# A Demon Slayer's Tale



## Arknath (Nov 8, 2002)

Well met, all!  I would like to take the time to introduce my story hour to you all.  It is not based on a campaign I am running, but a campaign that I am in.  Seeing as how my DM has his hands full in preparing an awesome campaign (and believe me, after one session, I can’t wait for the next) I feel that, in order for him to keep it running smoothly, that I would take up the mantle of story-teller and instead leave him more time to plan our game.

Now, here is my short, albeit very detailed, introduction to our game.  I play a paladin character, whose name is Bocata Si Nik Nik (pronounced bow-CAH-TUH see Nick Nick), or Bocata for short.  He is a larcetan (pronounced LAR-si-TAN), a custom race of intlligent lizardmen that resemble 9-10 foot tall velociraptors and he worships the larcetan god of vengeance Oti Ni Nuad (OTEE-knee-NOOWAD).  His class breakdown is Paladin 8/Rager 6 (rager being a custom prestige class which gives worshippers of Oti Ni Nuad special vengeance-related abilities).

To sum the story up (I’ll let Bocata tell it from his perspective) Bocata was one of several people who received a dream six years ago about a wizard who wanted to kill him.  Not knowing why he met up with and travelled with a group of similarly threatened individuals and eventually met and destroyed the wizard.  Four years later, another wizard plagued Bocata’s life, this time, however, the wizard wanted total control of the island country Bocata had come to call his home, Xad N’asser (ZAHD nuh-SAYR).  This wizard unleashed a horde of demons and infested the island.  Bocata and his long time companions decided to meet this evil wizard and destroy him before the island was lost.  

The wizard proved too powerful and slew all of Bocata’s companions save himself and three others…his long time companion, a human female wizard named Laurel, a human rogue named Habback, and Laurel’s familiar were spared.  Bocata and Laurel where summarily plane shifted to the Abyss, where he promptly rescued Laurel and slew a demon lord.  Back home, he and Laurel met up with a group of adventurers in the Stormcrest Mountain region of Ersadia (our mainland continent) and he allied with them, quickly telling of his plight against the evil wizard of Xad N’asser, Zurich.  Bocata, seeking to resurrect some of his lost companions, returned to Xad N’asser with Laurel and a few companions he’d met.  However, rage at the loss of his friends took him and he slew three of the cities guards…only to be sentenced to protect the city for a government he hated for one year.  His tale starts here…

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(Direct excerpt from Bocata Si Nik Nik's memoir's, "The Rise and Fall of Zurich the Hated")

Long have I waited for this day.  It seems as though I have been living a continuous, torturous existence marked by painful reminders of my own failure.  What ill judgment made me forget where I was and cause me to attack the Red Watchers?  Wiser larcetan would have stayed their hand, but I did not.  But what use is wisdom not gained at your own expense?  It is a bauble compared to living through your own experiences.  It is here and now, that I shall tell you my tale…and the experiences that have made me wiser indeed.

I would start with a bit of history, as all good tales do.  I have come from the Ivory Valley, on the mainland of Ersadia.  My people live in quiet peace and have for centuries before the others came.  By others I mean elves and dwarves and humans, those who are not native to our world but seem to think that they own it.  I was born to a warrior and his 3rd wife thirty-four summers ago.  It seems as though that part of my life is a blur, constant training and schooling in the ways of my lord, Oti Ni Nuad.  In 20 years I was finally elevated to the status of _Erkka Kel_, or Fury Knight in the common tongue.  I suppose the humans have a name for one of my rank, although they would place some meager name like paladin upon my ilk and me.  

From there I went out into the wide world, in search of a final quest that would prove my loyalty to The Hunter (as we call Oti Ni Nuad at times).  I was met by a strange dream one night, a sign from the Fury that my quest had come.  I travelled to the isle of Xad N’asser and there met up with some strange bedfellows indeed.  I saw three humans and a caanid, a canine race of sorcerers that live not far from my homelands.  We are at peace with the caanids last I heard, though ancient wars and territorial battles have been known to ensue between our peoples.  With them I travelled and came to the end of my quest. With their aid, we defeated the wizard Van D’Luk.

After that adventure, I set up shop on Xad N’asser in the city of Ladoon.  For four years I went about my work and rarely saw my old friends.  After many strange messages and mysterous threats, I was once again reunited with them, this time…in search of Zurich, the Archmage.  We fought many battles and won nearly all of them.  I say nearly, for in the last battle I had with my dearest friends, the were all slain or teleported away to distant lands.  I was sent to the Abyss, where many of my compatriots had been sent before.  During the final battle, we had slain a demon known as “the Vile Death”.  When I was teleported there, I faced him yet again, this time alone.  

As you may guess, I sit here now and tell you I triumphed over that fiend and returned home, the human wizardess in tow.  It has been 18 months since that fateful day, and it still stings my heart and head, but I live on.  Today is the first day of my regained freedom.  Today begins the fall of Zurich.


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## Rybaer (Nov 8, 2002)

Interesting character concept...a 9' tall velociraptorish paladin.  I'd be curious to see any info you have on the larcetan race.


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## Arknath (Nov 8, 2002)

*Larcetan race*

Sure thing!  How would you like to receive it? Email?  You can contact me at gemguard@hotmail.com if that's the case.

The concept was something I thought of after watching Jurassic Park (yeah, the race is actually ten years old) and thought that they would make an interesting race.  Their culture is somewhat dwarvish (they love the forge) and yet they are barbaric and savage at the same time.  However, most of them are good at heart and have strict codes that they follow.  This being the case, their favored class is paladin.


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## Sniktch (Nov 8, 2002)

Arknath, did you ever play on a MUD called Astaria?  They have a race of tall muscular lizardfolk called lacertains who also made excellent paladins.  Just curious, but your larcetans are very similar to the lacertain, so I thought I would ask.

P.S.  If you have played on Astaria before, do you have any idea if it is back up and running?  I haven't been able to log on for months now


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## Arknath (Nov 8, 2002)

*Wow...remarkable..*

Sniktch,

Are you serious? Wow!  That's really weird...I basically came up with the idea after watching JP, as I said before, but the name of the race was taken from the latin word for lizard, _lacerta_.  I just moved the letters around a bit and added an 'n' and viola!

I also picked the favored class paladin because I saw that no race had that yet...and thought that it went with their "noble-yet-closed-minded" society.  In truth, if you want to know another reason I picked paladin was because of the Forgotten Realms character Dragonbait...I did get some inspiration from the saurials (larcetan communicate by smell much as the saurials do) so the idea isn't TOTALLY original.

Where might I find this MUD? I'd like to see what kind of characters they have.  I thought I had an original idea for once...LOL...ah well...I'll probably be putting Bocata up in the Rogue's Gallery later on today...just so you can see what kind of stuff he's got and what kind of character he is.


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## Sniktch (Nov 8, 2002)

I wish I knew where you could find the MUD, as I'm going into withdrawal and don't really want to expend time and effort building myself on a new one.

They had server problems several months ago and told us all they'd be back as soon as they had a new server... I haven't heard anything yet, and I have a psionicist that is itching to hunt.

Be interesting to see where your story goes.  I can identify with the main character since I also loved Dragonbait and since my best character on Astaria was a lacertain paladin.  I'm looking forward to some more character detail and interaction as you move forward in the campaign.


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## Arknath (Nov 9, 2002)

*A new friend*

In order to properly tell my tale, I must begin a few days prior to my release.  I was relieved of my guard duty walking to a local tavern to wipe away the foul taste in my mouth from serving a tyrant.  This is when a man approached me in the middle of the street. ‘Strange,’ I mused, ‘most try to avoid me if it is quite possible.’  Something about this man seemed different.  His face was a mask of calm, peacefulness and he was dressed in simple travelling clothes.  His gait as he strode up to me was confident and unwavering.

“Well met…Bocata Si Nik Nik,” he mumbled his greeting.  “I have been looking for you for quite some time.”

It was no surprise he knew my name.  To my knowledge I was the only larcetan on Xad Nasser, which made it nigh impossible for me to hide – which I rarely do.  More than likely it was my magically enlarged form that was unmistakable, standing nearly 15’ tall and weighing the better half of a merchant’s ton.  A gift from my close friend Lord Leafwalker Oakenpaw.

I did not break my stride, uninterested in anything he or any others had to say to me in this city.  I had my own thoughts to consider that night.  He broke into a trot and kept pace with me, though he was nearly running with the effort.

“I come on a quest at the behest of my lord,” said he, “I am to be your protector.”

I stopped in my tracks, and turned to the man looking down upon him with an incredulous look in my eyes.

“You?  Protect me?  Your lord is a fool and so are you if you think that I need any protection that you can give me.”  I sneered at him, in a foul mood because of my current plight made only worse by the simple fact that I was to be released two days hence.

“Ah, Acris is no fool,” he sneered back, “and if you are wise, you will listen to what I have to say.”

I must say I was impressed by the man’s bravery.  Most would have cringed from me and ran into the night like some small child frightened by a shadow.  I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.  All I could mutter at that remark was “Do tell.”

“I am Archivell of Acris,” he bowed low as he said this, “and my lord bid me watch over you.” I cringed at the name Acris.  I knew it, God of Pain and Suffering, although not wholly evil by any means.  He causes pain as often as he alleives it.  

 “You are far greater in your reputation than you give yourself credit for.” Archivell smiled, pleased with himself that he had gained my attention so quickly.  Again, I winced reflexively.  My reputation would have to fade away if I was to carry on with my plans.

“By his grace,” the little man continued, “he has given me the power to bond to you and keep you from pain, physical and mental.  He believes you are to do great things.”  

The look of calm serenity on his face put me at ease, and I used my Fury-given sight to discover his heart, and he yet held no evil will.  I studied him a moment longer, probing deeper into his feelings and finding nothing that would brand him with suspicion from my mind.

“I will not accept your offer unless you meet some friends of mine first.” I growled.  If his intentions were noble, he would not balk at the chance to prove his loyalty to me.  “Then, they will use whatever devices they deem necessary to discover your mind and heart.  Do you agree?”

He hesitated a bit but nodded in agreement.  “Follow me,” was all I said to him in reply to his motion.  He did as he was told.

I found my friends Laurel and Jonas, speaking with companions and friends of their own over a few drinks, in our favorite tavern and asked to speak with them outside.  Jonas made some sort of remark about “the great Bocata wishes to speak to me” to his companions at the table.  I still try to decipher if it was his dry sense of humor or merely a shocking revelation to impress those he calls friends. Laurel, dear Laurel, came without a word.

When we had reached the outer parts of the building I introduced Jonas and Laurel to Archivell.

“He is to accompany us on our journey to Paladium,” I informed the two, “but first I would have you probe his mind and heart to discern where his loyalties lay.”  I spoke freely and openly as if Archivell were not present.  Even without my weapons and armor, the only parts of my life I hold dearer than Laurel, I felt confident in my boldness and fighting ability should he turn hostile towards us.

Laurel studied him up and down for a moment before speaking to the man.  Jonas quietly listened on.

“Would you mind a probing spell?” Laurel asked the priest, “It will not hurt you.”

Archivell looked a bit nervous, I must admit, but he nodded his agreement and Laurel went to work probing his thoughts.  

Laurel is a dear companion, though she practices the art of magery.  I do not hold that against her for she has used it more times than I can count to save my life, so I question her not.  She is, however, the closest I’ve ever been to having a sister, I believe that is the common tongue word for a female sibling.  We have been through death, destruction, happiness and victory together and I would die for her or beside her, trusting her with my very life.  It was she who pulled me away from Zurich’s castle to safety, and for that I owe her my undying allegience.

After several, long minutes of concentrating and watching Archivell open his mind to Laurel, she opened her near-almond shaped eyes and declared that she saw no evil intent in his mind.  Later, however, she disclosed to me that she had only searched his present thoughts, not those that were deep down.

After her attempt, Jonas stepped forward with a strange look upon his face.  He sized Archivell up quickly, seeing something that he thought familiar in him. 

“Archivell…” the bard muttered under his breath, but still audible for others to hear, “Archivell…that name sounds familiar.  Do I know you?”

I raised yet another eyebrow at Archivell in sudden suspicion.  Either the priest was lying to us or Jonas’ worldliness surpassed even my newfound knowledge of the bard.

Jonas was a respectable bard in his day, or so he tells.  Frankly I have never heard of the man nor care too much for his art.  He sings ballads of patriotism to Xad Nasser, and they please my auditory senses immensely, so I spare him my opinion about the other noise he makes.  Granted his kind are thought of poorly where I come from, being weak both with the sword and the land, but there are enough to keep us entertained by the fireside on long winter nights.  Jonas came to me only a few nights before, but for some reason I trusted the man more than I trusted any in my life, save Laurel

Jonas spoke again, “I’m going to go a little deeper than the lady mage just did, do you mind it?”  It was at this that Archivell almost lost his patience.  A small grunt from me had him back to his cool demeanor.

“Of course not, master bard,” he said through a tight smile.

Jonas approached the man in such a way that I thought he would embrace him in a lover’s kiss.  The bard and priest were nose-to-nose before Jonas stopped his forward progress.  Just then, that wonderful thing called magic surprised me yet again as multicolored rays of light shot forth from Jonas’ eyes and into Archivell’s own orbs.  I had never seen anything like it and turned to look at Laurel in shock.  She merely nodded her assent and gave me that wink she does when I have that look upon my face.  I let off a sent of spring flowers to let her know my confusion.

Larcetan emit scents to one another when the time for talk has passed.  Not that anyone who is not a larcetan can hear our high-pitched voices. Of course, there are those of us, like myself, who have purchased magic collars that allow us to speak in tones and languages that others can hear and understand.  But the larcetan scent-language is one we hold sacred and do not teach to any, save our closest companions.  I have taught Laurel this language as proof of how much she means to me.

Jonas and the priest stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes.  Growing impatient I began to talk to Laurel.

“Do you see him as being a trustworthy companion?” I asked her in hushed tones.  It was far from my fear that the priest would hear, but more out of courtesy to Jonas so that he could concentrate on his spell.

“I believe him to be good at heart,” she said softly, “but you know I’m not an inquisitor, Bocata.  My judgment of such creatures is sometimes flawed.”  She turned away suddenly as if she had just stumbled upon a lost memory that brought her pain.

“I believe that as well,” I said, ignoring her pained look and allowing her the dignity to let it pass, “he appears to have no fear of me, which is an admirable trait in and of itself.”

Laurel turned back towards me and looked at me with a smirk, “Do all who stand before the mighty Bocata tremble at his presence?” 

I glanced down at her small, fragile frame, “Not all, but those who stand against me are more stout of heart than those who do not.”  There was no mirth upon my face.

Laurel rolled her almond-shaped eyes at me, “Some day, Bocata, you’ll learn humility and then be the better for it.”  She turned back to watch Jonas as he began to back away from Archivell.

‘Some day indeed.’ I thought to myself. ‘Let us pray that it is soon.’  Little did I know that my wish for humility would come sooner than expected and from a very unlikely source.


_As a side note, here are a few things about the PC's mentioned in this post:

Laurel is a 14th level specialist wizard.  In our world we have created a few new schools of magic and so she has decided to help us playtest one school.  She is called a Canticle, for her study is in sonic spells and spells that manipulate sound.

Jonas is a 16th level bard that Bocata has recently befriended.  He doesn't know much about the man, but he is already very impressed with Jonas' resourcefulness.

Also, I have posted Bocata as he currently is statted out in the Rogue's Gallery if any would like to take a peek.  I also have the details of the Rager prestige class if anyone is interested in looking at it.

Hope you enjoyed this update!_


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## Rybaer (Nov 9, 2002)

*Re: Larcetan race*



			
				Arknath said:
			
		

> *Sure thing!  How would you like to receive it? Email?  You can contact me at gemguard@hotmail.com if that's the case.
> *





If you want to post it with the character writeup in the Rogue's gallery, that'd be cool.  Email is also fine (in my user profile).  Wouldn't mind seeing the Rager class as well.

Thanks!  Looking forward to more.


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## Vadicus (Nov 9, 2002)

*DM here...*

Bocata is...well Arknath described it best..."close-minded".  He has come far, to date, but he still has lessons that need to be learned.  When he grasps these concepts, a veil will be lifted from his eyes and he will see civilization and life as it really is: diverse in ways too numerous to detail in this post.


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## Arknath (Nov 9, 2002)

*Larcetan race and Rager class*

Both of these are on display in the Rogue's Gallery...however, if you would like a Word copy of them, please let me know...hopefully i'll have another update before the weekend is out.


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## Jeremy (Nov 9, 2002)

Laurel is dear to Bocata in many ways, not the least of which, she's the only one still with him.

Van was killed and reincarnated as Gan whom I believe was killed and had his soul stolen.  Delitrias fled the carnage for a quieter life away from politics on the icy islands of the north.  Habback seemingly switched teams, but in reality, Habback was always on his own team.  Leafwalker and Po were disintegrated.

Nothing remained of those who had seen him through the iron golems, the destruction of the doom device, the contract assassins who had killed and animated Laurel and forced Bocata to blast her at one point into oblivion, the stand against the horde outside the City of Swords...

Nothing save Laurel.

Leafwalker took on an alias and is attempting to help from the sidelines with political clout.  Habback is doing the same though making more money at it and advancing his own goals just as fast (or more likely faster).  Po was never returned to life.  The soul gem holds his other travelling companion.

So yes, those two are close.  At least Bocata still has his heritage, his trade, and his vengeance to hold onto.  Laurel is somewhat adrift.  Bocata is her center and her life.  Outside of burying herself in study of magic, she has nothing else left in the world.


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## Arknath (Nov 9, 2002)

*Gaming partners*

Vadicus (the DM) and Jeremy (playing a cleric I have yet to introduce) are players in the same group as I.  Vadicus has done a wonderful job in the first session of this new campaign and Jeremy's character, as you will see soon enough through the eyes of a big lizard, has a very cool concept behind him.  Unfortunately, he's a little crazy and Bocata won't have much to say about him for a while simply because the crazy priest doesn't say much that makes sense. 

Thanks guys for your comments and support!


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## Laurel Silverblade (Nov 11, 2002)

*Through the eyes of a Scholar*

All hail!  As you can see, I play the character of Laurel Silverblade.    Sort of in reply to the Bocata-mania, I would like to write a bit about Laurel and let you all know where she is from and some of her thoughts and opinions.  She was actually my very first character concept when I was introduced to D&D.  I didn't play for a very long time after my first game with my old group, then I met Arknath and picked up the game again.  It was after a few months of gaming that I had the opportunity to reintroduce Laurel.  Mind you, none of my group was there when I created Laurel for the first time, so I had more of the opportunity to let her grow more as a person.  Appearence wise, Laurel looks like Rebecca De Mornay in The Three Musketeers.   Blonde hair, blue eyes, and beautiful wardrobe(when at all possible).
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Memory: It was a sunny day out and I sat alone in my study, much to the dismay of mother and father.  I was the only child of the Silverblade clan and it appeared to them and to me that the family tradition of our unique style of swordplay as well as the name would die with me.  I was neither the boy they wanted nor the strong, agile tomboy they would have settled for.  I was too wrapped up in my study of magic.  

I heard my father outside my window torturing the young squires that idolized him with that chunk of metal they call a sword.  The dull clank of steel grated on my nerves, but I suppose that is why they chose that particular window to be near while they made all that racket.  It was just my father's way of trying to get me to come outside and challenge him.  He had attempted when I was young to put steel in my hands and teach me how to use it, but to no avail.  I was too weak, too frail, and constantly got hurt, so I turned to academic study. 

After my father grew tired of smacking around the foolish boys that tailed him,  he promptly came inside to deliver some news with obvious relish.   I remember the door to my study, how it opened so slowly to the tidings Lord Silverblade brought.  "You are no longer welcome in this home.  Take your parchment and books and begone from here," he said with a smirk.  I looked to my mother, but she only looked away.  I was turned out on the street with nothing but the precious few coins that I was given and the few belongings that I held dear: parchment, a couple of books and the clothes that I wore that day.  With those things I fled the City of Swords and everything that I had ever known.


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## Arknath (Nov 11, 2002)

*A Gathering of Allies (Part 1)*

The day of my release was a long awaited one.  After a year of brooding, thinking, and plotting I am finally free to put my plans into action.  However, the first thing I was going to do was retrieve my armor.

“Your service is up and you have served your sentence.” A man of station informed Laurel, our troll companion Schmuck, and his gorillon companion Braegleoth, and myself as we stood in the great hall of the city.  I believe his name is Samwell Goodheart.

“We hope you have seen the error of your ways and hope you are to become law-abiding citizens of Xad Nasser once again.”  He lay the scroll down and another, lesser man rolled it up and put it away.  Goodheart called for the next case.

The four of us were shuffled out into the daylight, which seemed different to me than before I entered the city hall.

”So that was it?” Laurel smirked.  “Just a 5 minute reading and reprimand and we’re out?  Hardly seems worth a year of servitude.”

“The less I hear come from the mouths of the so-called government here the better.” I retorted seeing a friendly face approaching us from the hall.  “It seems that we are to be on our way promptly.”  I motioned to Lord Nymn, who was quickly approaching our location.

“I have your things at my manse,” he said quickly, “I know you desire to be on the road south soon.”  

Nymn is an excitable fellow whom seems more about his mouth and less about his wits than I am used to.  Of course, he is cavorting with Lord Habback who was always the fast-talker in my opinion.

“Lead on.” I bade Nymn, for I did wish to be on the road south very soon.

He lead the four of us across town and to the mansion he called home.  I dare not count the stares and looks that we received in that long but tortuously slow trek.  Nymn seemed not in any hurry, and as I am wont to do, I tend to stride purposefully everywhere I travel.  Nymn, bless his addled mind, talked about this and that as we strolled through the town.  I understand that one must find friends where they may, but even some prices are difficult to pay, ally or no.

On our way, a creature stepped from an alleyway to address us, or should I say me.  When I looked upon him in full, for he was one of my kindred, I stopped and peered at him for a long while.  Nymn, in his absent-minded babble, kept walking and hadn’t yet realized I had paused.  The creature let off a scent of greetings to me, and I returned it.  However, I grew suspicious when the male did not get to the point of his reason for stopping me.

“Hail and be known,” I said in common larcetanian greeting.  

I spoke the language of my people, which none around me could hear, save, I thought, this creature.  My suspicion grew tenfold when the creature looked at me dumb-founded as if it had no idea what I had just imparted on it.

“Speak and waste not my time,” I growled at it, for I was anxious to be on the road and out of this forsaken city.

The male made a gesture of frustration and bade me to wait.  Against my better judgment, and for pure curiosity’s sake, I stood.

He turned and went back down the alley.  I waited for what seemed to be some time and even heard that Nymn had finally turned to see if anyone was listening to him and realized that none followed him aNymnore.

A minute or more went by.  I grunted as I was fed up with this waiting game when, just as I was about to leave, a small gnome came from the alleyway where my kindred had departed.

“Bocata Si Nik Nik, I presume?” the little creature asked, looking up at my towering form.

‘Damn my reputation’, I thought.  “Aye, and who are you, little one?”  I tried to answer with as much patience as my armor-crafting experience would allow.

“I am Rhen and I have searched for you for many months,” he said with a flourish, “and I wish to talk with you for a moment.”

I had had just about enough of this foolishness and was not quite sure where it was leading.  I looked back at the alleyway expecting the larcetan to show himself and so I could be rid of this little creature.  I glanced back down at the gnome.

“May I speak with you?” the creature asked tentatively.  The frustration on my face was apparent and I might have intimidated him a little more than I intended to.

“If you can keep up,” I muttered, and turned to follow Nymn who was starting to close the distance between our locations.  I’d be damned if I had to walk more steps with that one at my side than I had to. The gnome began what sounded like a protest, but I wasn’t around to hear the rest it if.  However, to my surprise, he did keep up.  

After finally reaching the home of Lord Nymn, he reached into a chest and produced our equipment, magic items and all.  I nearly wept when he pulled out my swords…

“The Hand and Shield of Oti Ni Nuad,” I said in a low voice, “how I have missed you.”

I swung the two blades in my hands, with practiced ease and intimate familiarity.  These blades were but unwrought mithril whence I created them.  Hard, misshapen chunks of precious metal that needed the caring touch of a skilled craftsmen.  Now they were magnificent pieces of artwork, one that my people would be proud of.  Of course, my mage-for-hire had enchanted the blades so that I would be better prepared for obstacles to come.

I looked at my host as he emptied my items in front of me.  I counted everything there and made sure all was in order.  However, my anger was apparent when I noticed that my armor was not in the chest.

“It is in the armoire, Bocata,” Nymn cooed, as if he had expected that reaction from me.  It would seem I’m becoming too predictable.

Without waiting for the master of the house to open his own closet, I walked to the door of his armoire and swung it open.  Here it was, my life’s work.  Rageskin, the barrier that protects the heart of Oti Ni Nuad’s most loyal servant.  I gently took it out, caressing the fine metal and tracing it with my finger tips as one might caress an old lover after a long month away at war.  After several refreshing minutes, I donned my plate mail armor and slid my swords in their respective scabbards.

“My thanks, Nymn,” I offered, reaching out a hand in order to properly show gratitude as is the human custom, “I could not ask for more of a friend than you.”

I believe there was a blush in the lord’s cheeks.  A strange thing that, blushing.  I am refreshed that no larcetan has ever had reason to do so.

“Your thanks are not needed, Bocata,” Nymn replied, taking my offered hand. “You are free at last, and we hope that you stay this way.”  He gave me a knowing nod.

I took the jab in stride.  A younger, less wise Bocata might have taken great offense at such words, but he is the reason I landed myself in this situation in the first place.  I nodded in agreement.

“Your kindness will not be forgotten,” Laurel spoke up from behind me.  “You are a true friend to be sure.”

A few more pleasantries and ‘thank you’s were exchanged.  Nymn offered to check in on us as often as he could to see how we fared.  When I told him that we were heading south to the city of Paladium, he swallowed hard.

“It is a ravaged land, you know,” he said, “One that has seen demons and devils char it to black ash.”  He posed pensively for a moment. “There is even talk of the undead walking around.  If they have not seized Paladium, they will be nearby trying to.”

I nodded my head, “I have arranged for a few of my friends to meet me outside the city.  Together, we shall vanquish the foes that besiege that town and restore it to its proper glory.”

Schmuck and Braegleoth opted to stay behind and work for Lord Nymn.  However, I do not doubt that I shall need the troll and the girallon’s aid in the near future.  Nor do I doubt that either will be hesitant to agree to any request I might make.

As we walked out of town, Rhen told me more of his powers.  He was able to shift shapes as often as he liked, though he was not restricted to natural animals.  The elder druids where I come from are capable of such feats of the body, but nothing to the magnitude that he could manifest.  

After a few hours of travel, Rhen noticed that we were not going in a southerly direction.

“I believe that you want to go a little more to your left, sir knight,” the gnome said.  “Paladium does not lie in the sea.”

I cast a sidelong glance at the little man, “I am aware of where Paladium is, sir…gnome.  However, I am meeting a friend outside the city of Ayr who will be traveling with us.”

All the little gnome would say in reply was “Oh.”


After four days of marching and resting little, we came upon the appointed meeting spot.  Jonas stepped out of the woods and hailed us.

“Greetings, master bard,” I said aloud, “Have you waited long?”

Jonas looked up at the sun and shook his head, “Only half a day.  I had some things of my own to take care of.” He spoke softer as he walked forwards.  “However, I do have some news for you.”

I am still amazed at the resourcefulness of this creature called Jonas.  I have not asked for any information, yet he seems to be a wealth of it.

“A column of 50 knights comes from the north,” he said, “they look to hail from Hammerfell.”

Knights?  What business would a column of knights have moving about in a time of peace?  I chuckled inwardly at this.  One could hardly call this peace, in my book, but that is another discussion.

“Friend or foe?” I asked.  

“I believe that they are friendly,” Jonas replied, “Sir Oden leads them.  He is a respectable knight and paladin to Equitas*.  I think we might have an ally in him.”

I grinned.  A paladin!  What luck!  And with a cadre of 49 knights behind him.  This is good news indeed.  I could not ask for a better start to my campaign.

“Can you play herald to them, Jonas?”  I asked, “We would like to enlist their aid, perhaps, and we need to be diplomatic about this.  I fear that diplomacy is not my strong point.”

“I have heard of your attempts at diplomacy, good knight,” Jonas chuckled, “and I have to say that some are good with swords, but others can wield words with far more potency.”  Jonas laughed at his own joke.

I shrugged nonchalantly.  “That may be true, sir bard.  But let it be known that those who use words in such a way often find them hard to come by when the used of their mouth is denied by steel.”  It wasn’t a challenge, just an observation.

Jonas returned my shrug and made out to the northeast, where he would meet with the column of knights when they turned for Ladoon.  

“I shall go with you,” I told him, “it seems as though these people share my mind and views.  I will speak to Sir Oden.”

As Jonas and I started towards the road between Ayr and Ladoon, Laurel called to me.

“I will be in the forest,” she said, “I have something to take care of.”

I looked at her quizzically.  All she could offer was a slight nod of her head and a sad look in her eyes.  I knew instantly what she was doing, then.  She was trying to replace Damien** and I knew it was going to be tough for her.

“Archivell,” I looked toward the priest, “have the food ready upon our return.”

He looked at me hopelessly, “I have no means of hunting food, lord.  But I am a fairly decent cook.”

Rhen chimed up then, “I will find us food.”

Just then, the little gnome’s bones begin to bend and break in unusual ways.  He grew in size and apparent strength.  He also grew more hideous as he grew taller.  In a matter of a few short seconds this shapechanger turned himself into an ogre.  Then, as if nothing had just happened, he went traipsing off into the forest looking for food.

“Keep an eye on Laurel.” I called after him.  He grunted his understanding.

“Let us go, Jonas,” I said to the bard, “I am locked up for a year and the world goes to hell in a handbasket.”

_*Equitas is the god of justice in our world._
_**Damien was Laurel's last familiar.  It has been 18 months since her loss and she's greived the entire time.  Bocata realizes that summoning a new is necessary, but difficult.  He laments the loss of his own mount._


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## Velenne (Nov 12, 2002)

Hello everyone! That's me playing Jonas. 

To give everyone somewhat of a background on him:

Jonas was the son of a wealthy merchant who longed to be out of his home and a part of the world.  He was pure misery on his father -always getting into trouble and disregarding the law and household rules.  So when the day came that he demanded his inheritance, his father reluctantly gave it in the hope of gaining some measure of peace and that his son would learn the value of prudence out in the world.

Jonas had squandered most of his money before finding the love of his life.  Settling down in a large city and opening a tavern with what he had left (plus a large loan from her father), he started a family and thought all was well in the world.  

He used his buisness savvy to turn his wretched little tavern into a successful and well-respected establishment, even performing from time to time on stage.  Yet his world came crumbling down upon discovering his wife's adulterous affair.  It seemed that their bed had grown too cold for her during his extended trips to nearby cities.  

He left in the night without a word.

He began travelling then, falling back on his performances to earn enough money for food.   Yet his cleverness prevailed once more and he found he actually had quite the talent as a bard.  His fame spread slowly at first, but exploded after a royal contest.  He became famous for his patriotic music and played for many nobles and even kings.  

Then, just as he did before, he vanished without a word.

Jonas has only recently reappeared, nearly twenty years later.  The years seem to have been good to the bard, for his skill (it is said) is nearly unmatched in Xad'Nasser.  He claims to have studied under master bards in the mainland Ersadia.  All too quickly, he has caught up on the local lore, reestablished his contacts, and returned to the spotlight.

While he still plays his old patriotic music, he most revels in his many new songs which he plays for various courts and well-to-do individuals.  Secretly however, the state of his homeland saddens him.  For one, half of it has been destroyed.  What is left is under the control of a tyrant who puts undead enforcers in the streets.  He has waited for the release of Bocata and Laurel in the hopes that they have plans and contacts who can return his beloved home to its former grace.


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## Velenne (Nov 12, 2002)

Here's a pic of Jonas. 

Edit: Image now posted in the Rogue's Gallery


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## Vadicus (Nov 12, 2002)

*Laurel*

Nice job   I remember those days...  Dad was not a nice guy.


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## Arknath (Nov 12, 2002)

How is the story turning out so far?  It is a little slow to start, but wait until we get to Paladium...


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## Calim (Nov 12, 2002)

Sounds great so far man wanted to sign in and set Rhen on his way as well

I am playing Rhen a human from the city of Epstyl.  He is shifter who has managed to become very good at what he does for a living and a life.  He is a bit of an experience junkie.  He knows that he was born into the wrong body and the gods have given him the opportunity to find the body for himself.  

His native city of Epstyl has recently been overrun with things that are trying to enforce the law where the law did not exist before.  he being the experience Junkie he is he tried to study them well enough to become one, after all who knew maybe Rhen was supposed to be one of these.  Then in the process of studying to become one something occured that Rhen had never seen before, the law was enforced and someone died because of it.  

This was something very unsettling to Rhen, nothing like this is supposed to happen at home it is supposed to be safe and everyone is supposed to go along and be happy, then these things came.  Rhen had to leave he could not stay around this maybe he could find somebody better able to deal with this maybe he could find someone in Ayr or the City of Swords.  

While he was about he kept hearing of tale being told by many people and once by himself to earn some money for a night's stay in an inn, about a lizard and some others who had stood against this new law person Zurich.  Maybe he could find this Lizard named Bocata and see if he could help.


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## Arknath (Nov 12, 2002)

*Laurel in the Rogue's Gallery*

For those of you interested, Laurel is now in the Rogue's Gallery


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## Vadicus (Nov 12, 2002)

*Sounds good.*

Keep it coming.


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## Arknath (Nov 15, 2002)

*A Gathering of Allies (Part 2)*

When we found the road again, Jonas surmised that we were still a half hour ahead of our intended targets.  I sat with him for a short while and we discussed what these knights might be like.

“If all accounts hold true,” the bard stated, “the knights of Hammerfell were amongst the best fighters when the island was infested.”

I nodded in agreement.  “I, too, have heard of the valor of Hammerfellan knights, but have never heard of Sir Oden since I have come to Xad’Nasser.”

Just then, a loud noise of jostling steel met our ears.  Jonas had a confused look upon his face, but I know the sound of steel barding on a mounted horse when I hear it.  Shortly thereafter, a column of magnificently arrayed knights, mounted on large warhorses crested the hill.  The sun sparkled on their gleaming suits and I found myself eager to rush out and inspect the craftsmanship of such a splendid looking armor.  However, to decrease the shock value of my wish to speak with these men, I elected to let Jonas do the talking while I merely waited for an introduction.

“It seems that you will know more about him soon enough,” the bard chuckled to himself.  “I shall see if I can strike a parlay with them and find out whether they are friend or foe.”

I nodded my agreement (I’m agreeing quite a bit with this bard, am I losing my rough edge?) and watched him carefully pick his way out of the forest and onto the road to hail the knights.  

The lead knight, a splendidly armored human, held up a raised fist and the entire company (as one, might I add!) came to a complete halt approximately 30 feet from the road-blocking bard.  I saw that Jonas was speaking, but at this distance, even my talent for reading the lips of others failed in its efficiency.  After thinking Jonas asked for a roast duck and a shield, I became frustrated and stopped trying to discern the conversation.  One unmistakable motion that the bard made, however, was to point in my direction and raise his voice.  I could only think that he was calling my name and that I was being asked to step from the forest.

I strode proudly from the tree line as a proud larcetan warrior should.  I held the gaze of the lead knight on my approach, a sign of respect and understanding of equals in my lands, not this foolish human belief that to hold someone’s gaze is as challenging them.  When I stood in front of the company, and beside Jonas, I hailed the knight by name and bowed at the waist.  Again, only a warrior who has met his equal, or so he believes, makes such a gesture in my country.  Of course, I was astounded at the welcome that I received when my introductions and formalities where complete.

As one, Sir Oden, his companion, and the first three ranks of knights behind them, dismounted and kneeled before me in one swift movement.  The thunder of steel and the pretentiousness of it all would make any larcetan worth the forge he fires proud to have seen it.

“Greetings, Sir Oden,” I began, as diplomatically and unthreatening as I possibly could make it, “I trust your journey from Hammerfell gave you no trouble?”

Sir Oden looked at me and gave a quick nod of his head to the 48 men mounted and armored behind him, “It will be a cold day in Hell before a creature is born that is of low wits enough to attack a virtual army of paladins.”  His chuckle was genuine and I saw no mockery in his tone.

“And you, Sir Bocata Si Nik Nik,” he said with a salute, “I trust you are enjoying your new found freedom?”

“Quite well, actually.”  I said with a nod, “But I am not a knight yet, Sir Oden.  I have not earned the title nor been given it by any who have such right and privilege.”

Oden gave me a slight wink and crooked a smile, “Ah, good Bocata, but true knights are best exampled by their valor on the field of battle and the courage in their hearts, do you not agree?”

I shrugged noncomittingly, “If that were so, Sir Oden,” I said, measuring my response, “Then there are far more men and larcetan that deserve knighthood than I.”  I gave a small laugh, “And they do not even seek it.”

Oden nodded his consent.  “Where is your destination?” he asked bluntly, “For surely you did not come this far west to volley pretty words and formalities with the likes of me and my men.”

I was beginning to like this man’s attitude with every word he spoke.

“We are destined for Paladium,” I replied, “We seek to rebuild it.”

Oden’s eyes went wide, “We are also heading to the lost City of Paladins,” he said with a gesture to his men.  “We were to stop in Ayr and receive church funded transportation via teleport.”

“We were to take the long way around.  To see who and what we could find for our cause along the way.”  I said.

Oden looked at me with a great curiousness, “You would bring craftsmen and artisans to a city that is rife with undead?” He asked with an incredulous look upon his face.

“We were not yet sure whether the city had fallen to the likes of them,” I said with another shrug, “it seemed only a trivial thing at best.”

“By all accounts, there are nightwalkers that storm the city, yet for some strange reason it still holds against their advances.”  Sir Oden proclaimed with some confidence.

“How do you know this,” Jonas piped up.  I’d almost forgotten that the bard was there.

“We have divined the ruins and see that there are a mass of undead around the city, but they do not go into certain parts of it.  This is why we mustered 50 of our best men, myself included, to weed out the false citizens of Paladium and reclaim the city.”  

I thought on this for a moment.  Surely it was a sending from Oti Ni Nuad himself that led Sir Oden to me before I went charging headlong into battle one more time.  This time, I may not have escaped with my life.

“What exactly are ‘nightwalkers’?”  I asked the Lord Paladin.  “I’ve never encountered their type before.”

“They are one of the worst forms of undead known,” he said with a grim face, “they are bigger than even you, Bocata, and have great powers that can drain your life away with a touch.”

This is a most definite sign from my Lord the Hunter.  He is trying to teach me patience…and that is a hard lesson for me to learn.

“Will you come with us to our camp,” I asked of the lord paladin.  “We are preparing food and will more than likely have plenty to go round.”

“Nay,” said Oden, “my men wish to sleep on a soft bed one more night before we ride into battle on the morrow.  I do not blame them, for they all may not return to Hammerfell.”

“However,” he added, “I would join you and talk about other things.  If we are to be companions in battle, Bocata, I would learn if the legends are true and would discuss other…,” he looked casually to either side of us, moving only his eyes, “more private matters.”

I nodded in whole-hearted agreement.  “I will see you in the camp,” I said as I bowed low again, “Just enter the forest and I will have an agent come to meet you.”

Sir Oden clenched his fist and held it against his heart in salute.  “To you a safe journey,” he said with a smile and a turn of his horse, “and also to your luck at finding the choicest of meals for our first dinner together.”  He laughed and commanded his men, again, turning in unison on their mounts, and ordered them to march directly west, to the city of Ayr.


It was some time later that eve when Sir Oden and his mount returned to our presence.  Jonas and I were busy detailing plans on how to rebuild the city and what forms of commerce and trade we might be able to take up to earn a great amount of gold.  

Enough gold to fund a war.

When Sir Oden strode into camp, I reached out (and down) to clamp onto his arm in greetings.  Jonas stood and did likewise.  I invited the lord paladin to sit and sup with us.

“What is your real reason for traveling out of your homeland,” I asked, pushing all pretenses aside.  “Surely your kingdom would aide in a cause if it would fill their coffers and increase their subjects.”

Sir Oden nodded.  “Aye, it is a personal mission that I take, and no other.”  He scooped some of the excellent stew that Rhen and Archivell had made for the company into a wooden bowl as he spoke.  “I would see the City of Paladins restored to its former glory.”

Again, he glanced around and spoke, “It would suit me nicely to start my very own kingdom in the south.  One that prospered and used law to rule.”

I nodded my agreement, taking measure of this human who seemed to view the world in an equal way to my own.

“I, unlike yourself, do not specialize in running kingdoms,” I said with a slight grin to my lizard-like face, “I specialize in breaking them.”

Sir Oden, always the one for secrecy, gave a slight nod and a wink, “It is not wise to talk of such things so close to Ayr.” He warned.  “It is not known for certain where Zurich is.”

I felt the fool for having spoken so openly about the downfall of the current kingdom, and so close to the capital city!  I was silent for a bit as I considered his words.

“You are correct, lord paladin,” I said, “we should speak of our kingdom and how we intend to make it just and profitable.”

For many more hours, we sat in discussion of how our finances would be arranged.  It turned out, and not too surprisingly, that Jonas was somewhat wise in the ways of finance and money-handling.  I began to wonder if I wasn’t trusting this bard with this information too much, and thus I tried to appear unimpressed with his claims.  However, I truly was very impressed.

When it was time to put the campfire out, I surveyed those in the circle of the fire’s light.  I did not see Laurel.

“Rhen,” I called softly, “Rhen, have you seen Laurel?”

The ogre that was Rhen turned and nodded in my direction.  “She was but a few hundred steps in the easterly direction about half an hour ago.”

I breathed a small sigh of relief.  “Keep the watch, can you?”  I was feeling tired from my four-day trek and needed some rest soon.

He nodded and went back to watching the forest, not saying a word.  I nodded off to sleep and dreamt of slaying undead.


When we awoke, Laurel was in the encampment packed and ready to go.  She seemed fully rested if not a little sad.

I stole up to her when the rest of us began packing.  “How did it go?”  I asked softly, knowing that it still pained her to have to do what she did.

She shrugged, “As well as can be expected, I suppose.  We will see what the new day brings.”

The six of us set out to the city of Ayr, where Oden’s men were waiting for us to arrive so that we could all teleport to Paladium.  As we entered the city, I wondered if I should enter it in the form of another creature, so that my whereabouts wouldn’t be known.  It was absurd of me to think, however, because wizardly and clerical magic can discern the location of just about anything.  So, I did not bother to request a form change.

Oden paid for all transports (including those that were with Laurel and I) and we all reached the outskirts of Paladium ready for battle.  However, the land was much worse than we ever could have dreamed.  The tales of the southland were not descriptive enough.

The ground was as black as ash left from a great fire and not a tree lived within eyesight.  The air had a charred, burnt smell to it and one could see particles of dust floating all about in the air.  However, nothing compared to the awesome sight of the undead horde that held the city of Paladium under siege.

There must have been several hundreds of them, some powerful, some weak.  The Fury was with us, that day, for none of them seemed to be interested in the arrival of 55 armed and battle-ready adventurers but several hundred steps to their south.

I turned to Oden and simply asked, “Now what?”

Oden donned his helmet, closed his visor, and lowered his lance.  “We charge!”

_Incedentally, I got several good suggestions for the Rager prestige class and how to rework it so that it was more balanced and playable.  I have updated that and the stat block for Bocata in the Rogue's Gallery if you care to look.  Enjoy the update!_


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## Vadicus (Nov 20, 2002)

BUMP


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## Arknath (Nov 21, 2002)

*Paladium: A City Under Siege*

“Wait!” I yelled as loud as I could after Oden and his men charged towards the town.  The captain apparently could not hear me over the din of 50 horses charging headlong into battle.

The fact that he was also high in the air on his winged mount, a griffon, was also a hindrance in his hearing my words.

I turned to Laurel, Rhen, Jonas and Archivell and said frantically, “This is not the way to do this, we must stop them!”

Rhen turned a silent eye towards the charging knights and nodded, “I’ll stop them.”  Bones cracked and skin changed and soon a golden-skinned, winged creature stood tall before me.

‘A planatar?’ I mused to myself, ‘I hope he has a good idea.’

The shapeshifter flew off after the charging miasma of horse and man.  Of course, that left the four of us standing there with little to do but watch.

“We need to get to that town,” I said, “Does anyone have any ideas?”

Laurel thought for a moment and twiddled her fingers and spoke some words of power.  Soon, the four of us were lifting off the ground and flying towards the town, easily outdistancing the shifter and the charging paladins.

As we approached the town through the air, I nearly choked at the vision I saw.  The temple was in ruins, the buildings were either badly damaged or completely destroyed.  Worst of all, what appeared to be a five-story statue of a man was missing half of the statue from the waist up.  This could only be the fabled statue of Optimen* that arose from the temple’s judicatory.  

Throughout the town we saw hordes of skeletons, zombies and worse things crawling all over the city wreaking havoc on just about everything they encountered.  There were also small pebbles that were being hurled at us from unseen assailants as we neared the town’s innermost buildings.  It seemed as though the very air around us did not want us around.  That was when we saw a man waving at us from the tower of the temple in a frantic manner.

I pointed this man out to my companions and we aimed our flight towards him.  As soon as we were close enough, I invoked my Fury-given power to discern this man’s heart, which proved to be good natured.  He was not undead, that much was for certain, and he appeared haggard and dirty as though he had seen many months with not so much as a tub of water nor something sharp to shave his face with.  However, I will never forget the look in the man’s eyes as I touched down with my companions in front of him.  It is a look that, if one lives long enough to see it, it brings purpose to one’s life and renewed faith in good-hearted folk.

It was the look of hope regained when all else was lost.

“Greetings,” I spoke to the man in a formal manner, “I am Bocata Si Nik Nik.  We are come to aid you in the reclaiming and rebuilding of Paladium.  What is your name, man?”

The weak man seemed as though he would pass out from sheer joy and thankfulness, “I am Anselm, good Bocata,” he wheezed, “Welcome to Paladium.”

It was then that the man passed out.  Whether from sheer exhaustion or from the hope of independence regained, I have yet to figure out which.

“Let’s get him down from here,” Jonas said quickly, scooping up the young priest in his arms and heading for the stairs, “Tis not a fit night out for man nor beast.”

I furrowed my brow at that last comment, unsure of it’s intended target.  This bard’s humor was going to be something to get used to.


It was some time before the young priest came to and was able to form intelligible words on his own.  Jonas worked with him to discover that he and his master were the lone survivors of the fiendish attack on Paladium.  When asked where his master was, Sir Anselm (as I discovered later was his official title) told us that his master was resting.

“Why do the undead not attack you?” Laurel asked when Anselm had had a bit of trail rations and some cool water at Jonas’ behest.  “They seem not to be able to reach certain parts of the city.”

Anselm chewed his food thoughtfully before answering, “It was one of the final defenses that my master had put in place when the city was besieged.  He had laid down forbiddances around the temple and the fane before the fiends were able to get to the middle of the city.”  

“Then your master must be a very powerful priest indeed,” Jonas chimed in, nodding the entire time.  “May we speak with your master?”

Anselm swallowed hard.  “He is…how do I put this…quite mad.”

The matter-of-fact tone to Anselm’s voice was a slap in the face to the four of us.  A powerful priest protected a city of great importance, yet he was stark-raving mad?

“Surely this is no time for jest,” I barked, quite irritated with whatever joke this young ingrate was trying to pull off.  “This is serious business and we are in need of a powerful priest, not some mad blathering imbecile.”

Anselm looked at me with no expression in his eyes, “I do not jest, larcetan.  I speak of truth which I dearly wish was not such.”

“Then how can he cast these powerful magics?”  Laurel inquired, feeling a little more than interested at the apparent phenomenon right before her eyes.  “Surely the preciseness of spellcasting is something that escapes mad wizards and mad priests.  By the Nine Hells I’ve known wizards who could not even cast a fishing rod, much less the simplest of cantrips.”  She chuckled at her own joke, “And by all accounts they were quite sane.”

Anselm turned and smiled at the young wizardess, “I know not how he works his magic.  That is between himself and the Goddess of Spells**.”

“Venia.” All four of us chimed in at once.  It explained everything.

Venia is a powerful goddess of magic and, by all accounts, a good-hearted deity.  However, her lack of care for how magic is used is a much debated issue in the world of humans.  Magic for good, magic for evil, magic for the weak or powerful.  It matters not to the larcetan nor to the caanids, who do not rely on magic granted by the goddess.  However, in a room full of finger-twirlers, I was hardly going to be the dissenting voice in any argument that came with the naming of the deity.

“This is not getting us anywhere right now,” I said, keeping my watch on the outside perimeter of the building.  “We have brought with us a great force of 50 men-at-arms and all followers of Equitas.  However, they remain outside the walls of the city.”

Anselm crinkled his face in confusion, “There are more of you?”

We all nodded and Jonas added in calmed tones, “But there is a great horde at your door that they cannot pass through.  Our wizard friend did not prepare her spells to bring all of them over this day.”

Laurel shrugged, “I didn’t think I was to play transport to 50 mounted knights this day.”

Anselm nodded, “Do not worry, we will get your friends into the city.  Let us go wake my master up and we will see what he can do.”

Laurel, Archivell, and Jonas rose to leave with Anselm.  I spoke as they were leaving the room, “Laurel, how long do we have left on our fly enspellment?”

Laurel poked her head outside and glanced at the sun, “About a score or minutes or less, why?”

I nodded, “While you plan to bring the knights over, I shall wait for you all on the outside with them.  Should things turn against them, I wish for Oti Ni Nuad to release the spirits from their tortured existence here on Xad’Nasser.”

As I saw them all leave and walk toward the fane, I willed myself up into the air and over the horde of death that was attempting to desecrate the most holiest of cities on the face of the island.  A lump filled my throat at the thought of losing this island to yet another wave of fiends and creatures of death. Someone was going to pay.

Oti Ni Nuad was going to deliver a message of vengeance to whomever was responsible for this foulness.  I was a willing messenger.


When I reached the outskirts of town where the host of paladins awaited outside the city, I saw a surprising sight.  All 50 were in perfect formation and had stopped their charge approximately 500 feet from the undead host.

I flew up to Oden, mounted on his griffon and addressed him. “Sir Oden,” I bowed and preceded to take in the spectacle of his men, “You have come to your senses I see.”

Oden looked at me with a confused look upon his face. “Senses?  We are just acting on what was nothing less than a divine order not to storm this town.”

I opened my mouth to argue his statement, but remembered the shifter and decided to keep my mouth shut instead.

“You were visited by divine presence and no one else saw?”  I was trying to sound surprised and a little disbelieving at the same time.  Needless to say, acting is not one of my strong points.

“Aye,” Oden said, his grim expression telling me that the man was not jesting in the least, “Flew from the sky and intercepted my mount and I and commanded us to desist.”

I had more things to ask this man about his divine encounter, but none which would have proven productive.  I just changed the subject.

“The others are inside trying to discover the easiest way to bring you and your men inside.”  I said pointing to the town, “We found survivors.”

Oden’s face lit up at the proclamation, “Survivors?!  That’s incredible!  How many?”

“Two.”

His face lost some of it’s luminescence, “Just two?  Who are they?”

“A mad priest and his serving boy,” I proclaimed, “’Twas waiting at the tower for us when we flew over the horde.”

All happiness at finding survivors left his face at that moment.  He groaned audibly.

“I suppose that is blessing enough,” he sighed, “but Optimen must be quite enamored for them to have survived this long out in this wasteland.”

I nodded my agreement, “I suggest you and your men relax for a while, there is no telling how long it will take.  I have elected to stay out here with you and your men, to learn what I can of your training and to help you plot our plans to rebuild this great city.”

Oden commanded his men to dismount and then dismounted himself.  He went about preparing a small camp, known to those of us who adventure quite often as a “quickfire”, and discussed plans with me for many hours.

Rhen appeared an hour or so later and suggested a plan that he had devised for transporting the men to the town.

“You’re going to shift into a what?” Oden and I asked with questioning looks on our faces.  “What in the Black Abyss is that?”

“It’s called a ‘skrimlipod’ and it is large enough to hold half of your men and their mounts.”

“And what about the other half?” Oden asked skeptically, “what would you do with them?”  

Rhen looked to Oden indignantly, “I would return for them as quick as may be.” He said with minor conviction.

“How long will that take?”  I asked keeping an eye on the horde of undead.

“Each trip will take about 6 hours.”  The tone of his voice is what set Oden off more than the words he spoke.

“6 HOURS??” the lord paladin bellowed, “they could all be slaughtered in that amount of time.”

Rhen shrugged helplessly, “I did not say it was without it’s risks.”  He pointed to the sun, “You have but a few hours of daylight left, Oden, and you know what undead will appear after sundown.”

Oden did quite up at that.  Shadows, specters, and worse things would come out of the dark places of the night and attack the men.  Only to make them undead in return and ruin their places in Equitas’ halls of justice.

“Oden, I will stay with one half while you will travel with the other.” I offered this solution as a way to compromise and save the lives of his men.  “It will give them hope and protection whilst the transfer is complete.”

Oden thought on this long and hard.  “It is a good plan and one that I am willing to chance.”  He said carefully, “But on one condition.”

Rhen looked at the paladin, expressionless.

“I ride with them.”

“We will be able to carry less,” the druid said, “wouldn’t you rather ride with the second half?”

“I ride with them.  Period.”  It seemed Oden was adamant about his decision.

The druid shrugged.  “So be it.”

The shifter transformed and, after much toil and reverse engineering, we were able to seat 24 of Oden’s mounted knights atop the skrimlipod’s back.  It was a very slow ascension but after an hour or so, the large floating beast was in the air.


Just before dusk, we noticed movement in the fields about the town’s perimeter.  It seemed as though the horde was on the move, and whatever had been irresistibly drawing them towards the town was now not strong enough.

“They are leaving,” I said as I watched them going into the east.  Nightwalkers and many other nasty creatures were following.  It seemed as though they were leaving the town for no reason.

“I see,” said Sir Anton, Oden’s second in command.

“Let us hope that this is a sign of good things to come.”  I mused as I tried to view the large moving beast on the horizon.  It seemed as though it was just over the city’s main square.

Suddenly, we started hearing other-worldly voices and taunts thrown at us from the black of night.  The alarm was sounded and we all rose to our feet, clamoring into armor and drawing weapons as we could.  The Hand and Shield were in my hands as quick as any warrior could have drawn them.

The hellish screams of death and dying were all about us and the men were becoming afraid***.

“What is that noise, Sir Bocata?” Anton yelled over the deadly din, “I don’t see anyone here who could be causing it.”

“They are spirits, young warrior,” I replied, searching frantically for anything to materialize and try to attack one of the men.  “They are the remains of the dead who were lost and massacred here but a few months ago.  Their spirits are strong.”

“What are we to do against an enemy we cannot see?”  Anton said, drawing his hammer from a loop at his belt.

“The only thing we can do against such creatures,” I said, sheathing the Shield.

“Pray and run!”  Oh, how it pained me to say it.

I gave the order and, against his better judgment, and his orders, Anton repeated my order and I led the charge on foot, while the other men surrounded me.  We were going to get into the city of Paladium this night, without the shifter’s aid.

_*Our world has a council of "over-gods" that preside over the "regular 'rank and file'" deities of our world.  Optimen has one portfolio, Good, and is Co-superior to all deities of the Good alignment.  As you travel through our world, you'll learn the names of the other four over-gods.

**Venia is our goddess of magic.  She is a neutral good deity that is a bit fickle, but very powerful in the ways in which she speaks with her followers.  Almost all of them have some unique gift with magic.

***Oden's men, save for Sir Anton, are first level human paladins.  Needless to say they don't get "Divine Courage".

As soon as I figure out how to post a picture on the boards, I'll post one of the big lizard himself._


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## Arknath (Dec 3, 2002)

*Bocata defends Helzin*

I led the charge as the screaming and taunting around us grew.  It was only then did I realize that we were surrounded and the shadows were alive with evil.  What was worse, they were spooking the horses and infiltrating our ranks with the ease of a knife through butter.

“Run on!” I commanded Anton, as he stopped to help a fallen man to his feet and his horse.  “I will care for the fallen.”

Anton looked at me and nodded, pulling the man to his feet.  As I approached him, I grabbed him by the back of his armor and lifted him into his saddle.  One quick slap to the horse’s rear was enough to send the beast flying at full speed for the town.

I was quickly being outpaced by the horses of Oden’s men and found myself amongst the stragglers at the end of the line.  It was the blessing of the Hunter that none of the men were attacked and turned into evil undead themselves.  

On we ran and I yelled commands at them from behind directing them to the locations of the forbiddances that the cleric’s of Venia had placed around the city.  This lent new hope to the men, that their salvation and safe haven was but a short ride away.  Soon, again, with the blessing of Oti Ni Nuad, we were inside the city, without incident.


“You did WHAT?” Oden boomed at Anton when the younger commander had spoken his actions to his lord. “You were ordered to stay put!  Do you follow Bocata now or me?”  His face was red behind the large beard he wore.

“B-b-but sir, the m-m-men would have surely perished if not for the actions of Lord Bocata.” Anton stammered.  It seemed only one true fear haunted that man, and that was of his lord commander.

“Easy, good Oden,” I offered, as I came walking up, “It was my decision and I will stand by it.”  I stood over the man trying not to look intimidating.

“You may be a great warrior, Lord Bocata, but you have much to learn about order and discipline.  Being a leader is more than just barking orders at this man and that.”  Oden was trying to be respectful, but I could tell he was very angry at what had transpired.

“I will keep that in mind when next I am held responsible for your men, Lord Oden.”  My look was hard and unwavering.  Oden was a good man, I knew he was relieved at his men’s safety.  But, like all leaders, he fears a pattern of disobedience will form from one unfollowed order.  I like to call it “sheep-thought”.

Oden stared equally hard back towards me but said nothing.  “I will speak to you later, Anton.” He said gruffly. “You are dismissed.”

Anton quickly left and gave me a sideways glance.  I am still unsure if it was a silent thank you or a berating.  I glanced casually at Oden. It was at this moment that I heard the cry.

“Did you hear that?” I said looking eastwards.

“Hear what?” Oden said, very uninterested.  “I did not hear anything.”

The cry came again, this time more urgent.  “Something is happening to the east.  Some…one is in danger.”

“How do you know this?” Oden asked suspiciously, “I cannot hear anything.”

I looked at him in the eye and knew exactly what I was hearing.  As if, by some divine interjection, he had just been struck with the same idea that I had, he nodded.  

“Go to it.” He said softly, “It is a special blessing indeed that you have found one out in this wilderness.  I will say a prayer for your safe return.”

I nodded.  “My thanks, lord paladin.  I hope to return and with Oti Ni Nuad’s blessing, I shall.”

We both looked at each other with silent admiration of courage and bravery knowing full well what I was about to do.  It was a moment I’ll never forget, a moment shared by two beings of utterly different backgrounds who had come to an understanding.

Without another word, I took off in a dead run towards the eastern part of town.  The screaming in my mind was becoming more urgent and the life-pleading nearly tore my heart in twain. I sprinted for nearly a mile, unconscious of my body’s desire to slow down or stop altogether.  One moment could make all the difference where this was concerned.

I finally crested the top of the hill and stopped, panting heavily and scanning the low-lying area.  There, as big as a hillside itself, was the object of my hunt.  It was laying down on it’s side, bleeding from several wounds and crying out in pain, though the cries were not loud by any measure of sound.  By the sound of the screaming in my mind, the utter pain and life-ending screaming I knew that this beast was in danger.

This had only happened to me once before, when Oti Ni Nuad blessed me with Nirthogen* had I felt this kind of bond between a creature.  I believed that this creature was bonded to me as Nirthogen was, only there was one small difference between this creature and the small four-legged creature that was my companion for almost a year.

This creature had six heads.

I saw what was assaulting this creature.  Three very strange and grotesque looking undead creatures were battering my new companion and having great fun with doing so.  The scene of them surrounding him was one that enraged me unlike anything I had ever witnessed in my 34 years of life.  Oti Ni Nuad had challenged me and I would not fail in that challenge.

So the rage came and I held the door open wide.

My eyes turned a pale red and my muscles tensed.  I leapt down the hillock screaming bloody murder to draw attention from the creature as much as I could. The three undead beings turned to look at me and smiled grotesquely to each other as if they had a new toy to torment.  It was only when I was within 30 steps of them that they realized I had not come to play.

The first creature I came upon was so slow that it did not have a chance to cherish the last moments of his unnatural life.  In one swift motion, I had drawn the Hand and Shield and cut this creature down to ribbons.  However, when I sliced into this creature, blood as red as the darkest rose shot towards me and splashed my skin and eyes.  So powerful was the burning that I could not open my eyes and was forced into a defensive posture to regain my bearings.  As the blood started to seep into my skin, a strong stiffness began to form on my limbs, but I was able to shake the paralyzing poison off.

The other two creatures realized their advantage and closed in, swiping at me with their huge bloated arms and spitting more of their hot, stinging blood onto my body.  I cried out in rage and swung wildly trying to find their fat bodies with my sword points but was unable to locate them.  It wasn’t until I had calmed a bit that my senses had returned.  If I couldn’t see them, I would be forced to smell them out.

The first creature approached me from the right side and as his bulbous arm slammed into my armored chest, I reacted with a three hit combination that sent the monster to the ground.  However, my own luck failing, I spilled more of the blood onto my skin.  This time, however, I gave into the searing blood’s paralyzing effects and found that I could not move at all.  It was Oti Ni Nuad’s hand that stepped in to save his servant, yet again, from certain death.

As I stood there unable to move, the third beast roared in rage and grabbed my head in his hands.  His arms tensed and his hands began to move in quick motions, trying to snap my neck in half.  My armor, blessed Rageskin, protected me with the strength of the Fury and his attempts to take advantage of my helplessness were ineffective.

As the time wore on, the beast tried several times to destroy me in one quick movement, and each time Rageskin repelled the attempts by the monster to rid me of my life.  Through craftsmanship and sure strength of heart, I was serving the Fury well.  It was then that I realized my success when I was released from paralyzation and the burning in my eyes had stopped, all at once.  

I looked down at my body.  My armor, my arms, weapons and even the ground about me was drenched in gory, red blood.  I turned to look at the creature before me with utter contempt and hatred in my eyes.

“Now…you die.”  I said with grim satisfaction.  This creature bellowed again and came on, but I had planted my feet and was ready for him.  The Hand and Shield made short work of this monster and I, again, was dripping in blood and surrounded by the unmoving bodies of my enemies.

As the adrenaline drained from my veins, I began to feel the effects of the poison that the creatures had injected into me.  I lay next to the creature whom was dying and touched him with my hands.  I prayed to the Hunter to save my friend whom I had come to rescue from utter destruction.  My Lord answered me and, through me, used his power to ease the suffering of the creature.  

My prayer of thanks was quick and unceremonious.  Proper thanks would have to be given later.  Little did I know, however, that I would be thanking my Lord in a way I never imagined possible.  I slumped to the ground, unconscious and feeling very weak.

And I prayed.

_*The name of Bocata's first mount._


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