass, followed by a hunting horn. We readied the men, forming a spear line across the opening of the pass, while the advance party retreated to the safety of the group. 

Eventually our sharp-eyed kender spotted hooded man walking down the pass towards us. He knocked an arrow to his longbow and let fly, sending an arrow into the dirt not far from our position, fixed to which was a scrap of parchment inscribed with the words "Flee or die". Not to be put off by unfounded threats we sent the shadowy archer's missile back to its owner and in a rare moment of whimsy one of the knights replaced the note with one reading "There's nobody here". It is after all, healthy to relieve tension in times of stress. For at least another hour by the stars the only further contact we experienced was a second projectile note reading "Still here?"

Around midnight a shout of "gas" was raised from one of those on watch. As we roused ourselves, a noxious mist the colour of bile could be seen inexorably creeping along the pass towards our forward line. Brother Ithariel, quick to action as ever, gathered the pikemen & had them build a substantial fire at the mouth of the gorge in the hope that the heat would dissipate the unholy fog. Fortunately the Lady Azshauna was able to identify the spell used as 'Cloudkill', an extremely unpleasant method of slaughtering your foe en masse but one easily overcome by the light breeze the lady summoned at her command. 

Some two hours later our rest was once again disturbed by sight of the hooded archer. On this occasion he had with him a goblin companion and a large man who continued to shamble towards us. This oversized, stumbling figure caught our attention as he approached the dying light of the fire we had set earlier in the night. As he came into view we could see that he was dressed in the furs of a Plainsman but his flesh was unnaturally swollen, as if filled with fluid. Starsong did not recognise the man as one of her Que-Kiri tribe but she was still distraught at his condition, particularly once he was close enough to see the pain on his face and the tears streaming down his cheeks. It became evident that this poor soul was no longer in control of his actions and whatever dire purpose he served was clearly to our detriment. It broke my heart to give the order but the archers at my command responded swiftly and without hesitation, giving evidence to their worth. As they prepared to loose their arrows and stop the wretched Plainsman the nefarious bowman sent a burning missile into his pawn and there followed a tremendous explosion. Apparently the captured prisoners of this enemy are being turned into weapons inconceivable in nature. Fortunately the blast was too far back from our line and we escaped with no injuries, at least none physical. The rest of the night passed uneventfully, though many of us lost sleep thinking of the unfortunate soul who had been sacrificed to a nefarious cause. 

Ogres!

 

Thursday 23rd December 356 AC

By noon the weather had turned foul and hail beat down upon us. Unable to start a fire, our advance group stopped for a cold lunch. Brother Ithariel did manage to cook the brace of rabbits caught by Lady Azshauna. Just in time to share a meal Sir Dominic reverted to his normal form, fuming with rage at having to endure such abasement. As he stormed about in anger he happened to glance up and notice something through the hail. Eight ogres were advancing on our position in 'arrow' formation, not an easy thing for and ogre commander to assemble. 

 
Starsong was the first to meet the threat with bow and flaming arrow, landing a hit in the neck of the lead beast, after which our infantry followed suit. Swiftly a defensive line was formed about me with the pikemen planting their long-arms ready to receive the charge. Lady Azshauna erupted a massive ball of fire amid the rampaging ogres and the lead ogre returned the favour by detonating flame amongst our own ranks. Sir Dominic fared the worst of those who survived, though he faultered not. Without warning some of the less experienced knights rode out to meet the enemy advance head on. Though they were noble & brave, their actions secured their demise. Some did mange to wound their attackers but ultimately the ogres made use of their size and strength to vanquish them. Once the charge met our spear line we resisted, though it hit us hard. Starsong sustained a wound and some of the infantry now rest with Paladine. At some point Sir Dominic managed to heal his own wounds and join the fight, beheading one of the vile creatures. The lead ogre targeted the Lady Azshauna and landed a cruel blow, sending her reeling before it unleashed another ball of flame amidst our ranks. With the unfailing bravery of the kender Nedlog leapt at the abomination, grappling like a ferret up a trouser leg, until she grasped the ogre's wand. With a flash of light most of the ogre's torso disappeared and Nedlog assumed a smug expression. With the battle all but won, the final ogre tried to make it's escape. Swiftly I mounted my horse and rode it down. As I leapt from my mount I attempted to subdue the fiend with my shield so that we could interrogate it, sadly ogres are not as durable as I had been led to believe and I succeeded in crushing it's windpipe. 

Too many good men lost their lives in that short fight and I hold myself entirely accountable. An army, no matter how small, is only as strong as its commander and my leadership or lack there of cost us dearly. While Sir Dominic gave the remaining men a rousing speech to lift their spirits and Brother Ithariel lectured them on the folly of charging past a defensive line, I spent my time praying over the bodies of the fallen and collecting their heirlooms. I pray that when next we meet combat I am able to show more wisdom in my command. 
Once our own dead had been attended to we turned our attention to the foul smelling corpses of the ogres, finding no small amount of coin and a letter written in the monsters' tongue. Lady Azshauna was able to translate the note and explained that it had been signed by Scranti, one of our quarry. He, She or It requested that the ogres send out a force to stop their pursuers and allow their band time to escape to Blödhelm. The letter also explained that the fort being assaulted by the main body of our army had been rigged as some kind of trap for the nights. Given the date we were able to calculate that we had very little time to warn Sir Hassan of the danger. I dispatched one of the men immediately with a copy of the ogre's letter and a brief explanation of the danger, an hour later I dispatched one of the pikemen (who promised some riding experience) as insurance, should the Knight be waylaid.  

The Black Knight Returns

Thursday 23rd December 356 AC

As my body slept on a flea filled cot in one of Slupsk's abandoned buildings, my mind was taken elsewhere.

I found myself standing upon a field of battle, my sword encrusted with blood and my enemies dead about my feet. Hearing a scream, I turned to find Sir Dominic receiving heavy blows from a huge knight in blackened armour and full helm.
As the Black Knight raised his sword for the killing blow I charged in between them and brought up my gauntlet in defense of us both. Suddenly, and in the way that can only happen in dreams, a large shield appeared on my arm that had been there all along. As Sir Dominic gathered himself behind me, unarmed, the Black Knight rained down blows like the Gods' thunder upon my shield.

With that I awoke.
The dream itself, though somewhat distressing, was not so unusual for a warrior and I would have thought nothing of it had Sir Dominic not mentioned his own dream as we broke our fast. It seems that he experienced the same event as I during his slumber. Not only that but he has encountered this Black Knight before- in both a dream and armed combat.
Given the serious and unnatural character of our shared nightmare Sir Dominic suggested we consult with Brother Ithariel. On hearing our account of the experience he shared our disquiet and advised us that magic could be at play. The Brother decided to cast a spell that would reveal any magical residue left upon us, after which he pronounced me clean of magical corruption. Sir Dominic on the other hand was not so fortunate. To everyone's amusement, some unexpected element of the spell resulted in my brother at arms turning into a large, pink ball of fluff.

Entertaining as Sir Dominic's condition was, more important matters had to be attended to. It was decided that I would lead our small party, along with a squad of Knights and some pikemen ahead of the main group in the hope that we should catch our enemies unprepared. The main force would follow behind as swiftly as possible to aid us, should we encounter strong resistance. I made certain to inform Sir Hassan of the 'geas' placed upon all of the prisoners and helped him realise that, like the fires, they were simply a delaying action.
Before I led the advance group out I ensured that summary executions had been carried out and appropriate prayers made.

Magical transportation to far off lands

Wednesday 22nd December 356 AC

On rising this morning we each found another present under our pillows, placed with professional stealth during the night. I found a scroll written in unfamiliar script under my own and while I investigated it an explosion was heard from Sir Dominic's room, along with some words I didn't think he knew.
After breakfast had been cleared two Officers of the Watch, Rutledge and Massey, joined us to inform us that John and Mary Keenan were dead.
Saddened as we were by the news, we had a more important job to do so we made our way to the Mage Shop. After allowing a little time for the wizard of the party to stock up on supplies we braced ourselves for transportation by magical means...

...when next we opened our eyes we found ourselves in a new location entirely. The rain was the first change anyone noticed, the cold soon bit and we were slowly aware that we stood outside the tall wooden palisade wall of the small town of Slupsk.
Sir Dominic provided Holy Light that we might find the gate and I proceeded to make our presence known. There followed a brief, tense discourse with the guards before a fleeting glance at the crest on my shield gained our entry.
On passing through the gate our eyes were greeted with the sight of a broken town. Buildings were in disrepair, many appeared uninhabited while others were frankly uninhabitable. Almost all the individuals we saw were knights but what civilians there were subdued and demoralised. The guard eventually guided us to what had been the town hall, now headquarters for the local operation, for conference with with Sir Hassan. Fierce shouting could be heard as our guide knocked and entered the main chamber. Within were Sir Hassan and a furious young man dressed entirely in black, who stormed from the room upon our arrival.
I handed Sir Hassan our orders which caused him to ask the simple question "Where are the rest of you?". Evidently the situation here had become far more serious than the Knight's Council, I explained to my honoured colleague that sadly our group comprised the entirety of the reinforcements.

With a sigh, Sir Hassan brought us to the map room for briefing. We were informed that while the main body of the Knights' army assaulted a stronghold to the north a small number of enemy combatants had broken free and fled in this direction. Sir Hassan had been dispatched with a small force due to the belief that the escaping party included some war criminals (potentially Roark) and other persons of interest. Capture of these individuals was the highest priority. The only pass through the mountains to the south is Rybnik Pass, and this is believed to be their immediate destination. Thus far the pursuit has been hampered by the firing of every town the enemy passed through, forcing the Knights to stop and aid the local population. Some prisoners have been captured, human and goblinoid in nature, but as yet they have not given up any useful intelligence (indeed they have been more of a hindrance up to this point).

The first order of business is to interrogate the prisoners ourselves. The Knights here have neither mage nor cleric so there may be things we can discover that they could not. I first ensured Sir Dominic was made busy aiding the Knights before inviting Brother Ithariel, Lady Azshauna and Starsong to join me for the interrogation. It should be noted that long experience has shown, interrogations go much more smoothly if paladins are kept away. Lady Azshauna was able to detect some kind of magic on the prisoners and Brother Ithariel dispelled it from one human. The prisoner, now able to talk, was eager to enlighten us on any subject. It seems he had been in Torun, where he became injured and was left behind to die. The Knights have been trailing him along for the past week. The band he was part of is known as the Hellwagon Train, comprising of forty or so soldiers. He was able to confirm Rybnik Pass as their destination and, as was our belief, certain important persons were travelling with the group. We now know the names of our quarry; Olmos, the group's draconian leader (wanted for war crimes); Penikett, a cleric of Chemosh; Rekha, a cleric of Morgion; Trucco, another cleric of Chemosh; and Scranti, a Mage of the Black Robes wanted by the Tower of High Sorcery.

With some positive intelligence to follow we left the prisoners and found rooms for the night, each taking a turn on watch to give the beleaguered guards some reprieve.

Duty calls

Monday 20th December 356 AC

At Third Watch Sir Dominic joined me in visiting Sir Gregory. Formalities were swiftly dispensed as we were informed that as soon as our party could be assembled we would be sent to a small town south of Sanction by the dismal name of Slupsk. Since the end of the last war efforts have been made to cleanse the area of 'unsociable elements'. For the most part this has been successful- the dragon armies are in disarray, the ogre and goblinoid populations are under control and the entire region of Neraka is restricted by major trade embargoes. As is inevitable, however, some more extreme elements are intent on the continuation of hostilities. It is these elements the we will be sent to bring under control.
As soon as we can ready ourselves we are to return to Palanthas where we may present a document of travel to the proprietor of the Mage supply shop. She will transport us by magical means to the area in which Slupsk resides.

Our somewhat unorthodox group was we under way by Fifth Watch and we made camp along the road after a day's good travel.


Tuesday 21st December 356 AC

Given our progress the previous day I decided the party (and the horses) had earned a relaxed start to the day. We stowed our trail rations and allowed Brother Ithariel to prepare one of his, now famous, breakfasts, while Starsong and Sir Dominic engaged in a little weapons training. Nedlog eventually ended the sparring by unleashing a furious torrent of abuse of them both - I shall only record that I was glad to have a priest with us, for Sir Dominic's sake.
After the incident with a bored kender we broke camp and completed out journey, arriving at Palanthas halfway through Evening Watch, and arranged to spend the night in the barracks.

Sir Dominic and Starsong proceeded immediately to the home of Julie's aunt and uncle, John and Mary Keenen (the only known relatives of the young girl we rescued along the road). The first sign of any disturbance was a conspicuous lack of activity within the house and grounds- remember that the gentleman and lady of the house were quite wealthy, there should have been people coming and going at all times of the day. Sir Dominic took it upon himself to gain entry to the main house via the kitchen and found the cook within, strangled dead.
A cursory investigation of the ground floor revealed two more victims and they swiftly decided the best course of action would be to contact the City Watch. Though we all felt concern for the little orphan on hearing the news, we were content to leave the matter in the hands of those who could focus more on the task.

On a lighter note, Brother Ithariel lightened the mood by presenting us all with early Yuletide gifts.

Addendum

Sunday 19th December 356 AC - addendum

As the ceremony came to a close we retired to prepare for the evening's celebratory banquet. I honestly believe that the Knights could rule all of Ansalon if we spent as much time on campaign as we did at banquets and dances, though speaking such aloud could cost me my position.
On entering our chambers, Sir Dominic and I both discovered missives insisting we visit with Sir Gregory first thing in the morning. We resigned ourselves to avoiding the most enthusiastic of the revelry and made our way to the main hall.
The banquet itself was mostly tasteful, somewhat enjoyable and exactly like the hundreds I have attended before but Sir Dominic was afforded the appropriate deference and our party seemed to enjoy the affair. The only item of note was the impromptu fortune telling stall of Nedlog Rednow; Psychic, Palm Reader and Magician Extrordinaire. The stall proved worryingly profitable, I must remember to have words with my young kender friend on the subject of exploiting the gullible, though Knights of Solamnia and their companions should have known better if I am to be honest.

The Knighting of Sir Dominic

Though the following words are not my own, I feel it is important that this day be recorded here.

Sunday 19th December 356 AC

Dawn breaks around 8.30. It is a cold, but still, without a cloud in the
sky.
The tower is a hive of activity with knights moving purposefully ensuring
all preparations are in place and making last minute adjustments and polish
to armour and swords. Breakfast is a sparse affair, the kitchens busy
preparing the banquet of that evening and the mess hall empties as quickly
as it fills. The party eats quietly without Dominic and Sir Thomas before
heading off to prepare themselves.
As noon approaches the activity reaches a fervour across the 4 courtyards,
before a sudden silence descends. It is then, in each of the courtyards,
two thousand knights stand to attention, to witness one of their own
receive the promotion he deserves. Marching as a single unit, each
courtyard empties in turn filing into the centre plaza of the fortress,
first the Order of the Crown, secondly the Order of the Sword, with the
knights of the Order of the Rose flanking them all on the right facing the
main tower. From the 4th courtyard the invited guests - friends, family and
noblemen file in to take their places in the rows of seats in front of the
knights. With all orders in place, three elder knights and their wives move
to the platform, each the highest ranking knight within their order and
dressed in ancient, gold trimmed armour. Finally, the party are led in to
join the ceremonial party on the platform - Starsong dressed in a
traditional formal dress, Nedlog in a modern design in all of the colours,
with Brother Ithariel following in ceremonial red armour. A moment later
the are joined by Lady Azshauna dressed resplendent in white. Standing
silently, the only noise is the flicker of the flags blowing in the wind.
As the tower bell strikes 12, a trumpet fanfare is blown and all rise. To
the left a set of double doors are flung open to reveal Dominic, with Sir
Thomas at this side. They walk out into the sunlight, Dominic, unarmed and
dressed in simple armour, stepping up the steps to face his superiors and
his party. A herald moves from the side and proclaims
"Grant we pray, Paladine, our prayers, and see fit to bless with the hand
of your majesty this sword with which your servant desires to be girt, to
the end that he may be a defender of the Church, of widows, of orphans, and
of all the servants of good, against the cruelty of evil, and that he may
be the terror and dread of his enemies, ensuring for him the performance of
equitable prosecution and just defense. Amen."
"Paladine, who establishes and lawfully rules the order of all things: who
to put down the malice of reprobates and to defend justice have, by your
beneficent disposition, permitted men on Krynn the use of the sword, and
have willed to institute Chivalric Orders for the protection of the people:
and who said by way of the blessed Huma to the soldiers who came to him
that they should do violence to no man, but be content with their pay: we
humbly pray grant, through your heavenly bounty, to this your servant, who
comes a new recruit to put his neck under the chivalric yoke, the power and
valor to defend the faith and justice, increase him in faith, hope,
charity, the fear as well as the love of good, humility, perseverance,
obedience and patience, and direct him lawfully in all things, so that he
will never injure anyone unjustly with this or any other sword, and so
that, just as he is raised from an inferior station to the new honor of
knighthood, so, putting off the old man with his deeds, he will put on the
new man, to fear you and render You just worship, to avoid the society of
the wicked, to pour out his charity upon his neighbor, to obey the articles
of his faith lawfully in all things, and to fulfill his office justly at
all times. Amen."
The eldest of the Knights stands. With the symbols of the Order of the
Rose, Lord Godfrey Schonfield speaks
"Lord Greenway, is the candidate free to take the oath and accept
responsibilities of Knighthood?"
Lord Geoffrey Greenway, the head of the Order of the Sword stands.
"No my lord, he is sworn in fealty to my Lord Hugh Bonneville."
Lord Schonfield speaks again
"Herald, summon his grace and his household."
The third knight on the platform rises, along with his wife to stand in
front of Lord Schonfield
"Lord Bonneville, High Warrior of the Knights of Solamnia, do you release
Dominic de Caela from your fealty, that he may serve the High Clerist of
the Knights of Solamnia?"
"I do, my Lord, with honour"
Lord Schonfield turns to Dominic as Lord Bonneville and his wife return to
their positions.
"Right mindful of your prowess on the field, and responsive to the wishes
of your peers, we are minded to make you Knight of the Sword. Know that to
wear the belt and chain of a knight is to hold a sacred trust; that the
obligations of knighthood will demand your efforts every moment of your
life. "
"A knight of Solamnia must be respectful of all religions, never offending
the faith of another. "
"A knight must respect all those who are weak or defenseless, whether
because of age, infirmity, poverty, or vow, and be steadfast in defending
them. "
"A knight must love his God and his province, and fulfill most faithfully
his feudal duties to his Lord and his Order. "
"His word must be dependable beyond doubt or question. He must never flee
from the face of his foes, nor show them his back. He must be generous to
all. "
"And, always and everywhere, he must be the champion of the right and the
good. "
"The Laws of the Order and the customs of the land require that a knight
be prow, as you have demonstrated you are upon the field; that a knight be
courteous, as you have shown yourself to be and as these noble gentleman
attest; and that a knight be loyal to his Oath and the Measure. Do you then
desire to accept the burden of knighthood and swear fealty to the Order of
the Sword?"
After a brief pause, Dominic accepts. Lord Schonfield continues
"Then swear fealty and pay homage to the Order of the Sword of the Knights
of Solamnia."
Sir Dominic says
"I here swear fealty and do homage to the Order of the Sword of the
Knights of Solamnia; to ever be a good knight and true, reverent and
generous, shield of the weak, defender of the faith, obedient to my
liege-lord, foremost in battle, courteous at all times, champion of the
right and the good. Thus swear I, Dominic de Caela."
Lord Greenway and Lord Bonneville rise to either side of Lord Schonefield.
All three say in unison
"To this we hear and shall never forget, nor fail to reward that which is
given in fealty, with love, with service, with honor and oath breading with
vengeance."
Lord Schonfield advances a step
"Is there a sword which you will offer in service to your order and the
Oath and the Measure?"
Dominic replies
"Yes my liege there is, in the safe keeping of your servant Sir Thomas
Hargoth."
Sir Thomas removes the scabbard from his side, kneels and offers the sword
to Lord Schonfield while saying
"One edge to cuts to the truth, one edge to administer Paladine’s justice,
and a scabbard to counsel mercy."
Lord Schonfield continues "Is there a belt?"
Starsong steps forward and places a belt around Dominic. She speaks
initially in her own language, and then in common
"The knights' white belt symbolizes purity, and chastity that a knight
must reign in his body steadfastly, avoiding the scandals of the body:
gluttony, sloth, and lechery. Purity of purpose and a new beginning to
begin again the steps on the Path to Chivalry."
Satisfied, Lord Schonfield says "Are there spurs?". Nedlog steps forwards
with a look of intense concentration on her face. After attaching the spurs
to Dominic’s heels she says, initially in Kenderspeak and then in common
"As a knights spurs goad the warhorse so should they goad the knight to
Valor, Service, Diligence and Swiftness. Let the spurs hasten the knight to
his duty that he might maintain his Order in the high honor that belongs to
it. By placing precious golden spurs near his feat a knight displays
disdain for worldly things. They should be worn with honor and discretion
lest they be hacked from your heals in shame and disgrace."
As the final words are spoken, a look of relief spreads over her face as
she returns to her place. From smiling, Lord Schonfield returns the
expression on his face to seriousness once again. "Is there a Coat of
Arms?"
Clanking in his armour, Brother Ithariel steps forward
"Shame-fastness or Fear of shame. These arms ensure that all might know
this knight from afar, and judge him fair or foul, to ensure obedience to
the order of knighthood. It symbolizes the hardships and travail that a
knight will suffer foremost in battle and always placing his body between
his duty and his foes just as the surcoat receives any blows, rain, or
insult before the armor and body of the knight. May the strength of Kiri
Jolith be upon you".
Ithariel bows and returns to line before bowing his head in prayer. Lord
Schonfield continues
"The candidate has been invested with the trappings of the office to
knighthood. Is there a chain with which to bind him in his oath of fealty."
Stepping gracefully forward, Azshauna places a chain over Dominic’s head,
saying in elvish, then common
"The chain is of platinum, purest of the metals to signify the purity of
the chain of fealty which binds the knight and his sovereigns to one
another. The chain is heavy to symbolize and remind the knight of the heavy
responsibility he bears. The chain is strong and runs round the neck of the
knight signifying obedience to the commands of his faith and the order.
Pray let your behavior and deeds charge this, Paladine’s symbol with as
great a reverence and respect as it deserves."
As she returns to her place Lord Schonfield draws the sword from the
scabbard held by the kneeling Sir Thomas. Striking the right shoulder, then
the left and finally the head, he proclaims
"In remembrance of oaths given and received. In remembrance of your
lineage and obligations. Be thou a good knight. Rise, Sir Dominic."
As Dominic rises a huge cheer rings out amongst the crowd. Behind the
applauding nobles and civilians, a clash of metal is heard as every knight
repeatedly beats his chest with his right metal gauntlet". After a moment,
silence again descends. At this stage Lord Greenway steps forward towards
the newly knighted Sir Dominic.
"We see many Knights of Solamnia gathered before Us, We thank you for
honoring us with your presence, and would honor you by borrowing a custom
of your past. We seem to recall that in these lands we would now charge the
candidate: Know, now that you are made a knight, that you must succor the
defenseless, seek justice for those of every station, and maintain the
honor of Knighthood. Let this blow remind you that Knighthood shall bring
you pain as well as honor."
With that Lord Greenway punches you hard, squarely in the chest. Taking
the blow, Sir Dominic kneels and being invited to stand, shakes the
outstretched hand of Lord Greenway. Each member of the party moves forward
to congratulate Sir Dominic as three cheers ring out from the knights.
Sir Dominic is invited to stand alongside his lord as Lord Schonfield
moves to the front of the stage. Calling all orders to attention, he then
commands them to fall out. In the same way they arrived, each order takes a
sharp about turn, and returns to their courtyard. With all knights now
gone, Lord Schonfield thanks all for attending, inviting them to the
banquet that the Knighting may be celebrated.

The Birth of Kender Civil Rights

Friday 17th December 356 AC

Later that evening we were called to the main banquet hall for an excruciating social affair. I must confess, I joined the Knighthood to escape the endless balls and banquets of my father's court- only to find that they insist on celebrating at each and every opportunity. Sir Dominic and I toured the room, making the appropriate introductions so that he could receive the congratulations he was due. 
At one point in the evening I noticed Starsong seemed unusually distracted. It would seem that Roark, a name well known but rarely spoken in these halls, had somehow been delivering notes into her chambers. The criminal claimed to know something of the fate of her tribe, though given his previous record I would not be shocked if he orchestrated the atrocity. 
I agreed to do my best to appeal to the mages' conclave on her behalf if she would concede to attempt contact with The Betrayer. 

Later still, having retired for the night, I was awoken by a furious, high pitched ranting at my door. Rising to investigate I opened the door to find two Tower guards and my friend Nedlog, who was in a fit of outrage. The young kender was ranting incoherently for the most part but I did manage to glean the terms "Kender Civil Rights", "Violence inherent in the system" and I'm certain I heard "Wait till Fizban hears of this!". Thankfully the guards had more detail and clearer heads to offer. Apparently the 'kender in residence' at the Clerist's Tower had been accused of some crime and placed in the stocks for the night. I know not what the crime was but given the natural tendencies of their race and the fact that Nedlog probably goaded him into it, I suspect the punishment was just. As a precaution (and to ensure the rest of my night remained undisturbed) I recommended the guards place my vocal colleague in stocks as well, and then swiftly retired once again. 


Saturday 18th December 356 AC

At dawn I visited Dominic, my friend and soon to be brother. I answered any questions he had and readied him for his day of meditation. If I remember my meditation day correctly I spent roughly one third in prayer, one third asleep and one third planning the transport schedules for the shipping season about to start - I trusted a noble Paladin like Dominic to use the day more responsibly.  

Once he was settled at his place I was free to aid Starsong in her enquiries. We visited the library to find any history of her village (remember that she had apparently been victim to some 'time travel' and did not truly understand its fate). The only thing we discovered was that there was nothing to discover. Other villages of the Plains were mentioned frequently, indeed up-to-date histories were available on most of them, but of her home there was not a single mention. Neither of us being scholars, we swiftly reached the limit of our ability but the conspicuous absence of any mention of Starsong's village bought the interest of the Head Librarian. 
We left to matter in his far more capable hands and spent the rest of the day scuffling with Brother Ithariel on the training grounds

Politics at home doesn't seem so bad after all

Friday 17th December 356 AC - addendum

Later that day a messenger once again knocked on my door, given that they never seem to bear pleasant news I trust these messengers are well paid for their task. The lad politely informed me that there had been an ‘incident’ in the library involving Sir Dominic. It would appear the great & noble Chosen One of Paladine was indeed determined to retrieve the scroll he was so set upon finding, so determined in fact that he threatened the life of the head librarian and had to be subdued martially by Brother Ithariel. Less than an hour as a full Knight and he assaulted a scholar in our most high sanctum - I shudder to think what will become of him later.
On my way to the ‘high grade’ holding cells where I dreaded to find Sir Dominic stewing I was interrupted by yet another runner. This time the altercation involved Starsong & Nedlog and as I was hurried to their location the boy informed me that they had apparently assaulted the private suite of the three mages stationed here as liaison to the Knights’ Council. I assured him that this could obviously not be the case but as we neared the coven’s suite & the scorch marks on the walls came into view the pattern of events became somewhat easy to recognise.
The kender had such a look of wonderment upon her visage, as if she had just witnessed the mages turn themselves inside-out & back again, that I suspected no repercussions on her part. The plains-woman on the other hand was literally frothing with rage and I asked that they both be returned to their rooms, vowing on my honour that, in case the mages should press charges, they would both remain within the walls of the Clerist’s Tower.
So weary was I that I did not recognise the inherent dangers of such a vow when a kender is the subject. In hind-sight I understand why the Council sent a ranking Knight to collect these five from Palanthas rather than expecting them to make the, relatively simple, journey alone.
To conclude that eventful afternoon I collected Sir Dominic from his cell before retiring to prepare for the banquet that evening.

Dragons attack! (Apparently)

Friday 17th December 356 AC

Suddenly a cacophony of bells erupted across the sombre compound. My companions expressed confusion at the sound, having apparently been absent for the entirety of the War of the Lance, but my ears were all too familiar with the sound of the dragon attack alarm. Though it had been some time since the dragon bells were rung, my response to them during the war on so many occasions helped earn the rank I hold today. Despite my protest that I should be defending the walls with my brothers, Sir Andrew of the Sword ushered the group swiftly away to a secure location. To call the Tower dungeon a secure location is, of course, generous at best but I have to assume that Sir Andrew was genuinely concerned for all our safety and not simply intent on incarcerating us at the first opportunity. Why he felt the need to place a guard on our locked door I have yet to understand.
We found ourselves in the large common room of the dungeon - upon the walls are ten doors, the one through which we entered and the doors to nine secure cells. The only one of these holding rooms that had any obvious occupant contained the Aurak draconian arrested by ourselves not two days ago. Immediately I felt some irritation that the creature had not been executed upon arrival but I understand some care must be taken while undertaking that task, given the magical nature of the beast. That circumstance does not help me comprehend why the aberration was given a book to read.
From a dark corner of the room (either from an open cell or simply the shadows in the curve of the wall) a well built, young human approached us. He introduced himself as Ariakan, though we quickly recognised him as the son of the Dragon High Lord Ariakas. Some discourse was observed between Brother Ithariel and the Dragon Lord’s son before they engaged themselves in a somewhat tense game of chess, while Sir Dominic & Starsong attempted to interrogate the draconian prisoner. I cannot record the details of either conversation with any clarity as, I must confess I was so infuriated at our unjust confinement.
Eventually my blue blood won the battle over my patience & I beat upon the door demanding to be attended to. When the dungeon door opened I found myself confronted by a Knight of the Crown - my junior in rank, years & experience. I commanded an immediate audience with Sir Andrew and stormed off like the duke I was born to be, trusting the young knight to follow in my wake at his own discretion.
I was led to a board room where, after a vexatious delay, I was joined by Sir Timothy McCarthy, a ranking member of the Order of the Rose and very much my superior. This humbled me somewhat & neutered my pious rampage. Sir Timothy explained, with extreme diplomacy, that we were brought to the dungeons in haste & that it was indeed an error of judgement. He did point out that Ariakan was believed to be the target of the attack and he was reassured to have Sir Dominic & myself in place to defend the asset.
Bowing graciously & showing the appropriate decorum, I thanked Sir Timothy for his time before noticing that Sir Dominic had joined us. My brother at arms took this opportunity to once again request access to the scroll he sought in the Tower library but again he was denied.
This left Sir Dominic somewhat upset, as he was quite determined. I later learned that in communion with the Great God Paladine, Sir Dominic had been given clear guidance that he should acquire this scroll - by any means.

An Orderly Interrogation

Friday 17^th December 356 AC

At 6 am my slumber was disturbed by a knock at my door. No cleric this time but a servant sent to inform me that my presence, along with my travelling companions, would be required in the main court one hour thence. Upon arrival we found a large table set with a meagre breakfast platter for each of us and one extra place set, I have yet to discover the intended occupant of that seat.

As we began to break our fast we were joined by three ranking knights and a guard of Crown knights. Sir Richard of the Crown, Sir Andrew of the Sword and Sir Timothy of the Rose joined us at the table and once their guard were situated around the periphery the door was locked.

Our eminent superiors began proceedings by thanking Sir Dominic & party for joining them, explaining that this was simply protocol. This meeting reeked of many things but from the first I knew standard protocol was not one of them. Growing up at the heels of a Grand Duke one learns a thing or two of politics. Sir Timothy continued by reciting an account of Sir Dominic's heroic act (the primary requirement for advancement to the Order of the Sword). Rather unusually Sir Dominic & his party all claimed ignorance with regard to the act in question, this being the defence of the innocent on November 22^nd as witnessed & signed by the red mage Horstman. Though I was not party to the details, there were murmurs amongst the group of missing weeks and, if you would believe it, time travel. Whatever the cause of the confusion it was clear that the details would not easily be reconciled. On one thing Sirs Timothy, Andrew & Richard were clear – Sir Dominic was to hand over the sword of Sir Thomas Pinchin, a pre-cataclysm relic that Sir Dominic recovered while on his knightly quest. I could not understand the reasoning but Sir Dominic appeared reluctant to give over the sword, claiming some moral quandary. At that the Knights Superior left us to discuss matters, leaving the guard in place about the room & the door locked behind them.

As the bolt clicked into place the familiar look of Kender triumph settled across Nedlog's features and she drew from her sleeve a scroll that had been shown to Sir Dominic by Sir Andrew and then withdrawn. I considered admonishing her but I must confess curiosity won the day as I recognised this to be the scroll Horstman had charged me with delivery to Sir Dominic just prior to his death. At the time it had been sealed but now I could see that it contained only the letters 'NMTFMHPCMCWTTRA' which meant nothing to Sir Dominic or anyone else at the table. Similarly the others could provide no more information on the supposed heroic act, beyond the fact that they had all thought themselves dead before waking in Palanthas weeks later with no memory of what had transpired. We also noticed for the first time that there was an inscription of some sort on the blade of the sword Sir Dominic guarded so zealously, though the writing could be recognised by neither mage nor scholar among us.

Realising that only further confusion lay ahead of us Sir Dominic requested that Sir Timothy & the others rejoin the group. At length a commotion could be heard outside the locked doors. A mage of the Order of Law finally burst in demanding that Azshauna return to the Tower of High Sorcery immediately to report to with Par-salian, Master of the Conclave of Wizards, with the three furious knights following swiftly behind him. Once Lady Azshauna was on her way I apologised for the swift & nimble fingers of the kender & returned the scroll to Sir Timothy. By this time Sir Dominic had also remembered his place and offered up Sir Thomas Pinchin's sword to Sir Andrew with his most humble apologies.

Although neither Sir Dominic nor any other could honestly attest the accuracy of the statement provided, he agreed to sign it as truth. Between his party's previous dealings with Horstman & my own we judged him to be an honourable soul, true to his word. Indeed is it not in the nature of the red mage & his ilk to be neutral in all things?

With the sword returned & the act of heroism confirmed Sir Andrew was the first to welcome Sir Dominic into the Order of the Sword. Drinks were served, toasts made & congratulations offered.