# Byzantium on the Shannon, Part the Second



## Ingolf (Feb 13, 2002)

As mentioned in the first part of this thread, look here for continuing updates to this oh-so-soap-opera-like saga. Check out the Byzantium on the Shannon I thread for what has gone before, and of course all of the write-ups are present at the Palaestra web site, 

http://webpages.charter.net/wpeacock/palaestra/index.htm

and awaaay we go . . . 

Episode Twenty-Eight


Standing in the blood-soaked grass, Ingolf gave voice to his thoughts about the situation.

“We have to move, and soon. Moireach will have no trouble discovering what has happened here and where we went. We need all the head start we can muster.”

“I think I can throw her off a bit” Gudlaug replied. “Give me a few moments to prepare. Sleep until dawn, at least, when my power is replenished.”

Gudlaug stood the last watch while the rest of the battle-weary group slept. At the first hint of the sun, the dwarven druid gathered the company around him and explained his plan.

“As Ingolf points out, a Druid in the wild has many resources – one as powerful as Moireach doubly so. It will not be easy to evade her and make our escape – especially given that several of us would quite nicely provide the final ingredient she needs to complete this ritual of transformation.” At that, Aoelif touched her own throat with a thoughtful look. Gudlaug saw her and said “None of us have any desire to lose our heads, least of all to further some mad King’s plan. Here is what I propose . . .”

And hour later, the company was on the move again – and quickly. The wily druid had nearly expended his full complement of magics, but in so doing had rendered the entire group and their mounts invisible to any animal spies that Moireach might have in the area. He had also conjured up a clear path for them through the woods and put a friendly wind at their back – the party was moving easily twice the speed of horse across faerie and towards the human lands. From that point the meant to strike out northerly across Thessela province and come to the Credi kingdom, where Brion’s liege Owain could hopefully be found. After an hour or so of this travel, Gudlaug pulled up short and motioned the group to stop. He seemed to be listening to something.

“I left a spy of sorts myself. A listening ringworm placed on a likely rodent. Moireach is approaching the site of the boar’s demise now.”

“A listening . . . ringworm?” Martaine was surprised by his dwarven counterpart yet again. “You can eavesdrop via an infection?”

Gudlaug ignored him. “Moireach is interrogating the local fauna. She knows the details of the combat. Hmmm. She seems to think that her pet troll has thrown in his lot with us.” 

“You shapechanged form has confounded her, no doubt.” Nicasia said.

“Emrys is mad.” Gudlaug said suddenly, still listening to the voice of Moireach many miles away, unheard by any but him. “He means to transform himself into this half-dragon to extend his life and then seek revenge.”

“Revenge?” Theodorus said. “On who?”

“All those he seems to think have wronged him. He is gathering his army now to march on Tavia when the transformation is completed. From the sounds of it, if that campaign is successful. I gather the Credi will be his next target.”

“That would follow” Ingolf said. “His defeat many years ago was at least partially because of them.”

Theodorus spoke reluctantly “I have to admit that the armies of the province have been . . . softened somewhat by the recent peaceful times. I am not at all certain that an army of Cimbri warriors would meet all that much opposition. Particularly if they strike with surprise.”

“With a dragon leading them” Nicasia added.

Ingolf savored privately for a moment the thought of a faerie army once more on human soil, then discarded the idea as being ultimately disastrous for him, no matter how patriotic. “Perhaps we should alter our course. Strike out for Tavia at once, warn the governor. I’ve no particular desire to see my adopted home city ruled by a man who would kill his loyal retainers to further his own mad schemes.”

“Or his son.” Gulaug said. The others looked at him with surprise. “My spell is nearly faded, but Moireach mentioned to someone else there that, should her hunt for us prove fruitless, there was always Brice.”

“Who was this other person?” Brion asked.

“She called her Daracha. Do you know of this one?”

“Aye. She is Moireach’s  . . . bodyguard, I suppose. She has a dark reputation. They say she has killed many men in Moireach’s defense. They are rumored to be entwined in . . . other ways, as well.” 

Ingolf, never slow on the uptake, said “She is Moireach’s assassin lover?”

“Well, whoever she is, Moireach has dispatched her to hunt for us.” Gulaug replied. Brion seemed to not like the sound of that in the slightest. 

After a short discussion, the choice was made to keep to the current course. Gudlaug very much wished the council and aid of others of his order and at least one druid was likely to be at Arcois’ court in Credi. Theodorus seemed to think that, could they not somehow head off Emrys’ plans themselves, there was little they could do in Tavia either, though all agreed that a message should be dispatched at the earliest opportunity, warning the governor via Theodorus’ visiting father what was happening. 

Synopsis:

From this point, the group moved quickly towards the Credi lands. Near the Iconian border they ran into there old “friend” Sir Eudamon, and with him was Brion’s liege lord Owain. Eudamon had been riding in the province seeking second sons of noble houses to join his Legion. Theodorus persuaded Eudamon to carry a letter for him in all haste to his Uncle Jon Dukas, currently visiting the Collegium in Tavia. Although the hot-headed Eudamon was not told the details of the letter (which revealed the imminent invasion) he was convinced that it was important enough to make his top priority. Owain and Brion elected to return to their home village and hope for the best. His errand to reach Arcois had been successful but of the powerful druid Krossbyr there was no news.

The group rode on to the manor of a Knight named __________ whom Eudamon had recently visited. He extended his hospitality and they are all grateful for it; Ingolf for the beer particularly. Aoelif spent some time in swordplay with the Knight’s son. Gudlaug slept outside.

Episode 29 Synopsis:

The group rode quickly on to Arcois’ court. There they were warmly greeted by the Credi warlord and feasted in his hall. He was aware already of their errand, yet still had no news of Krossbyr. Clearly the senior druid was either disinclined to involve himself in events or otherwise out of the picture. Conference with Arcois led the group to conclude the best course of action was to find Moireach and put a stop to the dragon transformation before it could be completed. Aoelif decided to alert Bodolf the Brave, leader of her Fianna warband, and enlist his aid. Messages were dispatched asking him to meet the group at a small village near the Helveti border. Arcois agreed to allow five of his own warriors to accompany them. Ingolf asked for men that could ride, shoot and move stealthily and the Credi King chose who should go from those that wished it. They were all warned that, while great glory was to be won, perhaps also death awaited. None shirked from this warning and the next morning the small band set out. They found Bodolf at the inn where they requested he meet them, and he seemed quite eager to take up the fight. Thus reinforced, the group headed back into Helveti, towards the druid grove where Moireach and Emrys’ foul plan would reach its climax once the black druidess had collected enough heads.

Episode 30 Synopsis:

Perhaps 20 miles from the grove the group had spotted smoke rising in the distance, another village perhaps, under assault by whatever new horror Moireach had created. Gudlaug flew ahead in the form of a sharp-eyed eagle to see what he might learn. He returned in a half hour or so with dire news.

“She’s summoned up – or built – something new.” The dwarven druid reported.

“Built? What do you mean?” Theodorus said. Ingolf’s thoughts flashed back momentarily to the great iron construct that bore the legless master of the Wizard’s Collegium about Tavia.

“A sort of - wicker man.” Gudlaugh said. “A truly huge one. It is stomping about the village crushing any houses not already demolished.”

Bodolf spoke next. “How many heads does she lack for this black ritual? Do we know?” 

“Not just any head will do” Aoelif said. “Only the heads of the powerful – of heroes. That is what she needs.”

“Well,” the Fianna leader replied, “I feel certain I qualify, at least, though I have no intention of giving up my head without a struggle. Thought we are but a dozen men and women I count that a fortuitous number. Let’s go see this wicker man and discover what happens!”

With that, the Fianna leader rode quickly up the road, not bothering to look to see if he was being followed. In short order the company was drawing close to the village. As the rode out of the edge of the wood and into the vegetable gardens and animal pens at the edge of the town, they could all see what Gudlaug had reported.

Looming over the last undamaged structure in town was a huge figure, seemingly made of vines and tree branches, living and dead alike, woven together. It had the form of a giant man and was, if anything, even larger than the boar. The Credi warriors, unused as they were to such sights, drew up short, but Bodolf urged them onwards by actions rather than deed – he charged directly at the thing on horseback.

The rest of the company surged forward as well, weapons in hand. Ingolf considered his shortbow but quickly discarded that notion. He drew his light, thrusting sword and realized that he was singularly ill-prepared to tackle a living golem of vines and saplings.  A female voice that they guessed to be Moireach’s seemed to be coming from the wicker man’s head, and it was cackling with glee. Suddenly from the rear of the advance came an abrupt cry of pain – Gudlaug had an arrow planted deeply in his shoulder. Theodorus and Ingolf cast about in a near panic when the bard spotted movement in the tree above, and caught a glimpse of a leather-clad form. 

Bodolf was the first to react. He dropped from his saddle, pulling a javelin as he did so. He turned to face the assassin above them and set his feet in a certain way. With a shout he let fly his spear, and it struck the assassin in the chest, twisting violently as it did so. Aoelif regarded this with interest – it was a trick of the fianna that she had heard tales of but did not herself know how to accomplish. The woman yelled out in pain and doubled over. Gudlaug heard her cry “Moireach!” as she did so, and suddenly the battlefield was aflame. Fire erupted all around the charging warriors, and several of Arcois’ men fell charred and dead to the ground. Martaine and Aoelif were burned as well, though Nicasia managed to avoid the fires, twisting aside at the last possible moment.

With characteristically dwarven indifference to suffering, Gudlaug pulled the arrow from his shoulder and noted, with some annoyance, that the tip was smeared with a dark black tar. Already the wound hurt far more than it should, but the dwarf had no time to worry about poisons. He intoned a quick spell to stop the bleeding and left the invisible attacker to be dealt with by Theodorus and Ingolf. The bard noted that the woman seemed badly wounded by Bodolf’s spear, and as he watched she produced and drank some magical elixir – and promptly vanished from sight. Theodorus quickly produced and read a scroll he had prepare earlier and began hunting for the would-be killer, who they assumed to be Daracha, Moireach’s personal bodyguard.

Martaine moved as quickly as he could from one wounded to the next, doing what he was able. The group was split at this point, with those in the back trying to deal with Daracha while Aoelif and Bodolf alone opposed the wicker golem. Gudlaug was moving towards the thing as quickly as he could, but it was clear that Bodolf would reach it first.

As he ran towards the golem, Bodolf could see that woven in among the vines and saplings in the thing’s head was the skull of some animal, a horse perhaps. A pale green fire flickered in its eye sockets and he could hear the voice of Moireach coming from the skull, intoning another spell. He knew that another storm of fire was more than the group could weather. He closed with the wicker construct and then, with a yell that all who knew the feats of the fianna had heard before, he leapt towards the wicker head, sword in hand. 

His first blow smashed the skull into flinders even as he landed on the thing’s shoulders. This victory was very short lived, however – in a moment the wicker man had Bodolf by the ankle like a rag doll. To the amazement of all it did not fling him aside or dash his head against the earth. Rather, it reached down with its free hand and forced an opening through the vines in its own chest. Into this Bodolf the Brave was unceremoniously stuffed, like a fistful of bread pudding into a goose. Aoelif leapt screaming at the thing with swords in hand, heedless of her own wounds in her desire to rescue her captain. Martaine moved close behind to support the howling fianna.

Across the battlefield, Ingolf and Nicasia searched in vain for the invisible assassin somewhere in the canopy of tree branches above them. Theodorus intoned a sequence of spells and took to the air. Another spell rendered his target visible – but to himself only. As he watched she drank another potion and flew off, clearly meaning to flee the scene of the combat. Theodorus called up a magical bolt of acid and flung it at the fleeing assassin but missed. She sped off and the mage flew after her in hot pursuit.

Aoelif drew her enchanted blade Sig and closed with the golem, suffering more abuse from the huge woody fists as she did so. She was about to tear into the strange creature with the flaming blade when she heard a muffled cry from within yelling “No flames! No flames!” With a curse she extinguished what was no doubt the most efficacious weapon any in the group possessed and engaged it without the benefit of fire. Martaine had moved in close behind and was able to heal the most grievous of Aoelif’s burns. Gudlaug strode forth with his weapon in hand alongside the fianna and together they engaged the thing as best they were able.

Suddenly from the general vicinity of the construct’s chest came a terrific crashing sound, like someone forcing his way through a dense thicket. Leaves and branches fairly exploded from the wicker golem’s chest, and a dazed, bloodied and scratched, but very much alive, Boldolf, tumbled out to the ground. In his hand was a dagger sticky with sap. Aoelif redoubled her efforts and moments later the strange wicker thing was a shambles. The damage dealt to it from within and without was more than the magic animating it could compensate for. From the wreck of the thing emerged two surprised and wounded Cimbri warriors – the thing’s prior targets.

Somewhere above them Theodorus was still chasing Daracha, who he alone could see. He hurled another acidic missile at her but missed again, then with a curse he threw a mesh of sticky magical webbing across her path. Daracha flew directly into the webbing strung between the tree branches and was ensnared; Theodorus then began intoning a different spell and a series of magic missiles sped unerringly into the already wounded assassin, finishing her. 

The group gathered their wits about them. Gudlaug went to each of the Cimbri fallen and said a few words in the ancient language of the druids; Martaine assumed it was the druidic equivalent of last rites. The two Cimbri that had been rescued from the inside of the wicker golem quickly told the tale of what had happened. The golem had come before dawn, smashing the houses and farmsteads of the half-elves and driving the women and children of the village before itself like cattle. The men had tried to fight back – all were slain, save the two taken by the thing.

“This was no doubt meant to draw us in.” Ingolf said. “Moireach’s last chance to capture one of us for her ritual.”

“I note also that her assassin struck at Gudlaug first” Martaine added. 

“Aye. No doubt she considers another druid the one most likely to thwart her plans. What will she do next, I wonder?”

Aoelif answered that one. “She will do what she said she would when Gudlaug was eavedropping. She’ll kill Emrys’ son and finish her ritual that way.” 

Bodolf looked up from where he sat as Martaine tended his wounds. “What! Is Emrys mad enough to sacrifice his own son for this plot?”

“Moireach is, at least, if not Emrys” Aoelif said. “we should head out at once for the druid grove.”

One of the rescued Cimbri spoke up. “We know the way, if you do not. And we’d like to join with you.”

“Aye,” Gudlaug said “some at least of Moireach’s potential victims should be there to see her fall.” A slow smoldering fire was burning in the dwarf’s eyes. He headed towards his pony without looking to see if the others were following; all of them were close behind.

The company rode hard and made camp late that night. As they sat rubbing out the cramps from  ahrd ride, Gudlaug told them all what to expect.

“I know nothing of this ritual that Moireach believes will transform Emrys into a dragon, or half-dragon. But I can guess a few things about it and about the grove. The place will be deeply connected to the unseelie side of faerie. There will be guardians also.”

“Such as that boar?” Nicasia asked. “I’d as soon not meet that again.”

“Not quite.” Gudlaug went on. “The boar was – unique. A servant of the grove but not of Moireach – I believe she deceived the guardians of the grove into letting her use the boar in this scheme. The guardians themselves may not be part of her plots.”

“Let us hope not” Bodolf interrupted. “I want nothing to come between my blade and this mad king and his druid.”

Aoelif hesitantly replied to her captain “We do not know for sure that Emrys is part of all this. He might be a pawn himself. Moireach is rumored to have much sway over him.”

“Be that as it may” Gudlaug ent on “we will have to find out once we reach them. My warning is simply this – make no aggressive move towards the guardians of the grove, whatever they may be. We should defend ourselves, but it may be that we need not come to blow with the worst of our possible opponents. Offer them no offense and be doubly certain to harm no growing thing within the boundaries of the grove.”

The next day was dark, low clouds pressed down on the treetops and the group’s spirits. Nonetheless they pressed on and reached the area of the grove before noon. Ingolf was preparing to scout cautiously ahead when suddenly they all heard an oddly familiar voice calling out to him in Cimbri.

“Stop! Go no further!” 

It was Brion, the cimbri warrior who they last saw in the company of his master Owain. 

“Brion?” Ingolf said. “What are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same question. What business have you here?”

“You know well what our business is” Gudlaug said. “We mean to stop this ritual.”

“I know – I know nothing of any ritual, save the one we were commended to attend. King Emrys will pass down the crown to his son Brice today. All of Emrys bannermen were commanded to be present.”

“All his surviving bannermen, you mean” said Theodorus. 

Brion blanched at that. “Aye. All of them are here, with their retainers, as our king commanded us.” The young warrior was clearly upset. He gripped his spear in both hands, twisting the haft between them. “I – I do not know what is going to happen.”

“Brion, you were with us when we fought that troll thing, and you know what it said.” Martaine said. “You know that things are not as they seem here.”

“I heard the troll, aye. Am I to believe it over the word of my own King? I do not know what is gong to happen.” 

“Brion” Ingolf said “find your liege. Tell Owain that we are here, that we mean to discover exactly what Moireach is up to, and that if it involves the murder of Brice as we believe it does, we mean to stop it.”

“The Prince! He’s here, of course. You think she means to . . .”

“Kill him, aye, to provide the final bit of power she needs for this ritual. We will stop her if we can.”

“Tell him the Fianna are come” Bodolf suddenly spoke. “Tell him that Bodolf the Brave means to see the crown passed on to the heir of Helveti, as it should be. If that is what is really about to happen, then no one need have any worries.”

Brion looked uncertain. “I was ordered to prevent any from entering the grove” he said. 

“Clearly there are too many of us for you to stop” Ingolf replied.

“I should summon aid” Brion said with a wry smile. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so for me to get help.” With that he turned and moved off into the wood. The group pressed on, towards the grove. They could see the high hedge surrounding it, and one narrow opening on the near side.

“remember” Gudlaug warned them again “harm no growing thing within that hedge, and defend yourself only – do not draw a blade against anything that shows you no hostility.” They all moved forward resolutely, though a few of the cimbri warriors with them clearly had misgivings about the entire affair. Inside the grove, they could see a splash of light in the gloom – something, clearly, was happening.

The grove was ancient, Gudlaug and even Ingolf could feel how ancient it was as they approached. The hedge wall surrounding it was too high to see over and to dense to penetrate, so the group was forced to the one opening in the circle. In the middle of the grove a huge oak stood – black and flat as midnight.  Black roots twisted into a great black bole that spread a canopy of black leaves above them. Ingolf thought immediately of the plane of shadow, where Zacarra had been spirited away form them, and of what they had seen there.

Around the tree stood four elves, almost invisible at first, as they were the same flat black as the tree itself. Slender bows were in there hands and the nearest one regarded the group with his dead black eyes. They neither spoke, nor moved, nor met the gaze of any that looked at them. They merely stood guard. 

On the far side of the grove they saw her at last – Moireach the druid stood over a stone slab, swaying slowly, almost like a serpent, to some music she alone could hear. She was saying something that none of them understood. To her right stood Emrys, the King they had seen but once before, at the wedding of his son Brice. He was armored fully and bore before him the huge sword of state, but he looked frail. Old, tired, withered – but in his eyes a strange light was playing. If Inolf had any doubt about the man’s culpability in the whole mad scheme, it vanished at that moment. 

Emrys was looking down at the slab of stone in front of him. On it lay the bound and unconscious form of his own son Brice. Ingolf guessed that the prince had been drugged or ensorcelled – his sleep did not have the wholesome quality of natural slumber. 

Moireach suddenly looked at the group and hissed in a sibilant, almost reptilian voice. Bodolf and Aoelif drew their swards and Ingolf bent his bow, when suddenly the druidess’ arms shot skywards and a roaring wall of flame erupted around her and the King, parting the two of them, as well as their intended sacrifice, from the invading group. Gudlaug heard he begin another spell when suddenly a great roar came from the far side of the grove and an enormous bear charged directly at the company.

One of Arcois’ warriors was the first to act, setting the butt of her spear quickly to better meet the bear’s charge. She wounded it deeply, but with a single swipe of its forepaw the dire beast tossed her aside like a man might swat a buzzing bee. Ingolf fired quickly and drove two arrows deep into the thing’s side while the others moved to engage it. Aoelif and Bodolf ran across the grove towards the wall of flame, thinking rightly that they could most easily avoid it, and Theodorus cast a spell and flew quickly above the fight. All were careful to avoid the tree and its strange guardians, who so far seemed to take no interest in what was going on.

The bear had batted down another of the cimbri and left a deep ash in Ingolf’s side when Nicasia and Gudlaug lent their considerable magical might to the battle. Flames and eldritch energies tore into the thing and in a few moments the tide of that fight had turned. 

Aoelif ran across the clearing and made a mighty leap, sailing clear of the flames and landing before the king. Despite the evidence before her doubt still wracked the fianna’s mind. She drew her sword but did not engage the aged monarch. “Your majesty, we are here – we are here to help your kingdom. Stand aside, please.”

“If you want to help my kingdom” Emrys said with a sneer, “you will get the hell out of my way!” 

He held his great sword aloft and it blazed for a moment with all the glory his station could afford him. For a second, he seemed to Aoelif not like an aged, frail old man at all, but like the powerful king he must have been in his youth, when he nearly drove humanity from Thessela province entirely. 

“Begone, fianna whelp. I’ve no intention of going to my grave as a withered, beaten old man. Or maybe you think yourself a match for me, eh!”

With that Emrys unleashed a torrent of blows, driving Aoelif back towards the wall of fire. She fought to defend herself at first, but realized quickly that, though the old king lacked the strength of youth, his skill had faded not in the least. She quickly shifted her sword to her off hand and drew her flaming brand Sig, and began to fight back in earnest. In a few moments, both the king and the young fianna woman were bloodied and wounded, but Emrys showed no sign of backing down.

Across the circle of flame, Moireach was busy casting yet more spells, and soon a group of huge and vicious looking wolves were circling the stone slab where Brice lay. One or two of them moved off towards Aoelif, who was still engaged with the king. Gudlaug charged forward and through the fires, the spells he’d prepared earlier shielding him from the heat. He regarded the wolves. “Just the thing for that,” Gudlaug said aloud to no one in particular, and with that he threw back his head and made a strange howling sound. Every animal that heard it knew it was the sound of the huntsman coming for them, and they all felt a cold fear clutching at their hearts. Moireach’s wolves turned and fled, cowering in the corner, trapped between the hunter and the fire.

Moireac hissed at Gudlaug. “You whelp. Someday perhaps you will learn what real power is – the power I serve.” The half-elf drew herself up to her full height – and kept going. Her limbs swelled and lengthened, horns burst from her forehead and a pair of leathery wings sprouted from her back. She regarded the dwarf with eyes that were at once very ancient and very evil,  and stepped back through the wall of flames. She cast yet another spell, and Gudlaug noted with some dismay that one of the huge trees outside the hedge began to move, slowly taking on a shape and form not unlike a man’s. “Bodolf!” the druid cried “Martaine! Nicasia! We need – some help!”

Ingolf headed towards Moireach first, with Martaine and Nicasia close behind. Theodorus had taken flight once again and was circling wide around the draconic druidess to cut off any attempt at flight. As he did so he saw that, within the circle of flame, Aoelif was being hard pressed by King Emrys. The wizard pulled out a scroll given him by his uncle Jon Dukas – a favorite spell of Nicasia’s, but prepared specially for maximum effect. He quickly read the spell and a spread of magical missiles appeared and sped towards Emrys. All five tore through his aged body like slight bullets through a paper target. Already wounded as he was by his combat with Aoelif this was more than Emrys could take; he fell to the ground dead at the fianna’s feet.

Now, the group had taken pains in advance to disguise themselves, and Theodorus at the moment was in the form of a elvish male, yet Ingolf couldn’t help but worry that the knowledge that a human from Tavia had slain the King of Helveti would leak out somehow, and the thought was troubling to him. But at the moment, there were other cats to skin – Moireach was still alive and Prince Brice lay still asleep within the ring of flame.

Bodolf was the first to reach the animated tree, circling around the wall of fire to do so. He drew his sword and tore into it with a shout. Ingolf and Gudlaug approached from the other side, avoiding the tree and trying to get to Moireach, who was already busy summoning something else to harry them. Ingolf let fly and arrow and saw it strike the druidess in the calf – not a fatal shot but it spoiled her spell. Gudlaug cast aside all pretension of matching her with spellcraft and pulled forth his mace. Moireach belched forth a gout of flame at the dwarf, but his spells absorbed the worst of it, and then he was upon her, with Ingolf close behind him sword in hand. Soon the druidess was caught between the two of them. She saw to her dismay that Bodolf had nearly dispatched the tree and that he too would soon join the fray.

Just when Moireach assumed that things could not possibly get any worse, Aoelif came through the wall of flame, heedless of her own wounds or the pain of the fire. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was still covered in the blood of a king when she reached Moireach. The half-dragon stumbled backwards, pressed as much by the fury in the fianna’s eyes as she was by the fury of her blows. It was the later that finished her off, as Aoelif split her skull open with a mighty blow from Sig, spilling whatever other secrets or plots were swirling in her mind on the ground along with her life.


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## TheBard (Feb 13, 2002)

*FYI: King Emrys*

Here's the rough stats (sans items) for the King. 

As you can see, if he was in good health he would have really been waaaaaay out of their league. 

Still, in two rounds (one partial and one full attack) he took Aoelif down below 10 hps. Not bad for an ancient Cimbri.


Emrys, King of the Helvetti: Half-elf Ftr12/Ari5; Medium ; HD 17; hp 60; Init 3; Spd 20 ft/x5; AC 25; Atk +22/+17/+12 Two-handed  (2d6+9/17-20/×2, Greatsword +3), +15/+10/+5 One-handed  (1d6+4, Javelin +1), +19/+14/+9 One-handed  (1d4+3/19-20/×2, Masterwork dagger); AL NE; SV Fort +10, Ref +7, Will +13; Str 10, Dex 8, Con 6, Int 13, Wis 11, Cha 19.

Skills: Climb +5, Diplomacy +13, Handle Animal +10, Jump +6, Knowledge (geography) +2, Knowledge (history) +4, Knowledge (local) +4, Knowledge (nobilty & royalty) +3, Knowledge (religion) +2, Ride +9, Sense Motive +7, Spot +8, Swim +8. 

Feats: Alertness, Improved Critical(Greatsword), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Leadership, Power Attack, Cleave, Great Cleave, Sunder, Run, Weapon Focus(Greatsword), Greatsword


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## handforged (Feb 13, 2002)

wow, what a great start for the second thread.  I can't wait to see what happens to the group as a result of this battle.


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## Gideon (Feb 13, 2002)

Nice to have you back, hope you and yours are doing okay now.  And a quick question-How did you guys get the Charachter sheets in to PDF format?

Nice to have one of the best stories back.


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## Ancalagon (Feb 14, 2002)

Yes!

Glad to see this thread return, and return in force!

Ancalagon


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## TheBard (Feb 14, 2002)

*Thanks*



			
				Gideon said:
			
		

> *Nice to have you back, hope you and yours are doing okay now.  And a quick question-How did you guys get the Charachter sheets in to PDF format?
> 
> Nice to have one of the best stories back. *




They are the sheet provided by the Mad Irishman. You can find them at http://www.mad-irishman.net/ But, unless you have access to the full version of Acrobat, you can't save your work.


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## Gideon (Feb 14, 2002)

Blah blah blah, you need the full version to save


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## Knight-of-Roses (Feb 14, 2002)

Martaine's player here.  It should be noted that Martaine summoned a Hound Archeron (minor angel), cast silence upon its sword and send it to harrass the evil Druidess.

With limited success it must be said, but it was one more thing to keep her from acting at her full capacity.  (The Hound was struck down by the animated tree if I recall.)


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## TheBard (Feb 15, 2002)

Knight-of-Roses said:
			
		

> *Martaine's player here.  It should be noted that Martaine summoned a Hound Archeron (minor angel), cast silence upon its sword and send it to harrass the evil Druidess.
> 
> With limited success it must be said, but it was one more thing to keep her from acting at her full capacity.  (The Hound was struck down by the animated tree if I recall.) *




That right!!!

It did get killed by the "ent", but not only would that attack likely to have snuffed poor Ingolf, but the hound did even more. I remember Moireach trying on two occasions to cast summoning spells. One, as Keith recalled, was defeated by Ingolf's arrow , BUT the other was done by the Hound. So, while it did not do a lot of damage, it _did_ accomplish a lot. Without it you would have been fighting two Otyughs, as I recall.


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## Gideon (Feb 27, 2002)

Feeding the addiction then going into hiding again?  I hope everything is going alright for you guys.

BuMp!


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## Ingolf (Mar 5, 2002)

More to come soon, just a quick in-betweener to fill the gap:

The group considered, briefly, the dead form of the druidess before a new host of problems asserted themselves.

“What,” Ingolf began, “should we tell the assembled bannermen of the late king?”

“I’d prefer that we not tell them the exacting particulars of what just transpired” Theodorus replied. “Feel free to diminish my role in the slaying of the king, I am no glory-seeker.”

Bodolf seemed confused by this. “But it was a mighty spell of yours that felled the mad king! How could you not claim such a deed?” 

“He fears retribution, I am sure” said Nicasia. “The Dumbrani may not take kindly to a human interloper having a hand in these events, should they learn his true identity. We are not unknown to these folk.”

“Perhaps,” Ingolf offered, “the truth might best be bent a little here? Supposing Emrys had a last minute change of heart, and died trying to save his son’s life? Certainly Moireach will not be able to tell the tale any differently.” He gestured towards the dead druidess.

Bodolf pondered this for a moment. “It would not do to gloss over Emrys’ evil acts. No, I think his legacy must be one of folly, and I will not let his name be remembered as that of a true King and noble heart.” Ingolf rolled his eyes at the fianna’s sense of propriety. 

“It hardly seems important to me how he is remembered” Ingolf said. “I am more concerned that his Kingdom not fall apart in the wake of his death. How is Brice doing?”

Martaine was, at that moment, tending to the unconscious prince. “He will be fine, I think. My guess is that he was drugged, but in due course he should come around.”

Bodolf turned to the assembled group. “I have decided what is to be done” he began. “Emrys vanity and evil acts must not go unpunished by history. There will be no embellishment of his demise in song or story.” He glared briefly at Ingolf. “But I do see your point as well, wizard. You fought bravely and should be proud, yet there is some danger. Hence, I have decided to make you all honorary members of my warband.”

Aoelif was apparently too shocked by this to do much more than gawk at her captain. “As temporary members of the fianna, you are beyond the reach of any revenge these folk might claim.” Bodolf went on. “I have found you brave and true defenders of faerie in these events, even if your motives for doing so were not my own. I take you all into my band and under my protection until such time as you have returned to your homes, whereafter you are free to do as you please.”

Ingolf, on seeing the look on Aoelif’s face, was forced to stifle a laugh. He considered that perhaps Bodolf might not appreciate the humor of the situation. He turned towards the elf swordswoman.

“I think my brother would approve, me joining the fianna and all. Don’t you?” Aoelif shot him a glance that left no room for doubt about what she thought. “Oh, come on now Aoelif, it isn’t so terrible. Look at it this way – you outrank all of us if nothing else.”

Epilog:

Wraith-like fingers of smoke curled lazily from a smoldering brazier, brightly lit by stabbing beams of sunlight peaking through the shutters at a room high atop the College of Wizardry in Tavia. Two men sat facing each other across a table oddly vacant of the usual clutter and detritus of a Wizard’s study. Instead the both gazed at a small sphere of pristine crystal, no bigger than a man’s fist, or heart. The younger of the two men spoke first.

“She will challenge the young prince on the spot, I think. She has the fiery temperment for it.”

“What of this fianna? Will he allow it?”

“I think he must. From what my nephew has told me, they are sworn not to interfere in such matters unless it represents a threat to faerie itself. The prince seems weak to me. I doubt he will prevail against such as she.”

The older man considered this. “So none of the others may involve themselves either? Your nephew might turn the tables on her with a single spell.”

The younger man smiled at his companion. “Let us see what happens.”

The two bent closer to the crystal sphere and watched as a distant conflict unfolded. Flashes of light lit their faces from time to time, speaking of deeds of magic being done as they watched. Suddenly both men winced at the same time. “She will surely finish him now. I cannot believe we went to such pains, only to have it all wasted like this.”

The younger man seemed not to hear. His lips were moving as he chanted something quietly to himself. Suddenly his face was lit one final time by a harsh, actinic glare. Then the sphere went dark.

“You interfered, my friend. You distracted her just as the blow was about to fall, did you not?” There was a tone of respect in the older man’s voice.

“He would never have finished that spell in time otherwise. Quite a rousing finale to the whole affair, don’t you think? Prince Brice blasting his would-be usurper to flinders just when all seemed lost?”
“And none the wiser.”

“And none the wiser. Save perhaps my nephew. He may have noticed the scry.”

“Theodorus shows much promise, your excellency. Much potential.” The old man leaned back in his chair, a huge metal construct not much smaller than a throne. “But not much else, yet. He lacks subtlety.”

John Dukas Aprenos laughed aloud at this. “Lectures on subtlety from a man who travels about in a chair borne by a fifteen foot metallic monstrosity tend to be lost in the excitement, Master.” The old man smiled back at his young friend.

“Indeed. Perhaps you should speak with him.”

“I already have. I hope when next I am in Tavia, it will be to congratulate him on his most recent promotion.”

“We will see. I take my leave of you for the moment – make free with the amenities as you like. There is a fine Thracian sherry in the cabinet if you fancy a celebratory nip. I must speak with the other faction involved in this affair and give them the happy news.”


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## blargney (Mar 6, 2002)

*Yay!*

I've been wanting to see a Byzantium update for weeks now  Thanks for obliging!
-blarg


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## coyote6 (Mar 22, 2002)

*Bumpity-bump*



			
				Ingolf said:
			
		

> *More to come soon, just a quick in-betweener to fill the gap:
> *




When you say "soon", do you mean that in terms of cosmological time, geological time, regular time, or Internet time?


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## Lost (May 28, 2002)

*Missing us?*

The muse left Keith...
Long ago.....
He got behind, and does not care to catch up.
So...
To answer your question "what time will the next installment be?"
Ummmmm
Keith Time! 

If you guys want us to try to catch you up, but not in Keiths cool style let us know.  We are still occasionaly playing, but real life of our GM and others keeps getting in the way!  
-Aoelif's player.


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## CleverName (May 28, 2002)

*More adventures, different narrator*

Well, if you a looking back at this post you will notice that it suddenly tripled in size. I know retroactively editing on this scale kind of goes against the grain of a messageboard, but I thought it was *more* important to put the events in chronological order for the sake of the folks trying to follow the storyline of Byzantium on the Shannon. 

There was A LOT that went on between Keith’s last write-up and the ones that follow below by Sean. Jon and Jess Hanna have done a great job summarizing the action of ten play sessions below. (FYI: While the following are written from Gudlag and Aoelif's perceptions of the events, they are summaries, not stories or journal entries.)

By the time we catch you up you will find that most of the characters are 10th level. Theodorus, Nicasia, and Martaine have left the party, and three characters have died, but they got better. (Hey, it’s D&D!). Theon, Solvej, and Nyssa have joined the party. 

So, here first are the summaries of adventures 31 – 39 by Jon and Jess Hanna, followed by the first narrative by Sean Holland’s new character, Nyssa. (There are references to earlier adventure write-ups, which can be found here: http://webpages.charter.net/wpeacock/palaestra/a_logs.htm )

Before we go further, I want to thank Keith again for the first 30 adventure write-ups. That was a Herculean task. While he has lost his muse for the time being, I appreciate the great work he did and hope he decides to write up some of the following sometime soon (esp. Adventures 37-39 they were really exciting)! Thanks.

Now, on with the show…

************************************

*Summary of Adventures 31-40 by Aoelif and Gudlag *

*Trials of Kingship* (Adventure 31)

We gathered Cimbri war bandleaders and awoke Brice. We told him ALL of what happened, regarding his father and Moriach. He took his father’s sword, and called us friends. He arranged to have a council circle and accept all challenges for kingship. There was an opposing faction present, mostly made up of a core of Moireach’s supporters. They were not eager to be led by a sorcerer. The Cimbri were a warrior people, and expected their king to also be a warrior. He was fought by Fia and her backer was a noble named Caldor and an ollave of Arawn. It seemed as if the opposition might win, but in a fluke misstep, the Young Brice won the kingship. (See epilogue) Brice accepted fealty of all landed Cimbri, and promised that after a year’s time, he would accept challenges again if they were dissatisfied with his rule. 

He then had us up to his hall and offered rewards. Martaine preempted the group by stating “the goodness of your reign, and averting war with the humans will be reward enough” or some such nonsense. We left. He made our Cimbri friend Brion a landed noble and gave him Boars Hall.

We return to Tavia to discover that there was a huge Iconian army camped, and they were building palisades outside. They are under the command of Marius, an Alfar mercenary. The legion is Fae, but they are working for the humans. Aoelif met Donnal O Dare, a sidhe officer in Marius’ Army. 

*Shame of the Atrapes* (Adventures 32-33)

We were asked by Nicasia to help discover why an old Cimbri woman’s body was left outside her home. We discovered after some investigation that a certain noble family, the Atrapes, who were the suppliers of the Baron’s wine, were involved. We knew that the family was going to be coming into town soon for a religious ceremony. During the religious ceremony, Nicasia dropped a baby’s lace scarf that had been clutched in the dead woman’s hands. It was pure drama. The accused nobles fell faint and quickly left! Gudlaug sent a rat in the carriage with the nobles and learned of their guilt in the murder. The nobles planned on having Nicasia killed since she obviously knew something of the murders. We did not learn, however, the whole story. 

Aoelif and Boldolf were to throw an Alfar celebration party the same night and had hired bouncers that were known from previous parties at the Bad Pony  (see Adv. # 9) – Namely the half-orc, Boris, know to have ties to the Thieves’ Guild. We learned, via the rat, that the assassin who was to kill Nicasia was Boris. Gudlaug and Ingolf spied on the assassin, and watched when he was contacted by his superior via magics in the room of a run down inn, called the Bit Tongue. 

We were ready when he made his play on Nicasia, and we captured him, after a bombastic battle in the mean streets of Tavia. After telling all he knew, we let Boris go, which upon later reflection, seemed really stupid to Aoelif and Gudlaug at least. 

Aoelif and Gudlaug wanted to use the information we had learned about how the assassins contacted each other to set a trap for the master assassin, but Theodorus and Ingolf argued against it. Gudlaug went back to the room where the assassin had been, where he saw Cyril, the warden of the part of the city where Nicasia lives, leave a note on the wall, and draw the same symbol on the wall that the assassin had. After the warden left, Gudlaug read the note, which basically said, “Not in my part of town!” Gudlaug turned into a bird, and waited on the windowsill to see what happened. After about 20 minutes, the master assassin stepped through the symbol. He saw the bird, and blasted it with a lightning bolt. Gudlaug flew off. 

Theodorus assured the others that he had a means of getting the nobles to confess their crime to the Baron. His “plan”, which he didn’t let the others in on, was to fly invisibly into the Baron’s house and attempt to confront the murderers on his own. Unfortunately for him, the Baron’s house was warded against just such intrusions as these, and Brec, the Baron’s advisor, caught him who we had worked with before. She was really angry with Theodorous, but kept relatively cool. The others were called in, after Theodorous spilled his guts, and eventually the Baron sorted it all out.

The nobles were brought before the Baron, and confessed their crimes. The son of the family and his wife had had a baby, which was the source of all of the problems. We cast spells on the baby to show its true nature – it was Cimbri!

The young couple had consummated their wedding in an old Cimbri temple. We believe the Faerie spirits, unbeknownst to them, still had power and worked some of it on them. She gave birth 9 months later to a baby Cimbri, not a noble human! Faced with this scandal, the child’ grandmother hired a sorcerer to mask the baby’s race, and then had everyone killed who knew the truth. The dead Cimbri outside of Nicasia’s house was their nursemaid. The grandmother of the child was behind it all. The Baron sentenced her to stop at the druid Crossbyr’s grove, to receive Faerie’ punishment, then wander, banished from Tavia for the rest of her life. The son was now in charge of the family. He and his wife were not so punished, but had penalties placed on them by the Baron. Nicasia received part of their wine concession for their offense of planning on having her killed.

At some other point, Gudlaug and Aoelif entered the Unseelie World (Shadow Plane) to explore a bit and see the REAL TAVIA! Aoelif freaked out when she saw all of the dead of Tavia walking around. She ran off. Gudlaug went and got her. On another visit to the Shadow Plane, while out in the woods, they saw and fought a giant shadow umber hulk. It was driven off by Gudlaug’s magic and Aoelif’s fighting prowess.

*Sorcerer’s Gambit* (Adventure 34)

We rested for a bit, and discovered that Basil punished Theodorus for his breaking and entering the Baron’s house. He was banned from the Collegium and removed as the Keeper of the Libraries. 

Theodorus was pissed, and blamed Brec for his downfall. We decided to adventure for a while till things settled down and use that time to finally start investigating Zaccara’s Eagon situation. (He had been “bodynapped” way back in adventure 23). A few spells and educated guesses later it was determined he was in the South, probably on the coast of the Old Country, near the borders of Sylva. As a cover we came up with the idea of a trade caravan — Theodorus wanted to get his revenge by coming back with “Wagons full of cash.” 

After much preparation we set out with our horses and wagons and got about two days from Tavia. Suddenly, Basil showed up, his robes smoking, and stated that the Baron’s donjon had been demolished, and the Eagon Stone stolen!! (The stone had been encased in concrete, poured into a wine cask., and placed in on of the Baron’s cells – way back in Adventure # 8)  Basil’s wards altered him to the theft, but were unable to prevent it. He teleported us back to Tavia, and then got after the murderous thieves. 

We tracked them to a small copse outside the city, where discovered that the disemboweled shadow umber hulk -- the same one which had fought Aoelif and Gudlaug on the Shadow Plane!  We realized the bugbears killed their Umber Hulk before we got caught up to them, to get the Eagon stone it had swallowed. They were just about to escape when we got to them. We killed a couple, but the others escaped with the stone back to the Shadow Plane.

We followed, and fought them, only to discover that they were under the command of the very sorcerer who had recaptured Zaccara in the Shadow Plane! A furious battle ensued. The Sorcerer, a Shadow Alfar named Arkyn, was handily beating us, since we were mostly blind and our spells were being severely hampered because were on the Shadow Plane. We managed to get the upper hand, however, when Martaine cast Hold Person on the sorcerer. Theodorus leapt forward and hacked the head off of the frozen, helpless sorcerer, which angered Aoelif. We also captured one of the bugbears for interrogation.

*Shadows and Water* (Adventure 35)

We took the head, the Eagon stone, and the bugbear back to Tavia. Basil set up a place where the stone could hopefully be better guarded. We interrogated the bugbear, and the lifeless head, and learned of a portal that they used on the Shadow Plane to travel about. 

We also learned that the Eagon that was in command of Z. body was called Lorcan the Gathererer. He was busy rounding up many of Balor’s scattered artifacts and allies and sending them to Dun Scaith, the Fortress of Shadow.

A creature named Nadezhda guarded the portal. The sorcerer’s head cackled when he spoke of this creature, but he wouldn’t give more details. We knew that there were other bugbears that were waiting for them at the portal. If we did not act soon, the ones that had sent them, namely the Eagon called Lorcan, would know that the mission Arkyn and the bugbears had been sent on was a failure.

We quickly prepared for travel on the Shadow Plane, and Gudlaug took us there. The Bugbear led us to the Gate/Pools of Nadezhda, where we killed the rest of the bugbears. We were led into a cave behind a waterfall, while chasing the last bugbear, where we encountered the creature. Nadezhda turned out to be a black shadow dragon! 

We spoke with her. She told us the bad guys paid her to use her portals, and then she started noticing all the expensive stuff we were wearing. She trapped us and demanded all of Aoelif’s gold to “buy our leave.” Aoelif gave it up without a second thought We all to returned to Tavia. We decided to get better prepared, and then go back and kick some dragon ass. We went back to the portal, and had a huge fight with the Black Wyrm, chasing her all about the three pools that were in the cave. We finally killed her, retrieved her treasure, and regained Aoelif’s money. Gudlaug and Aoelif stayed and guarded the pools entrance as the others return to Tavia to get prepared to go search for Zaccara.

*The Pools of Nadezhda* (Adventure 36)

The others returned, and we determined that the portal was underwater. We learned that it took “activators” to trigger the portal, and that it could go to three places. The activators were objects taken from the locations the portal went to. One was where we now were. A second seemed to be a water-filled cavern where Theodorous had previously scryed the Eagon possessing Zaccara. The third was a weird place where there was an altar to Trianus, a Rolgulkan deity of Demons and Magic as well as Atavis, the *human* Devil! There was a baby’s crib in the room as well as some kind of demoic looking ogre. We decided not to go there. Although Ingolf mused on the stories Carijzan told them of Lord Zakarij’s daughter and her human-summoned, devilish husband  (see adv. #17). 

We went to the cavern where Zaccara had been. Ingolf went first to scout around. Inside the cavern was a chained up chest, which Ingolf was unable to open. After finding a tunnel that led to the mountains above, he came and got the rest of us. The cavern had ocean water in it, and obviously filled up when the tide came in. We knew we were far south of Tavia, on the southern shore of Iconium. While scouting around some other caves under the surface of the ocean, Gudlaug who was swimming around as a porpoise was attacked by a Fomorian! He was stabbed, and he fled. He tried casting a spell against the Fomorian, who was chasing him, but it failed. He fled away, knowing that he had given himself away as a spell-casting porpoise. We climbed up out of the cavern, and soon made our way to the town of Lykia. 

*The Lykian Gauntlet* (Adventure 37-39)

We spent a few days in the town scouting around, learning of the nobles, the Ptolus family and the lay of the land generally from a very inquisitive centaur named Jason.  He explained that there was a religious festival going on, which made our being there easier to explain. This festival of St. Rustica had both a Logosian and Faerie counterpart. The former was a formal blessing of the crops, celebrated with flowers. The latter took place at night when flowers were given as an invitation to go out into the fields and…well take have a little blessing of your own. 

Nicasia discovered that the Eagon possessed Zaccara (called Kastor in these parts) was posing as a ships captain who was very popular around town – supposedly a suitor to Count Ptolus youngest daughter, Catella. His ship was anchored around the coast near the caverns where the portal and the Fomorians were. 

One morning Gudlaug turned into a seagull and flew out to get a look at the ship. There were some other seagulls flying around the ship, as well as a big shark in the water. Gudlaug cast Speak With Animals to talk with the seagulls, which was a mistake. They flew down to the ship, and then a big eagle flew up out of the ship and hit Gudlaug with a Flame strike. He turned and flew away at top speed, but not before a second Flame strike took him down to close to dead. He managed to escape with the eagle giving chase. He flew into some woods, and turned into s dog. Then he trotted back to town as the eagle and its minions flew overhead. 

When he described the ship Theodorus recognized it as the ship that Carijzan had described. The one  bringing the human devil worshippers to Zakarij’s land. Theodorus   believed that it may have been owned by the Ptolus. Now he knew it to be true. These connotations were dire... there was an evil mix of Balor and Atavis agents holding some power here.

There was to be a service, which Zaccara was going to attend, so the humans went there. We witnessed the High Priest of the city attended by the Zaccara/Eagon. A great minotaur, Croesus, guarded the decrepit old Count Ptolus. We saw the nobles of the city, two of the three children of the old count, inclding his middle son, Arcadius, and his lady, Viviana and the counts youngest daughter, Catella. 

Catella Ptolus was recognized by Gudlag as the woman he had seen months earlier when he scryed Zacarra’s body. In that vision he saw Z. place a ring containing an Eagon stone on the same young woman’s finger. He saw her jerk and then smile evilly at Z. She must be controlled by an Eagon as well! 

We left church and decided to make our plan. Ingolf sweet talked his way into the best house of ill repute in town and convinced the Madam that he was an old rival/friend of Captain Kastor’s (Zacarra). He was able to purchase a girl to entertain Zaccara that night and find where he kept the stone on his person. The rest of us stayed in the City Park fending off folks with flowers, which were treated as invitations for lovemaking, celebrating the Faerie festival of Rustica. Aoelif was asked no less than 30 times! 

The prostitute girl was successful in her task. She was a bit shaken as she was blindfolded, and felt the lord “grow bigger, colder, and clammier”. She did not find the stone, but felt a lump the size of the stone under his left nipple. All were well paid, and we decided on a course of action. We would send Nicasia and Theodorous out to scout the road which Zaccara traveled to and from the Lord’s house, and find a good place for an ambush. While they were out, Zaccara approached on horseback. Thanks to Nicasia’s great skill at hiding, they were not seen. They saw Zaccara talk to his horse, and send it to the southern gate of the town. Then he changed into a bird and flew towards the town. Nicasia and Theodorous rushed back to the city, and we all went out the southern gate to lay in wait. 

After a while, Zaccara did come through the gate, looking for his horse. We attacked! Surprisingly, was caught completely off guard, and the combination of Aoelif’s mighty short swords and the Celestial Lion which Martaine summoned quickly killed him dead! He did NOT have the spear with him, much to Aoelif’s disgruntlement. The stone was cut from the flesh of his chest. And then we realized that we probably had a 10 hour walk trying to carry his body back to the portal!

We ran (as quickly as we could) down the road for an hour to put some distance between ourselves and the gurad, then searched for a good place in the woods for Gudlaug to start his resurrection spell. During the time of his spell, the city guard came out investigating the sounds of battle. We fought them while Gudlaug finished his spell, and luckily drove them off without killing them. Gudlaug raised Zaccara but his new body was that of an Ljosalfar!

Theodorus threw the Eagon stone into his Handy Haversack, and ignored its pull successfully since. Then and there it became a great chase to the portals. As the Eagon personality was a great Druid, all of the animal companions and wards he had set during his two year stay here left their posts. This alerted EVERY ALLY that he had that something was amiss. 

We then had an encounter with the Sir Arcadius and Minoutar from the church and ten of the Ptolus calvalry.  The humans were on horseback and Minotar was planning riding us down in his chariot! Martaine rushed up and got between the knight and the Minotaur to engage it. He was struck dead the next round by the Minotaur's huge bronze axe. The rest of the party fought the knight bravely, but did not kill him before a demon was sent to his aid. The demon raised Martaine as a ghast to fight for his cause, much to our horror. Gudlaug blinded the Minotaur, and it was cut down. Eventually, all our foes were killed – not before the knight called upon Atavis to aid him.We grabbed Martaine’s undead corpse, and kept running towards the cavern. Nicasia took tender care of the withered rotting husk, which was Martaine. 

Gudlaug flew as an eagle forward to try and find where the tunnel was that led to the cavern. He saw roving bands of sailors searching for the “killers” of Lorcan. Time was running out for us. Close to the spot where he thought the tunnel entrance was, he saw a female, (noble) Fomorian, along with the demon they had fought, and other Hobgoblin warriors. It seems the female was Lorcan’s lover and was desperate to have her vengeance. 

Dawn was approaching, so the group huddled in some bushes until spells were renewed. It was decided that the best course of action was to just move forward and fight. We killed some sailors, who turned out to be disguised hobgoblins as we moved forward. The fight was ferocious – especially when one of the hobgoblins turned into a Fomorian! 

Then Aoelif was struck by a Hold Person spell, and surrounded by the Fomorions. As Nicasia broke the Hold Person spell, Aoelif was struck down dead. Luckily, Gudlaug had taken the Last Breath spell, and ran forward and immediately brought her back to life, although she was still unconscious. The party beat the rest of the villains, and headed for the tunnel. We heard riders from the town approaching as Nicaisa dimension doored the party into the tunnel, still dragging Martaine’s corpse. 

Gudlaug turned into a bat and flew ahead. He saw two more Formarians in the tunnel. They received some kind of signal as he watched, and they went to the chained up chest and unlocked it. Immediately, chains and ichor oozed out of the chest into the water. Some type of creature moved about in the chains, which formed a web over the water. The portal was under the chains! Gudlaug flew back and reported this to the rest. Ingolf (damn glad he did not pick the lock on that chest’s lock in the first place) brought forth the folding boat, which Zaccara and Gudlaug rode in. The rest waded towards the Fomorians. The Fomorians charged the group and another battle began. Gudlaug turned into a shark, while the others dealt damage as they saw fit. Aoelif leapt forward to engage the chain-wielding creature, a Kyton. After the Fomorians were killed, the group turned its attention to the creature, but it was extremely hard to hit. It took a very magic weapon. Eventually, the creature was killed, and we dove through the portal, as others charged into the cavern. 

When we emerged from the water of the portal near Tavia, we saw Lord Vihar and Crossbyr waiting for us. Crossbyr, who Gudlaug had called after the fight with The Black dragon, had in turn called on Vihar since the portal was in his land, albeit on the Shadow Plane. Vihar agreed to guard the portal. The heroes returned to Tavia, extremely tired, and/or dead.

Back on the material plane, Gudlaug began the ritual of resurrecting Martaine. Luckily, Martaine returned as a human, who looked essentially the same as he had before. The group staggered back into Tavia and took the Eagon stone to Basil, who put it with the other stone that was there. The party pondered what to do next with TWO Eagon!!

*******************************


Nyssa is being played by Sean Holland (Martaine's player). Her account begins during the transition between the two characters. 

During this time Nicasia (Laura Heilman) also decided to retire her character (Nicasia) from adventuring. Her new character is Nyssa's bodyguard. Other, more startling changes are afoot as well.

*******************************

Nyssa’s Journal: Part 1 (Adventure 40)

March 21st (Fast of the Archangel Stephen)

It seems that I have chosen the right moment to start a new volume of my journal, today I was summon by the Collegium to the city of Tavia. (A small border-town on the edge of Empire, known for its wool of all things. It is close to both Rolgulka and several Cimbri tribes and is a nexus of the wool and slave trade, or so I am told.) Goodbye to Koresses for now. 

Using mirror and slidestep, W. and I arrived in the Collegium Tower of Tavia. There we were met by Master Basil, Dean of the Tavian Collegium and an Evoker, and taken to an abandoned mansion that was bristling with guards, magical wards and even a Paladin-Captain of the Faith (whose name, I later learned was Amantius) and his squires.

The matter at hand was the containment of a rather unusual Fae artifact, a small black stone that contained the spiritual essence of a powerful dark Fae sorcerer. The being is able to possess those who are in contact with the stone and even force those nearby to grasp it. Curious to say the least, as I did not know that being other than demons were capable of possession. Perhaps it has to do with the reduction of the being to pure spirit? More research is needed, obviously. It was captured by a local group of heroes, some Fae and some Imperial, who are off on another task at the moment.

The difficulty is containing such an item. Master Basil informed me that it was responsible for the death of the former dean of Tavia and his chief apprentice. Not only did it need to be contained but it was being actively sought by dark powers so it needed to be hidden from them. It took some thought, but a solution presented itself. A box was needed, its exterior to be of bronze bound lead with a clasp lock, hinges and a handle wrapped with silver wire, while its interior is to be of mirror polished silver. Between the silver and the lead shall be inserted appropriate verses against evil from the Logothium. The lead shall symbolically shield the contents while the purity of the silver and the mirror facings shall keep the evil spirit from reaching beyond its prison with the verses as an added level of protection. (I wish we had more time, properly the box should be bound and faced with steel to protect it from damage and the verses of the Logothium should have been engraved onto the back of the silver mirrors so that do not disintegrate with age.) Time constraints aside, I was very pleased with this solution and Master Basil was most complimentary.

We immediately set to work to build and invest such a box with the needed wards. Decian be praised that the local metal guilds were capable of building the physical parts of my ward box quickly while the local Bishop was happy to provide a few freshly scribed pages of verses from the Logothium.

The day was hurried and busy, but the investing has begun and so far no problems have emerged. The smiths delivered the actual box just after midnight, spectacular work for such a short period, and our initial round of investing did not end until almost dawn. Perhaps tomorrow I will have a chance to see some of the town between the investment periods.

Though I must say I find such exercises in practical problem solving much more satisfying that cataloging the wonders of Faerie and interviewing Fae sorcerers who try to seduce me.

March 22nd (Saint Martin’s Day)

No rest for the weary. Up before noon to a large breakfast. Tavian hospitality is good even if the house is in rather ill repair. W. seems less than impressed with our surroundings.

We return to the investment soon after breakfast. Master Basil is easy to work with and seems to have no difficulty in following my lead in this matter. How refreshing! Surprisingly, for a new project, everything followed plan. W. does make sure we have enough to eat and drink as she knows I would forget otherwise. She is such a savior.

That evening, as the investment nears completion, the local Tavian heroes arrive at the mansion. According to Master Basil, they are quite accomplished having achieved many tasks for the Baron, the local Cimbi Kings and even Lord Vihar of Rolgulka! They are the ones who captured the dark fae spirit before. As we can afford to take a break, we do so and I am formally introduced to them. They are indeed a mixed group, three Iconians, three fae and another . . . They do not seem to have a leader as such, acting as a democracy in the best Sylvan tradition; that is, rather disorganized with each speaking their turn and occasionally over each other.

They are:

_Theodorus Commenos Alexius_, member of the Colligium and scion of the Commenos. A skilled wizard, I am told, but he seems to be one of the political wizards. That could well lead to trouble.

_Ingolf Egilson_, an Alfar bard, rather roguish in appearance but he seemed confident enough. Though I did not like the way he looked me over.

_Gudlaug_, a dwarf, dekkalfar as they call themselves, and a Druid. A very unkempt and dour person. I had heard that dwarves were argumentative and he is no exception.

_Martaine_, a Priest of Logos, and a Valerian I gathered. He seemed thoughtful but also uncomfortable with his face. Most odd.

_Aeolif Snorrisdottir_, another elf and one of the legendary Fianna. What she lacks in height, she makes up for in fierceness! She seems very forthright but a little rash. I will have to ask W. to tell me more of the Fianna as Aeolif is the first one that I have met.

_Nicasia Valeria Xerecian_, a very beautiful young noblewoman, even W. noticed her. She seems out of place among the others. She understands the art of investment but no woman of the Xerician line is part of the Collegium. I wonder what her story is? Master Basil was rather evasive about her talents.

_Zaccara_, also an elf, but he was once a human. It seems that the druid reincarnated him and he came back in his current form. How peculiar! I wonder what it is like to suddenly change one’s race? However, he does not seem overly pleased with his transformation. 

They talked of their recent adventure, of Atavists and Fomorians. The Fomorians are a race of evil Fae giants, the “opposite of the Sidhe” said Aeolif. It was also said that they were thought to have been destroyed at the hands of the High King Finvarra and the Sidhe. (Find out more about the Fomorians.)

Names of import were mentioned as Atavists, including most terrible accusations. If they are true, this is most worrying. Darkness at the heart of the Empire. With the blessing of the Saints, and the aid of the Church and Collegium, these evil men shall be swept away.

I learn more about the sprit in the stone, it is an Eagon, one of the elite of Balor, the King of the Fomorians who was slain by Finvarra centuries past. (Learn about Balor.) The Eagons, however, have cheated death and seek to restore their fallen lord. It seems they will pose a great threat in the future especially as they have allied with the Atavists in the Empire and other dark powers in Rolgulka. All these evils joined in a dark pact to overthrow the forces of light, both Logosian and Fae. Once that is done, then they can fight among themselves to determine who will rule all. But until then they have a shared interest in pulling down what exists now. A most dangerous situation.

Their adventure was told in great detail to Brec, a bard in high service as advisor to the Baron of Tavia, Severus Dukas Aprenos, while Master Basil, W. and I listen on. Many dangers overcome and fierce foes defeated. Including travel to and from Terra Umbra. If only I could have seen that!

It seems the priest was slain by a minotaur, how tragic to think of one of Alhaia’s people turned to evil. Perhaps he was misguided; the Taureans can be blind in their loyalty. I do hope so, I hate to think that one of the brave Taureans could fall so far. Martaine was only recently reincarnated, though he remained human, perhaps that explains why he is uncomfortable with his face.
A discussion of what to be done with the Eagons that they had captured followed. There was much acrimony on both sides of the debate, between Fae and Imperial interests. Gudlug and Commenos on the far ends of their respective sides, I should add. It strikes me as strange for a group that has been through so much together to be so combative among them. Perhaps it is the strain of the recent events?

Two of the heroes, Commenus and Xerecian, are to construct a second ward box under my instruction while Master Basil and I finish the first as we now have two Eagon to contain. The smiths will be busy again tonight! I hope that the Baron sees that they are properly compensated. Commenus was most complimentary towards my design for the ward box. At least he has good manners.

March 23rd (Saint Arion’s Day)

Exhausting day. Finished investing the first ward box with Master Basil and assisted Commenus and Xerecian with theirs. They work efficiently, but Xerician especially is a quick study, she has obviously invested items before. I am almost certain that several of the magical items that she wears were invested by her own hand.

A very full day with little time to rest. At least we are brought good meals! Thank Saint Theophania for W.

March 24th (Saint Susanna’s Day)

Done and done. The second ward box is completed! Xerecian does good work, and, though it was Commenus who cast the actual spells, it was Xerecian who prepared the final matrix for investment. She does not work with chants and holy symbolism, so she does not seem to be a mystic of the faith. The flows around her are arcane almost without a doubt. Could she be a sorceress? Among one of the oldest family of Iconium? I must find out more.

A final testing of the ward boxes was performed and the second stone was transferred without mishaps. Thank Logos. I am glad to see such cruel items safely locked away. Now, a meal, a bath and some rest.

My, much needed, sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by the warning horns from the north gate. Fearing attack, W. and I gathered our arms and armours and hurried to the gate. We arrived in time to watch the gates being opened and the Lady Brec, mounted, and the heroes, on foot, step through to confront three charioteers and perhaps a score of riders, all glowing with power and the very essence of faerie. Was this the shining host that was spoken of? Brec and the others talked with the leader of the glowing fae, a beautiful and terrible woman with streaming clouds of black hair that twisted in some phantom wind. Some agreement was reached and Brec made haste back towards the citadel to prepare and audience for the Sidhe. After some small altercation at the gate, the fae were welcomed by Martaine and the others into the Bad Pony (a local inn) to await the Baron’s pleasure. Seeing that the city, and ourselves, were safe, W. and I withdrew to the mansion.

We had just settled in again when word came from the Baron summoning us to his court. We made our way to the citadel directly; such an order is not to be refused! We arrived to find a confrontational situation, the Baron, Brec and others sat across a fine table from the powerful fae woman, who was introduced as Rhanalt, in service to the High King Finvarra as high captain of the Glimmerglas (the High King’s royal guard) and a sorceress of some power, I surmise. Three oddly handsome young warriors, who deferred to Rhanalt, stood behind her chair. The heroes were off to one side, the fae towards the Glimmerglas and the Iconians more toward the Baron’s side of the table. (Zaccara was absent. I later learned that he had returned home to say goodbye to his family.)

It seemed that the Glimmerglas host had been sent to retrieve the imprisoned Eagons. I was asked to explain how the ward boxes worked. I did so and Rhanalt seem to quickly grasp the magic involved and seemed pleased with the solution. High praise indeed!

Rhanalt and the Glimmerglas are also told the stories by Ingolf of how the heroes first encountered and later fought the two Eagons (on separate occasions). A tale of much magic, adventure, danger and bravery. They truly are heroes, even if only half the tales are true! (Some of what the bard sang was obviously exaggeration.) Even Rhanalt was impressed with their adventures and daring and promised that their songs would be sung and their tales told at the High King’s court. Lucky heroes! I wonder what the High King will make of a heroic priest and wizard.

There was some conflict over if the Glimmerglas should be allowed to take the Eagon. The Glimmerglas have no doubt that only they have to right to guard the Eagon and keep them from the world. The Baron argued, quite reasonably, that as his lands and peoples had been attacked, it was his duty to do all that he could to understand the threat to his people and learn how to fight it. The debate ranged on with Commenos vocally supporting the Baron, though I am not sure if that was a benefit to his position. Again tensions within the band of heroes are revealed as they advised on what should be done, the Fae supporting the Glimmerglas and the Iconians, the Baron. It seems that the heroes remain divided on this matter, even a day of rest did not lead to any relaxation of Commenos’ or the Druid’s position. I was impressed, however, that the Baron did not wilt or waver in front of Rhanalt’s obvious strength and force of will, he held his ground and defended his honour and that of Empire.

Rhanalt claims that only the Glimmerglas know how to contain the Eagon. Further, she said that they couldn’t be destroyed except by touching them to the bones of their creator, a sorcerous lich whose name (to add to the confusion) is Eagon. It seems that the Glimmerglas have known of these Eagon for some time but these are the only Eagon in captivity. (They evaded the question when asked how many other stones they had. Which among the boastful Fae must mean that either they had none or they lost them!) It also seems that there are thirteen of the Eagon of which only four or five have hosts at the moment. Where the others might be was not discussed.

Finally, Martaine stepped forward and proposed that the Glimmerglas take the Eagon that was a druid, while the Church and Collegium contained the Eagon that was a sorcerer. Rhanalt and Gudlaug, the Druid, were not pleased about this. Indeed, Gudlaug was downright insulting, speaking to us as if we were idiot children. “We know more than you will ever learn,” indeed! Rhanalt was more accommodating, agreeing with the following caveats: That each group would send two observers to monitor that the precautions of the other and that Rhanalt would return in a year and a day to see what progress we had made and revisit the issue. Still rather arrogant, but not as bad as the Druid’s comments!

The Baron intends to send a churchman and another to be decided with the Glimmerglas, while I assume two of the Glimmerglas will accompany the stone into Empire. Neither side seems entirely happy with the solution but at least honor is satisfied. For a brief moment it looked likely to spark a bloody conflict that would have only been of benefit to the dark powers. At least in the end everyone seemed to realize that we share the same goals in defeating the Eagon and their allies. Pride should not blind us to the need to work together.

Tomorrow at noon, we will meet to finalize all this. Which should allow me to catch at least another few hours of rest.

Glossary

Alhaia - Nyssa’s Taurean (minotaur) bodyguard during her two years in Sylva.

Invest - To make an item magical by transferring part of your own essence into it (i.e. creating a magic item).

Saint Theophania - Patron Saint of cooks and bakers. A martyr from the war with Rolgulka who was burned alive in her own ovens when she refused to reveal where the city’s grain stores had been hidden. She called upon Logos as the flames consumed her. Logos answered her call and Theophania was drawn into heaven and the flames of the ovens leapt out to consume her tormentors, chasing the Rolgulkans through the very streets and from the town. Later a Church in her honor was built on the sight of her ascension where the ovens still bake bread for the faithful.

Taurean - A citizen of the Sylvan polis Taurus on the Taurus, a city of minotaurs.

Terra Umbra- “shadow earth” (i.e. the plane of shadow).
“Using mirror and slidestep”- Here Nyssa is referring to using a scrye spell (through a mirror) to learn a new location and then slidestep (teleport) to that location - a common practice among more powerful members of the Collegium. Special easily memorized rooms are set up in most Collegium towers to facilitate such travel.

W. - Nyssa’s abbreviation for her bodyguard and traveling companion — Solvej, known in the human tongue as Winter.


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## coyote6 (May 28, 2002)

Finally! 

So, are Zacarra, Martaine, and Nicasia now NPCs? Or PCs-in-"exile"? In the latter two cases, why the change?


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## CleverName (May 29, 2002)

Martaine and Nicasia are on indefinite hiatus since their players felt that they both would rather pursue "non-adventuring" intrests. Nicasia intrest is in business and using monies generated by that business to secure a noble title. (This will most likely take years to accomplish. Martiane is intrested in his scholarly/theological pursuits. 

Zacarra has been more or less permanently retired since Jon was having much more fun playing Gudlag. Zacarra's rebirth as an Alfar complicated his plans, so rather than return to the sea, he plans to visit his family and then join the Alfar mercenary legion. Interestingly, his ressurrection as an Alfar did cure him of his half-fomor state.


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## CleverName (May 29, 2002)

*Nyssa’s Journal: Part 2 (Adventure 41)*

March 25th (Saint Estonia’s Day)- Managed to catch some sleep after the excitement of last night.  Took my time and with W’s help, managed to look the part of a noble wizardress for the meeting with the glimmerglass.

The entire host, all twenty-odd of them, were packed into the Baron’s audience hall.  The local high Druid (Krossbyr, I think his name was) even made an appearance.  (It seems there is some lingering conflict between him and Brec.  I will be curious to find out what it is.)  The Paladin-Captain and the Commenos were chosen as the Imperial representatives, while the glimmerglass choose Kerwyn, their local man (for his experience with Iconians), and Mera, one of Rhanalt’s personal bodyguards.

It is all over very quickly and relations are cordial at the end as the group prepare to leave.  The ‘Shining Host’ is indeed that as they wrap themselves is a aura of shimmering magic which allows they to travel with great alacrity.

The rest of the heroes gather at the Bad Pony to celebrate a task well done.  W and I join in, we deserve it.  The remaining heroes seem at a bit of a loss on what to do now.  Xerecian is planning a trade caravan of some sort I gather, she seems to be associated with one of the local wine-makers.

I managed to talk to Gudlaug and he agrees to take me on a jaunt to Terra Umbra sometime in the near future.  How wonderful, first hand experience at last!  Aeolif seem to think that I will see something disturbing in Terra Umbra but I am quite certain I am mentally fortified to face the shadow images of our world.



26th March (Saint Constansus’ Day)- A day to explore Tavia and its close environs.  It seems to be a typical border town, though more prosperous than most.  The sign of recent building and further expansion seems to be in the work.  I am led to believe that Lord Vihar of Rolgulka will soon be completing some major trade agreements with the Baron which should increase the town’s wealth even further.

Currently there is a unit of several hundred Alfar mercenaries in a fortified camp across the river from the city.  They seem very well disciplined but I am not sure why they are here.

Dinner with Master Basil at the Collegium.  A nice affair where I am able to meet the other journeymen of Tavia (no women though).  They seem like a good enough group, not too stuffy.  Master Basil suggests that I keep in contact with the heroes as they may be able to aid me in my studies of Faerie.


27th March (Saint Michael of Thallia’s Day)- Meet with Xerecian for lunch at her home (quite a nice place).  Afterward she is kind and allows me to ask her about her talents.  It turns out that I am right!  She is able to give me some very useful information about natural magic and how she perceives it.  Xerecian is much clearer in her thinking about magic than most of the Fae sorcerers I have talked to.  She was able to answer many questions that most of the Fae could not even begin to formulate a reply to.  She further considers her talent to be a gift from Logos, which I agree, but how that would gall many in the Collegium!

A very enlightening lunch and my information on sorcery is greatly improved.

That evening, meet with Aoelif and the other fae of the heroes.  The fae heroes are planning on visiting the King of the Helvetti tribe, one of the local rulers and friend of their, and they have invited me along.  Since I have already exhausted Tavia entertainment possibilities, I readily agreed.


28th March (Saint Thomas’ Day)- We (Aeolif, Gudlaug, Ingolf, W and I) leave in the morning toward the lands of the Helvetti.  It is easy to tell that we are on the frontier, the roads are only graveled.  I will have to suggest to the Baron that he puts to Alfar mercenaries to work building proper roads.

29th March (Saint Basali’s Day)- Last day in Imperial territory for the nonce, tomorrow we cross into the Fae lands of the Cimbri.


30th March (Saint Hipparchus’ Day)- We cross into Faerie.  That evening Gudlaug returns with a new pet, a huge wolf.  It is large enough to look me in the eyes!  Poor Fuchs was quite terrified, it took me sometime to entice him out again.

Ingolf tells us the story of their last adventure in the Helvetti lands. [Detailed in Chapter IV: Trouble in Helvetti, Adventures 25-31.] Very interesting, I would be fascinating to learn more about the ritual used to create half-dragons.  I am sure that it could be applied in other ways if we could understand the principles behind it.


1st April (Saint Xanthippe’s Day)- We arrive a Boar Hall, a recently rebuilt settlement lorded over by Brion, a friend of the heroes who had helped them to defeat the huge shadow-boar.  Inside the hall is a shield coved in fur from one of its ears!  I had no idea such fauna existed in Terra Umbra.  The fur itself is a strange grey-black that vanishes into the shadows.  It is everything I have been told that Umbric creatures should look like.

Gudlaug has also acquired a rat who talks!  Very unusual.  I wonder if such things are common among the Fay?

Brion warmly welcomes us and holds a large feast in our honour (well, primarily for his friends, the heroes, be we are also included).  The feast runs late into the night with much music and merriment.

There are rumours that a dragon, the father of the dark druidess, is in the area looking for revenge.  Brion has heard the rumours, but has no facts that confirm them.  The heroes are of the opinion that it is possible that they are true.


2nd April (Fast of Saint Ionna)- The countryside here is quite lovely and it seems to have recovered from what minor damage was inflicted upon it by the machinations of the dark druidess.

Ingolf asks me to appraise some of the furs that Brion’s hunters had collected as part of a trade deal with Xerecian.  I give my best estimate, luckily I noted the prices of such in the market of Koressos.

Glad that the feast was yesterday, it makes fasting much easier today.


3rd April (Saint Alexander’s Day)- The Helvetti do not seem to have many magical wonders of their own, but they are polite and cheerful people.  I learn from Brion’s people that King Brice is a sorcerer and a warrior, which causes some to doubt his kingly abilities as he is more than just a warrior.  Such a strange view.

4th April (Saint Leontius’ Day)- As we are preparing to ride out towards King Brice’s Hall, a messenger from the King arrives to learn our itinerary.  It seem we are going first to the Helvetti’s sacred grove to meet with their new druid and then on to King Brice’s hall.  I have never seen a sacred grove first hand before, I am looking forward to it.


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## Knight-of-Roses (May 29, 2002)

CleverName said:
			
		

> *Martaine and Nicasia are on indefinite hiatus since their players felt that they both would rather pursue "non-adventuring" intrests. Nicasia intrest is in business and using monies generated by that business to secure a noble title. (This will most likely take years to accomplish). Martiane is intrested in his scholarly/theological pursuits. *




Martaine's (and Nyssa's) player here.

Martaine has always been primarily focused on revising certain aspects of the Church's doctrine.  And after being killed and reincarnated, he decided that he really need to get it all written down and sent out before he get himself permanently killed while adventuring.

And, Nyssa is a character I have been wanting to play for ages.  Someone who views magic as technology, i.e. as a way to solve problems and make life better.  She is my first attempt at a 3rd ed Wizard so wish me luck!

-Sean


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## Lost (May 29, 2002)

*Catch up?*

Wayne's summary left out alot!  We will try to write up a summary to catch folks up on the inbetween stuff missing!  It will be purely Gudlaug and Aoelif's dim view of it all.  
-Aoelif's player...But not for long if the party doesnt save me!!!!


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## CleverName (May 29, 2002)

*Intermission: A Cimbri Story*

Background: The Helvetti, The Sons of the Stag, are a powerful, warlike Cimbri people whose noble house has been plagued by foriegn powers medding in its succession of late. 

About 50 years ago they nearly destroyed Tavia, had not the Credi (another Cimbri tribe) risen against them to stand with the humans. 

This is a story of how the Helvetti came to the area around Tavia and how they came to supplant the former inhabitants of their land, another Cimbri people, the Saluri.

As you can tell, the Cimbri are often their own worst enemy...


*Ronan’s Tale: The Death of the Saluri* 

The Helvetti followed the Great Stag from their old lands in the West to the borders of the great forest of the Saluri. There the great stag slew the largest buck of the wood and gathered a harem. So there the great Druid of the Helvetti said we should dwell. 

But the Saluri were jealous of their hunting grounds and made war upon the Helvetti. And the two Cimbri peoples were locked in battle for many years, but the battles did not go well for the brave Helvetti at first.

The King of the Saulri, Cathal, was blessed by the gods and had 12 sons, but they were slain by the Helvetti. But in the spring his last wife game him a 13th son. Upon this child’s birth, the old King did not know what to do, the provender for his other son’s funerals took most of his wealth. He went to the crossroads near his rath and decided to foster the son upon whomever came first. 

Herne the Hunter came by first, who already knew what filled Cathal’s heart, and said to him, poor man, I pity you. I will hold your child, and will take charge of it and make it happy on earth. 

“No, you may not have it, you will turn my son against me as you favor my foes of the forest.”

Herne turned into a deer and sprang away into the wood. 

Then a shining nobleman appeared on the road and the King to him said, “What do you seek?” 

“If you will take me as a foster father for your child, I will give him gold in plenty and all the joys of the world as well.” 

The man asked, “who are you?” 

“I am the Dagda.’

“I do not desire to have you foster my son, said the man, you favor only rich Kings, and leave the poor ones to hunger.”

Then came a man all in gray riding upon on a white horse, with bells upon the bridal and he said, “Take me as foster father.’

Then Cathal asked, “Who are you?”

“I am Arawn, lord of death, and I make all equal.”

“Then said King Cathal, you are the right one, you take the rich as well as the poor, without distinction, you shall be foster father.” 

Death answered, I will make your child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend can lack nothing.” 

The man said, “Come back in a year and a day and you shall have my son.”

“When the time was up the King gave Ronan, his son. to Grim Awran. And his foster father took him into the gray lands of Annoon. There he learned to hunt and fight from the best of the dead warriors. When he was a man he was returned to his father. And Ronan was a great warrior but the power of the Helvetti had grown, so still times were hard with old King Cathal

One day Death reappeared to Ronan and led him forth into a forest, and showed him a herb which grew there, and said, “Now you shall receive your foster father's present. I make you a celebrated healer. When you are called to a patient, I will always appear to you. If I stand by the head of the sick man, you may say with confidence that you will make him well again, and if you give him of this herb he will recover, but if I stand by the patient's feet, he is mine, and you must say that all remedies are in vain, and that no healer in the world could save him. But beware of using the herb against my will, or it might fare ill with you.” 

It was not long before the youth was the most famous healer in all of the Cimbri lands. He had only to look at the patient and he knew his condition at once, whether he would recover, or must needs die. So they said of him, and from far and wide people came to him, sent for him when they had anyone ill, and gave him so much money that he soon became a rich man. Now it so befell that the king became ill, and the healer was summoned, and was to say if recovery were possible. 

But when he came to the bed, death was standing by the feet of the sick man, and the herb did not grow which could save him. If I could but cheat death for once, thought the healer, he is sure to take it ill if I do but, as I am his godson, he will shut one eye, I will risk it. 

He therefore took up his sick father, and laid him the other way, so that now death was standing by his head. Then he gave the king some of the herbs, and he recovered and grew healthy again. But death came to Ronan, looking very black and angry, threatened him with his finger, and said, “You have betrayed me, this time I will pardon it, as you are my godson, but if you venture it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me. 

Soon afterwards the king's of the Credi’s daughter fell into a severe illness. She was his only child, and he wept day and night, so that he began to lose the sight of his eyes, and he caused it to be made known that whosoever rescued her from death should be her husband and inherit the his lands and Kingdom. 

When Ronan heard of this he though it might be the salvation for his Father’s kingdom. The healer came to the sick girl's bed, he saw death by her feet. He ought to have remembered the warning given by his foster father, but he was so infatuated by the great beauty of the king's daughter, and the happiness of becoming her husband, that he flung all thought to the winds. He did not see that death was casting angry glances on him, that he was raising his hand in the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He raised up the sick girl, and placed her head where her feet had lain. Then he gave her some of the herb, and instantly her cheeks flushed red, and life stirred afresh in her. 

When Arawn saw that for a second time his own property had been misused, he walked up to the healer with long strides, and said, “All is over with you, and now the lot falls on you”. Awran seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand, which he could not resist, and led him into a cave below the earth. 

There Ronan saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in countless rows, some large, some medium-sized, others small. Every instant some were extinguished, and others again burnt up, so that the flames seemed to leap hither and thither in perpetual change. 

“See,” said Death, “these are the lights of men's lives. The large ones belong to children, the medium-sized ones to married people in their prime, the little ones belong to old people, but children and young folks likewise have often only a tiny candle.” 

“Show me the light of my life,” said Ronan, and he thought that it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end that was just threatening to go out, and said, “behold, it is there.” 

“Ah, dear foster father,” said the horrified healer, “light a new one for me, do it for love of me, that I may enjoy my life, be king of two peoples, and the husband of the king's beautiful daughter.” 

“I cannot,” answered Arawn, “one must go out before a new one is lit.” 

“Then place the old one on a new one, that will go on burning at once when the old one has come to an end,” pleaded the healer. “I will show you.”

The young man grabbed is small candle, but as he was to place it upon the new, the wax burnt his fingers and he dropped it, and was extinguished. Immediately Ronan fell on the ground, and now he himself was in the hands of death. 

And so was the wisdom of the Saluri. And so their light went out of the world. 

*fin* 

_..with apologies to the Brothers' Grimm_


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## CleverName (May 30, 2002)

*Nyssa's Journal, Part 3 (Adventure 42)*

*Nyssa’s Journal: Knight of the Air*

4th April (Saint Leontius’ Day)- (continued) W and I have an interesting talk with Aoelif as we traveled.  Aeolif is surprisingly thoughtful for one who seems so prone to react first and consider the situation later.

5th April (Saint John of Iconium’s Day)- An hour or so before dusk we arrive at the crossroad outside the Sacred Grove.  Just in time for a trade fair sponsored by Caldor, one of the local Helvetti warlords.  (Caldor, I am told, was not pleased by King Brice’s ascension to the throne of the Helvetti.)  The fair has a festive atmosphere and even some Iconian famers are here peddling their crops, assisted by, of all things, a Stephenite called Theon of Thracealus.

Witnessed a confrontation between Aoelif and Annan, one of Caldor’s warriors, who accused King Brice of having achieved his crown through ‘foreign wizardry.’  It led to the drawing of steel but not blood as Gudlaug intervened.  However, neither the word of the Fianna or the Druid seemed to be able to convince Annan that King Brice achieved his throne justly.  Annan claimed to have the word from a priest of Arawn, lord of the dead, whose word was, of course, undoubtable.  You could almost hear Gudlaug grin his teeth!

The Stephenite invites us to stay with the Iconian farmer, Xenos, and his people by Theon.  (Father Theon, oddly, I would have thought his Order title would have trumped that, but to each their own.)  Xenos was most kind and very generous with his food, I made sure he was well rewarded for his kindness.

Afterward, we traveled to the edge of the Sacred Grove, a dark and foreboding place.  Sadly, only Druids are allowed in the Grove, so we waited while Gudlaug and Ingolf ventured within to speak with the Druid who now keeps the Grove.  They both came out looking a little troubled, but no explanation was immediately forthcoming.

It was decided to keep watches, just in case Annan decided to stir up trouble.

6th April (Saint Eleandra’s Day)- Annan and eight of his brother warriors are out riding about in the pre-dawn light.  While Annan wishes to ‘teach us a lesson’ he cannot convince the other warriors, he then rides off in a huff to report to his master, Caldor.

Traherne, our guide, tells us that we should reach King Brice’s steading by the end of the day’s ride.

While on the road, such as it is, we are attacked by a pair of chimera!  How wonderful!  One had a white dragon head and spewed frost, while the one nearest to W and I had a green head and exhaled a cloud of choking gas.  Rather nasty that.  Theon and Gudlaug quickly struck back against the white-headed chimera.  The Stephanite’s arrows struck true and Gudlaug used a water effect I had not seen before and smashed a wall of water into the beast and it fled in terror, quickly followed by the green-headed one.

Gudlaug animated the trees and they caught the green-headed chimera as the Sephanite flew after it on wings of wind.  I calmed the chimera with whom I was able to converse as it spoke Sylva (albeit very poorly).  It told us that it was hired by Macarra, a ‘dead man’, to kill us and it and its mate were paid in man-flesh (Cimbri, I suppose).  It gave us directions to Maccara’s lair, but as they were from a bird’s (or chimera’s) eye view that was not as useful as it could have been.  Lastly, I told the poor creature to leave this place and never bother us again and it flew away.

The heroes think the ‘dead man’ referred to by the chimera is the Ollave of Arawn that we had learned of and seems to be allied with Caldor.  We continue on to the royal palace of the Helvetti, a competently built hillfort, to meet with King Brice and inform him of what we have learned.

Unfortunately, we must wait as the King is meeting with his councillors.	

While waiting, W and I tour the fortress.  We also have the luck to be able to watch a Cimbri tattoo artist invest a tattoo on a young warrior.  Very interesting, if rather a painful route for a temporary effect!  I would have like to have talked with the artist but he seemed very intent upon his task.  Then back to the hall that has been set aside for us for a bath, only to find that the Stephenite had jumped in first!  It seem that chivalry, if not dead, is at least wounded.

Still, managed to be more presentable for our meeting with King Brice.  We told him what we had learned and, unsurprisingly, he was most concerned.  Gudlaug and I are to scrye upon the ‘Dead Man’ and Annan on the morrow to see what we can learn about them and their locations.  Then, on the day after, the King is taking us hunting.

_Glossary_

Chimera- Beast of legend with the body of a lion, the wings of a dragon and three heads, one a dragon, one a goat and the last a lion.

Stephanite- A Knight of the Order of Saint Stephen, Archangel of Air, the Garland Crown of Logos.  Saint Stephen is the patron of archers, and often prayed to to those who depend on the weather for their livelihood such as farmers and sailor.  The Order of Saint Stephen is known for their archery and opposition to the forces of evil.


----------



## CleverName (May 30, 2002)

*Re: Nyssa's Journal, Part 3 (Adventure 42)*

Double post, sorry.


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## CleverName (May 31, 2002)

*Summaries of Adventures 31-39!*

Please go and admire the work of Jess, Jon and Sean in playing catch-up on the adventure writeups. 

I re-posted their summaries just before Sean's first Nyssa entry. So you need to go back one page and read starting with the " More adventures, different narrator" post. 

Thanks, everyone!


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## Old One (May 31, 2002)

*Glad to See You Back...*

I was afraid that BotS was gone for good...very happy to see you back!

Is Keith still playing and just get tired of playing scribe?

Thanks for the continued updates!

~ Old One


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## CleverName (May 31, 2002)

*Re: Glad to See You Back...*



			
				Old One said:
			
		

> *I was afraid that BotS was gone for good...very happy to see you back!
> 
> Is Keith still playing and just get tired of playing scribe?
> 
> ...




Life has thown him a lot of curves lately, but Keith (Ingolf) is still playing. In fact, he and Aoelif are the only original PCs left. 

Thanks for checking in, Old One!


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## CleverName (Jun 1, 2002)

*Nyssa’s Journal, Part 4 (Adventure 43)*

*Nyssa’s Journal: Maccara's Blessings*

7th April (Feast of Saint Ionna)- A beautiful spring day!  After breaking our fast we are off to a small natural pool for it is such that Druid use when they wish to scry.  Gudlaug seemed quite nervous and even a simple image of Annan for him to concentrate upon did not help the druid enough for him to find him with his magic.  Then back to the hall where King Brice had found an ancient silver mirror for my use, a little magic soon polished it back to shimmering beauty.  First, I attempted to locate the shadowy Maccara but my gaze would not focus upon him.  A cautious one he, he must either be warded or upon a different plane, but I suspect he has warded himself.

Then it was my turn to scry Annan.  I had better luck.  Finding Annan speaking with a sickly fellow who was revealed to be Caldor.  Annan was being sent forth to visit the Lady Eidine, another Helvetti warlord whose lands border both Caldor’s and the King’s, and to check on the guard along the road to ‘the Pit’.  Annan rides forth to do so and I see that around Caldor’s hillfort a small army is encamped and along the road there is a new shrine to Arawn covered with fresh sacrifices of beast skulls and gold.

Next we are introduced to Iscen, the King’s court sorcerer, advisor and teacher, he is an ancient Cimbri man who affected a most terrible pair of bright red pants!  It is his belief that we are better suited to find out what Caldor is up to, as the King cannot travel without his entourage which could trigger the confrontation we are trying to avoid.  We, with some reluctance, agree.  It is decided that we will travel with the King’s hunting party as far as the hall of his vassal Dillion, a bard, and from there head on.

It seems that the western Helvetti lands are dotted with disused mines, called pits, left by the Saluri tribe who owned this land before the Helvetti drove them from it and one of them is on Caldor’s lands.  Though we do not know what he may be digging for.

It comes as some surprise to Brice and Iscen that Caldor is ill, as he is a great hunter and renown for his endurance.  Further there is a sacred well to the Cimbri goddess Brigit that is known for its healing powers on the edge of his land and is tended by Firtha, an ollave to Brigit who is highly skilled with healing.  Very curious.

That night another feast, without meat to remind us why we are hunting, with a dance for entertainment.  The dance tells the story of the Helvetti conquest of this land but is very laden with myth and legend, so it only conveys a small amount of information useful for our currant situation.  Then to bed, stepping over only a few drunken Cimbri warriors along the way.

8th April (Saint Egon’s Day)- Travel begins, only us, the King and a hundred or so of his retainers!  The retinue winds itself to Lord Dillion’s Hall, which is only a half day or so away.  It and its small village are swamped with the numbers of the King’s retinue.  We, Brice and the cream of his bodyguards, feast with Dillion.  Dillion tell us a legend of the Saluri and the last son of their last King who was fostered by Arawn! _(DM's Note: see Ronan's Tale, above.)_ Most intriguing.  The story ended with the son being taken by Arawn but not, perhaps, dead . . . Could Maccara be related to this Prince of the Saluri?  Perhaps even be him return by Arawn to complete some task?

In return, Ingolf, with W playing accompaniment, tells of the slaying of a great white dragon in the ice fields of the far north by Aoelif and the heroes.  A most rousing tale and well told.  I wish that had brought some pieces back with them so I could investigate them for magical properties.  I suspect that white dragonbone would take to frost magic most easily.  I hope that someday I will have a chance to experiment with such.

Gudlaug scryed upon Annan, only to find him asleep.  He simply seems to have no luck with such magic.  My scry upon the Lady Eidine was more successful, finding her in whispered conversation with her husband, Leith, a master of tattoos.  They are undecided on who to support in the coming conflict, wisely, it strikes me.  But they owe someone (Maccara?) for the health of their daughter who was sick.  But Eidine seems to think there is someone still wrong with her, saying that her daughter smells odd . . . I pass this information on to the others but they seem as flummoxed as I am about its meaning.

9th April (Day of Saints David and Hadrian)- We slip away from the other hunters, heading into Lady Eidine’s lands towards the sacred well of Brigit.  Gudlaug uses his druidic magic to conceal our passage through the woods.  Fascinating.  It seems that it would be a difficult effect to duplicate through arcane means.  Otherwise, uneventful.

10th April (Saint Judith’s Day)- We travel deeper into Eidine lands.  Shortly afternoon, who do we meet on the road but Annan leading a party of eight warriors.  Annan refuses to listen to reason, though I try to avoid conflict . . . He chooses to fight and Aoelif is happy to oblige.

The fight ends remarkably quickly.  The Stephanite’s arrows quickly slay one of Annan’s liutenants while Aoelif leaps forward to engage Annan.  They trade blows with both drawing blood.  As I suspected, using the prism as a focus successfully enlarged the area of my colour spray enough to encompass them all.  The dazzling fan of colours strikes them all blind and dumb.  Between the Stepanite’s arrows and Aoelif’s swords, Annan is then cut down.  As the druid’s huge wolf tears one of the warriors down, it most gruesomely rips into him consuming much of him in bloody gulps.  I still shudder to remember it.  After a rain of ice called down by Gudlaug, the others wisely surrender, thankfully!

We question them but learn little, we had already killed all of their leaders.  But they are our captives and we take them with us to the Lady Eidine’s Hall.  There we hand them over to Eidine’s keeping, though she berates the warriors for being defeated by a band only two thirds their number!  (Eidine is well covered with magically tattoos, quite beautiful work.)  Eidine invites us into her hall as her guests.  There we meet her daughter Tira, who I observe is under a strong necrourgic effect!  Unfortunately, I cannot identify it further than that.  Informing the others, we cannot immediately figure out what to do next.

Eidine feasts us and we discuss the current situation with her.  And learn that Caldor had been seriously gored by a huge boar on a recent hunt and he too had been saved by Maccara.  We tell her that Caldor has become sick of late and that Maccara’s healing may be of a limited duration.  When we express our worries about Maccara and our fears about what he may have been doing, Tira become quiet upset and is excused from the room by her mother.

Leith then joins us, he had been listening fro the next room, and the discussion continues.  (Leith being even more tattooed than his lady wife and all of his tattoo are magical as well.)  They tell us that Firtha went into Caldor’s lands to ransom her husband who had been caught hunting on Caldor’s lands and she never returned.  We learn that Tira was bitten by a poisonous snake and Maccara turned up shortly, suspiciously shortly, afterwards to save her.  It seems to me that this is far too convenient.  I voice my suspicions that Maccara is arranging these accidents to cause the local nobles to fall into his debt.

We inspect Tira’s room looking to see if Maccara had left any charms or curses here, but sadly we do not find anything further that we can trace to him.  I wish we knew more of the man.  Eidine tells us that he wears a breastplate shaped into a death’s head decorated with human bones and carries a blackwood staff.  He sounds like a dark man filled with dark power.

Leith offer to escort us to the Pit.  From which we are told that they are extracting lead to finance Caldor’s army.  But who knows what other things they may be digging up?  Strangely, Caldor is also buying a great deal of salt but for unknown reason.  W suggests as some form of magical protection.  But if so, against what?  We accept Leith’s offer to guide us on the morrow, perhaps then we can learn what is going on at the Pit.

_Glossary_

Necrourgic- What is termed necromancy in common parlance, but necromancy is technically the art of divination by using the dead.  

Tattoo Artists- A specialist in creating magical tattoos, a common temporary magic item among the Cimbri.


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## CleverName (Jun 3, 2002)

*Nyssa' Journal, Part 5 (Adventure 44)*

*Nyssa’s Journal: Evil Unmasked*

11th April (Saint Felix’s Day)- After a breakfast with a subdued Eidine and Tira, Leith uses one of his tattoos to shift into the form of a mighty stag, unfortunately he did not warn us so I was not able to observe the effect fully.

Leith then leads us a few hours through the woods on game trails and back paths.  When we emerge, he points out the road to the Pit, it has been well used of late with signs of widening and recent wagon traffic.  W scouts ahead as we travel down the road.  After about a mile, we secrete our mounts in a grove out of sight of the road and continue on foot.  A little further down, W finds a guard post at a crossroads.  W and Ingolf circle around to prevent them from getting help, and after a few minutes to let them get into position, we advance down the road.  They halt us and demand that we turn back and Gudlaug is unable to convince them otherwise.  Losing patience, Gudlaug smites them with a crashing wave of water (the same effect he had used on the Chimera I believe) that smashed them into unconsciousness.  The Stephanite binds them securely with rope and leads their horses away to be hobbled with ours.

We start slowly down the road to the Pit while Gudlaug changes into an eagle and follows the other road to the Sacred Well of Brigit.  Within but a short time Gudlaug returns, looking a bit shaken.  He informs up that the Sacred Well has been defiled and the house of the Ollave destroyed.  And when he attempted to bless the Sacred Well, terrible spectral creature rose out of the water and attacked him.  He defeated them and returned to us.  I remember thinking at the time it was odd that a servant of Awran would risk angering one of the other gods of his pantheon and that the spectral creatures were surprising as gods of death rarely have truck with such beings. I was to have answers soon enough.

Filled with apprehension, we continued on towards the Pit, again with W scouting ahead.  Only find that the where the road debouches it was guarded by three ranks of animate skeletons.  Each of the thirty odd skeletons holding a great axe and waiting.  Soon enough, they spotted us and rushed forward, a silent wave of bone and steel.  I hasted myself and with the aid of the scorcher and some magic missiles from my fan, we quickly dispatched the skeletons with minimal damage to ourselves.  W’s halberd smashed through the skeletons’ bones with great efficiency.

Then things turned against us, a cloud passed before the sun and from the pit emerged Maccara in his black armour and a gray-skinned Annan, back from the dead but not fully alive, with a shimmering greataxe.  Maccara’s first action was to call down a roiling wave of fire upon me.  Thankfully, Fuchs’ sharp senses allowed me to dodge in time to avoid the worst of the fire, but I was still badly burned.  Aoelif, naturally, ran forward to engage the quasi-living Annan while the Stephanite and Ingolf rained arrows upon Maccara with little effect.  I quickly took cover behind a mound of excavated earth from the Pit.  The others were struck at by serpents of fire released from Maccara’s staff.  Ingolf and W nimbly avoiding the flames but the Stephanite and the Druid were badly burned and the Druid’s dire wolf was entirely consumed by the flames!

I could not see it, but Aoelif soon ended the quasi-life of Annan much to the anger of Maccara.  He demanded Aoelif’s name and when she gave it, he became enraged and tore away his breastplate and helm revealing an ash gray and twisted body beneath with a twisted symbol bound into the flesh of his chest.  (Which I later learned was the symbol of Nyag, the Rolgulkan Demon-God of the Unliving.)  His eyes flared with an unhallowed green fire.  “I have unfinished business with you!”  He cried.*  “You denied me my ritual in Rolgulka, now I will have my vengeance!  You will replace Annan at my side and serve me in a dark eternity after I have savaged your body and soul!”

With that revelation he pointed a bony finger at her and then gestured to the pit behind him. “Jump, Fianna!”

Aoelif jerked, struggled against his Dark Will for a moment, then ran towards the lip of the pit and threw herself in!

The rest of us struck against him as we could but to no avail.  His armour turned the arrows of our warriors and some powerful ward caused the magic of my spells to flow off him like water off a roof.  Magic missiles, glitterdust, more magic missiles, all without effect.  I was near to despair.  But the Necromancer was perched on the edge of the Pit, near to a wooden platform that overlooked it.  Out of desperation, I used shatterfloor.  The Necromancer seemed unaffected, but the ground around him and the edge of the platform were shattered and splintered.   He lost his balance and tumbled backwards into the pit.

We rushed to the edge of the pit to see what had happened to Aoelif and the Necromancer, as the Stephanite flew on wings of air.  I prayed the fall had finished the creature.

We arrived just in time to watch the Necromancer pick himself up and summon a massive flux of dark energy which he plunged back into his body, causing his body to twist and reform -- The wounds and tears in his gray skin sealing over.  All the fight seemed to go out of Ingolf when that happened.  I was none too steady either now for Aoelif's sake.  Gudlaug and the Stephanite seemed all too willing to fight to the death, which was likely to be ours.

The Necromancer strode over to Aoelif, who was lying injured in the pit, with a flick of his wrist, The three knobs at the end of the staff detched and grew spikes - three balls and chains slid from his blackwood staff like snakes uncoiling on ropes of slime.  With a single blow, he struck Aoelif unconscious and placed his boot on her throat.  

With his eyes ablaze with unhallowed light he looked up to us and said, “Serve me in a simple task, and she may yet survive this day.”

“What do you want of us?” I asked, my throat dry and tight, as if his boot rested upon my neck and not Aoelif’s.  My mind racing as I tried to think of a way to help her.

“A task that serves us both.  Bring me Lord Vihar’s son and I will return the Fianna to you, alive.  We both will benefit, as Lord Vihar is no friend to you, weather you have the wits to know it or not.  Deny me and you will meet the Fianna again only as the puppet-servant of Nyag.” 

A dark laughter seemed to underlay his words, as he had no fear of us.  With a gesture from his left hand, two shadowy spirits were summoned to guard his flanks.  Ingolf’s sent an arrow winging against the Necromancer but it shattered like rotten wood against his unnatural skin.  “Give me your answer, or suggest something of equal value!”  He demanded leaning forward, placing more weight upon Aoelif’s throat.

“It will take time,” I called out, hating to see Aoelif so vulnerable and the Necromancer leaned back, easing the pressure upon her neck.

“How do we know we can trust you to keep your bargain?” asked Ingolf, another arrow nocked and ready.

The Necromancer laughed, a sound like a death rattle, “I could swear upon my god but, somehow, I do not think that would satisfy you.”  He idly swung his triple ball and chain, letting the balls strike the ground only inches from Aoelif’s skull.  “The question is: do you have *any* choice but to trust me?”

“Aoelif would never ask this of us,” hissed Gudlaug, “she would die before serving this . . . thing.  We must fight.”  Ingolf nodded and grimly took aim.  I, wearily, readied another spell.  The Stephanite floated above the Necromancer, obviously prepared to martyr himself, his bow ready.  W tensed for action at my side.  I fully expected to die here, but, thank Logos and all the Saints, it was not to be.

“As you choose!” called the Necromancer.  Then, wrapping his left hand tightly in Aoelif hair, he called upon his dark god and like a shadow exposed to light, he melted from this plane to another one, Aoelif with him.  Ingolf’s arrow tore through the space that the Necromancer had just occupied, while Gudlaug’s prayers died on his lips.  The shadow guardians faded only a second later, leaving only an unnatural stillness and the stink of death in the air.

“She is lost to us!” cried the dwarf, anger and sorrow vying for control of his voice.

____________________________________________________

* I was later informed by Ingolf that the heroes -back before the Druid joined them- had encountered agents of this being, the ‘Necromancer’, before on the edge of Rolgulka.  There the heroes had prevented him (it?) from completing a terrible ritual that would have created some horrid creature, a foul necromantic wyrm they believed, to serve him and his dark master.


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## Knight-of-Roses (Jun 3, 2002)

*Re: More adventures, different narrator*



			
				CleverName said:
			
		

> *Summary of Adventures 31-40 by Jessica and Jon Hanna *
> *Trials of Kingship* (Adventure 31)
> 
> He [King Brice] then had us up to his hall and offered rewards. Martaine preempted the group by stating ?the goodness of your reign, and averting war with the humans will be reward enough? or some such nonsense. We left. He made our Cimbri friend Brion a landed noble and gave him Boars Hall.




In fairness, Martaine did let the party hem and haw around for about fifteen minutes without asking for anything before he decided to shut the conversation down.  You had your chance.

And what he said was, "All we can ask is that you be a good King and bring peace to this land."
Just clarifying for the record.


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## Ancalagon (Jun 5, 2002)

Yay!!!

BotS is back!!!  I realy like this particular story hour, and I'm glad it has picked up again

Who is the stephanite again?  Is he a PC or NPC?

Ancalagon


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## Knight-of-Roses (Jun 5, 2002)

Ancalagon said:
			
		

> *Yay!!!
> 
> BotS is back!!!  I realy like this particular story hour, and I'm glad it has picked up again
> 
> ...




Thanks, we are glad to keep playing the game.

The Stephanite is Brother Theon, of the Order of the Knights of the Archangel Stephen, Steve MacDonald's new character.  He [Theon] is taking the place of Theodorous Commenos while Theodorous is off in Faerie for a year and a day.  (Steve choose Theon's name at random from the list of Byzantine names that's why its so close to his other character.)


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## coyote6 (Jun 6, 2002)

*Re: Intermission: A Cimbri Story*

So, Wayne, you're going to be submitting a BotS proposal to Wizards, right?


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## Ancalagon (Jun 6, 2002)

He realy should!

Ancalagon


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## Old One (Jun 6, 2002)

*Yeah He Should...*

I e-mailed Wayne privately, but he absolutely should submit Palaestra for consideration.  The approach, depth and structure are all outstanding!  Some of the art is pretty cool too!

~ Old One


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## CleverName (Jun 6, 2002)

(What's the blushing emoticon?)

Yes, I plan to submit and thanks for the vote of confidence!

Now I have to create the time and work on that one page killer summary - that's going to be tough as heck!


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## Lost (Jun 6, 2002)

*Heck Yea!*

Wayne.....  
What have we been telling you?  You absolutely should submitt!  Listen to these professionals!!!  (In words of the old MINAC demon from Motive)  We can do whatever to give you time!  

Aoelif...


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## CleverName (Jun 6, 2002)

Ancalagon said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Who is the stephanite again?  Is he a PC or NPC?
> 
> Ancalagon *




FYI

Logos gave St. Stephen, the archangel archer, the dominion of air so that he could monitor the forces of Atavis and watch over the Church. His power over winds has made him a favorite of farmers and sailors — as both are concerned with favorable weather. Archangel Stephen is said to be able to calm storms as well as call them in Logo’s name. His raiment is of pale blue, silver and white and always carries an ivory bow with arrows made of lightning bolts. 

One of the few martial orders sponsored by the Domenicans, the Knights of St. Stephen are charged be vigilant for the forces of Atavis (devils and their cultists) and to help those plagued by foul weather, etc. Due to their connection with St. Domenica, the Knights are also pledged to aid the sick and healer-priests of the Domenican order. These Knights are sometimes called Stevelites, or Stephanites.

The Knights of St. Steven are a small and poor order, often labeled mendicant knights by the nobility — although they are well thought of by the peasantry. (The martially inclined nobility certainly respect their skill with bows.) Some attach themselves to the way houses of the Knights of St. Domenica, others have been known to work with the Knights of St. Uriah (Knights of the Chalice). Some choose to wander the empire in search of the evil forces that assail the church and humanity.


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## Knight-of-Roses (Jul 2, 2002)

*You may be wondering . . .*

what happened.  The fact is the camapaign has only been played about twice in the last six or seven weeks and we will not be getting back to it until the 10th.

But, you can read Nyssa's latest and last journal entry at:

http://www.athens.net/~rlyeh/NyssaJournal6.html


-Sean (player of Nyssa)


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## CleverName (Jul 9, 2002)

*ADVENTURE 45:  Of Gods and Rats*

Gudlag, the dwarf druid, has taken over telling the tale of the party. (Thanks, Jon!)

*Part I: Of Rats*


Immediately after the necromancer disappeared with Aoelif, the rest of the battle bloodied group decided upon a course of action.

“Well,” said Ingolf, “this really sucks.  The necromancer is obviously dead… as in living dead. With that magic ability, and the complete disregard to an arrow through the heart, he is either a Lich, or something damn close to it.”

“I’m not going to fight that necromancer again without getting some magic items from Tavia!”  Nyssa exclaimed.  “I can teleport back now!”

“Not a bad idea.”  Agreed Ingolf.  “I think I’ll go with you.  It occurs to me that Lord Vihar may be very interested in hearing about this encounter.  He is at war with this creature.  It will hinge on Vihar being not only willing but also downright eager to assist us. I am hoping that his desire to destroy the Necromancer, coupled with the knowledge that said Necromancer asked us to kidnap Vihar's own son, will be enough to motivate him.”

“We need to find Aoelif!”  Gudlaug growled.  “He could have taken her anywhere, so for lack of a better place to start, I’m going to Caldor’s Fortress.  But first…” The dwarf pulled some parchment and ink from his Handy Haversack.  “We need to get a message to Brice now!”  The dwarf sat down and quickly started writing.  The others discussed options.

Theon stepped forward.  “I don’t have a grand plan,” he said in his slow drawl, “but I would also like to return to Tavia.  I could petition the archbishop for assistance with the next assault.”

Nyssa shook her head.  “I can only carry 800 pounds.  Between myself, Ingolf and Winter, I would not be able to take you.  Would you be willing to pen a letter to the archbishop?  It would not carry as much weight as a personal appeal, but it would be something.”

“Is it absolutely essential that Winter go with you?  Her ranger skills will be of much more use here than in Tavia.”

“Winter vowed to protect my life with her own, and has always been loyal.  Loyalty is a two way street.  I will not leave her here where the danger is.  She is coming with me.”

Theon started to argue the point, still heated by the recent battle, but Ingolf stepped in.  “Nyssa, I understand your reluctance to be parted from your bodyguard, but Theon makes a valid point. Nonetheless, if Winter is to accompany us, Theon, please write as Nyssa suggested. I myself will deliver your plea to Father Martaine, with whom I have some passing acquaintance, and I am sure he will hear you out. His influence in the church is great enough, I believe, to convince them to come to our aid.

“Nyssa, in your dealings with the college, consider that we may (hopefully) need to return with one more person than we bring with us to Tavia, should Lord Vihar be favorably inclined to my proposal for him to impersonate his own son.”

Gudlaug stood up with the parchment.  “Here, listen to this.”  He read his note to the others.
"The Ollave of Arawn is actually a very powerful undead minion of the Rolgulkan god Nyag.  We suspect he is using his necromantic magic on members of some noble households to make them beholden to him, however, these households probably don't know his true nature.  Now that we know who he really is, I suspect he will be moving his army soon, if not immediately.  I believe the purpose of all of this is that he is trying to start a war in order to generate a large amount of corpses to use for a ritual to his god.

Also, if he does manage to take control of the Helvetti, he can attack Tavia, which will draw all of the Human attention here, and away from supporting Lord Vihar in Rolgulka, who he is at war with. Time is of the essence to stop him.  He has captured Aoelif, and I am going to Caldor's keep, where I am hoping he has gone, to try and rescue her.
Marshal your troops now!
Gudlaug" 

The dwarf looked at the others.  “Is there anything I forgot?”  They shook their heads.  “Alright then.”  He looked around and glared up into the sky.  “There’s one,” he mumbled as he spotted a buzzard  slowly circling overhead.  He cast a spell, and the giant bird descended down.  Using his magic, Gudlaug instructed the bird to fly the note towards Brice’s castle, and deliver it to any Cimbri who was wearing the colors of the king’s guard.  The vulture took off and started winging it in the right direction.

“All right, now to quickly check out this pit, and make sure that there is nothing disastrous that we are about to leave untended.”

Winter stepped up.  “I’ve scouted the pit.  There are five tunnels leading into the hillside from in the pit where Aoelif fell.  There are dozens of graves down at the bottom also.”

Gudlaug stepped to the edge and cast a Detect Magic spell.  “There are various necromantic effects going on also.  No surprise there.”

Theon flew up to scout around from above.  He reported that there are several, round hillocks to the north and west of the pit - the closest is but two-dozen yards away.  They seemed to be old, as they are overgrown.  He flew back down to the others.

“So do we all know what we need to do?”  Gudlaug asked

“Um no, not really.”  Theon replied.  “I guess I’ll hang around here.”

“No you won’t.”  The dwarf answered back.  “You need to return to Edinç’s keep post haste.  She has to be warned that Caldor’s forces may be marching soon.  She also should be told that the ‘man’ who cast a spell on her daughter is actually an undead servant of a Rolgulkan god.  She will likely find that whatever support for Caldor’s cause she may have had will evaporate at that point.  We will all meet up back at her keep when we have accomplished our tasks.  We should be back there before nightfall.”  The druidical dwarf stepped away from the others.  
“Wish me luck.  Hal and I go to find Aoelif!”  Hal the rat’s head poked out of Gudlaug’s breast pocket, and it slowly shook its head miserably, mumbling to itself in low squeaks.  Suddenly, Gudlaug’s body shrunk down into that of an Eagle.  He flew up, circled once, and flew off.

Nyssa gathered Ingolf and Winter.  She cast a spell, and they all disappeared in a flash.

Theon grumbled, but started trekking back towards the horses.  When he found them, he realized that he, along with all but one of the horses, were still under the effects of the Pass Without Trace spell that Gudlaug had cast on the party earlier that day.  Cutting the horse that didn’t have the spell cast on it loose, he led the others back towards Edine’s keep. 

When they arrived In Tavia, Ingolf split off from the others.  He immediately started off for Lord Vihar’s house.  “Ok, how am I going to put this…” he mumbled to himself.  When he arrived at the house, he had no problems being escorted in to see the lord.  After a surprisingly short wait, Vihar appeared.

Ingolf skipped the chitchat, and dove right in to the meat of the issue.  “Lord Vihar, I come on an urgent errand, which I think you will find interesting.”

“Oh?”

“My companions and I have run into an old enemy of yours in Helvetti.  The very necromancer that you are at war with.”  Ingolf paused to see Vihar’s reaction.

Vihar’s face betrayed no emotion, but he did seem interested.  “Please continue.”

“The necromancer is in Helvetti in order to foment war between the Cimbri and the humans, or so we believe.  We also think that he is going to attempt the same ritual to summon the giant undead worm that we foiled up north.
“Our immediate concern, however, is that he has captured Aoelif.   He attempted to bargain with us for her life.  If we would agree to come and capture your son, and take him back to the necromancer, he would release Aoelif back to us.”

Vihar’s mouth turned up in a smile, although his eyes didn’t seem to share the mirth.  “And are you here on that errand now?  You probably know that my son is not here.”

“No, of course not.  I don’t think any of us seriously considered accepting this deal, but Gudlaug reminded us that Aoelif, as a Fianna, would rather die than be used as a pawn to harm Faerie.  The Necromancer, receiving no deal from us, took Aoelif and teleported with her to places unknown.
“Why I’m here is to try and enlist your support in our fight against him.  I believe it is certainly in your best interest if we can kill him.  Here is what I propose.  If you, or perhaps your wife, Zlata, could change your appearance to look like your son, we could indeed make the deal that he asked for.  Of course, he would be surprised to find that his intended hostage is actually you!  I believe that it could work, and we could slay him, as well as save Aoelif.  Time is of the essence, however.”

“Well, my old friend, now we have common foe. That pleases me, although I am very sorry for your loss of a dear, and beautiful companion. My best guess is that she has already been gutted and salted for his larder. Would you care for some wine?”  Vihar poured two large goblets full.

“I will not risk myself and my kingdom in your polymorph trick, although it is damn clever. The Necromancer has seen through such before. I once convinced an Eater of the Dead, a "holy knight" of the Hanged God to attempt such a ruse, I had him magicked into the form of a zombie, and yet he was slain. From your tale the Necromancer does not think you really want to bargain. He might fall for such, but only if he is overwhelmingly confident in his power over you.

“Your best bet is to close with him with several doughty warriors and kill him as quickly as possible - force him on the defensive and have magicians in the wings to prevent his spells of escape. You may then slay him in the lands of the Helvetti...”

Vihar paused and turned to look out a window.  ”But even then he will NOT die. He will be reborn again as he has done in the past. Twice he has died, just to come a plague me again!  Still, I have waited 15 years to catch him out of whatever hole he hides in.

“The lair, which what was left of Kamak led my forces into, was but a trap. Perhaps this is an opportunity to strike at my old foe and plant the seed for his permanent destruction.”
He turned back to face Ingolf.  “Hmmm. I think so.  First I will give you a potion of Invisibility to Undead and Heroism to aid you in your attack against our enemy. Don't take too much heart in the former.   The Necromancer is a wary foe.”  He sighed, “But it may aid you get past some of his defenders. The second is to help you with this…”  Vihar walked to the corner and picked up a small, slender item.  He walked over and handed it to Ingolf, who now saw that it was a quiver built for a single arrow.
“I give you an arrow.  A single arrow that I have invested much magic in. It may slay the fiend outright, but moreover a successful strike will mark his soul-essence for a period of time so that my servants may track its progress and possibly discern his true lair.
“I will give this to you, Ingolf. Revenge yourself upon him.”  He looked Ingolf in the eye.  “Do not waste it.”  He turned around and moved away.  ”I will also have one of my Glitterdeath warriors accompany you if you can transport him - his life is mine, though. Not yours.  Understand?  I will even have him enspelled into the visage of my son, if you wish. I doubt it will work, but it might give you a brief edge, who knows? Perhaps you can catch him unawares for a moment - if so, strike my friend and may your aim be true!”

Ingolf looked at the items he had been given.  “Although these items are not the equal to what we hoped to receive from you, they are very much appreciated.  Do not change the appearance of your warrior.  If what you say were true, it would be a waste of your magic.

“We will do our best to kill the bastard.  And if we fail, perhaps our undead bodies will meet you on the field of battle some day.”  He smiled at Vihar, drained the rest of his goblet, and went to meet his companions.

After a few more hours, Ingolf met back up with Nyssa and Winter, who were successful in acquiring other useful items for the upcoming fight.  They went to the edge of town and teleported back to Helvetti…

During this time, Gudlaug flew up to the keep of Caldor.  When he was in the woods outside the area of the encamped army, he turned back into his true form and removed Hal from his pocket.
“It was for times like these that I awakened you, little friend.”

“For suicide missions?  Great.”  Hal said back in his high-pitched voice.

“No, of course not.  I need you for silence, hiding, and most of all cunning.  I will take you to the keep.  You must scurry in and try to find Aoelif.  We don’t know that she’s here, but it is as good a place to look as any.  Start off with the lower levels, and work your way up.  Ask any other rats you meet for any useful information.  We need to find Aoelif!
“Also, if you come across the room where lord Caldor is resting, take note of it.  It may be useful information to know in the future.”

He set the rat down and cast Listening Ringworm on him.  “This will allow me to hear what you hear, and you can talk to me.  Quietly!  I will not be able to talk back, however.
“Above all things, avoid detection!  Now, go limp,”

Gudlaug turned into a scroungy looking dog, and picked up Hal in his mouth.

“I hope you don’t get carried away in your role as a hungry dog.”  Hal whispered.  “And for crying out loud, chew some mint or something.  Great Rat in the sky!”

A low growl from the throat of the Druid quieted the rat.

Gudlaug trotted out of the woods, rat in mouth, and headed towards the keep.  He had to pass through the encampment of the army surrounding it.  He could tell that they were packing up and getting ready to march.  He passed a sergeant who stood next to two zombies, talking to some troops.  He was convincing the other Cimbri that the undead were gifts from Arawn, the Cimbri god of the dead.

Gudlaug dropped Hal at a side door, under which he scurried.  Gudlaug then went back out to the woods to wait.

Hal quickly ran though the keep.  He talked to other rats, and determined the layout of the place, and learned that Aoelif was not there.  He did find a gibbering female tied up in a separate outside hovel, who turned out to be the priestess of Brigit who had been missing.

Returning to the keep, he did find the room where Caldor was convalescing, and snuck in.  Caldor was in a meeting with his advisors, as well as the Necromancer, who had resumed his role as Maccara, the Ollave of Arawn.  The men discussed their plans for marching north.  Caldor dismissed the advisors, but Maccara stayed behind.  

When the others had left, the Ollave cast a spell.  “This will keep us from being scryed.”  He told Caldor.  Hal Smirked at this.

Hal, and Gudlaug, listened in as Maccara reaffirmed to Caldor that they needed to get marching immediately.  Especially since the friends of King Brice, meaning Gudlaug and party, had been to the mine.  The Ollave spoke of needing more time to break into the tomb of the Ancient Saluri king, Cathal, which was apparently at the old mine.  He seemed to want the crown that was to be found there.  He asked Caldor who in the area would know of the ancient Saluri legends, and was told that the bard, Lord Dillion, was the most knowledgeable.  It was Dillion who had told the party Rowan’s Tale a few nights before.  The Ollave told Caldor to send hunters back to the mine to keep track of the adventurers.  Maccara seemed intent on finding Dillion himself.

Hal scurried back out and net Gudlaug back at the door.  They left the area and headed back to Edinç’s Castle…

While the others were about their business, Theon arrived at Edinç’s castle and told her about what was happening.  She was understandably concerned to find out that the person who had “Healed” her daughter was actually an undead pawn of a foreign god.

The others arrived from their various locations in short order.  They held a council with Edinç and Lieth, her Tattooed husband.  Ingolf and Nyssa told the others of their meetings in Tavia, and the Glitterdeath warrior was introduced.  Gudlaug told them that Caldor’s army was going to be marching soon.  He also told them of what he had heard between Maccara and Caldor.  It was agreed that Dillion needed to be warned, and Lieth, agreed to go immediately and perform the task.  Edinç planned on packing up her family and abandoning her castle.  She asked for a letter of introduction to Arcois, the Credi king, which Ingolf gladly provided.

The others thought it best to leave the castle, and go back to the Mine.  They wanted to check things out and try and find the tomb of Cathal for themselves.  They packed up fresh supplies and left.

To be continued... _(Really, just watch!)_


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## CleverName (Jul 9, 2002)

*ADVENTURE 45 INTERLUDE*

_Meanwhile…_

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~~~~ INSERT EXPENSIVE WAVY DREAM EFFECTS ~~~~
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Aoelif woke up to the sound of fat dripping on a fire, and the weak light of a small flame. It is night and she was laying on a bearskin in front a small fire. She expected to feel dead, or at least battered and bruised, but instead she felt fine, well, a little cold, but since she was naked, that’s understandable. 

A rabbit carcass was suspend above the flames on a branch – that’s what was cooking. It was rubbed with rosemary; she smelled that now. The last thing she remembered smelling was the churned earth of the grave pit and boot heel of the necromancer – spiced with her own blood. It smelled good and she was ravenous.

She propped herself on her elbow and her head swam, perhaps she was not as hale as she first thought, although she still felt no pain, -- she didn't feel much of anything really. 

Suddenly there was a flash of movement beyond the fire and a knife appeared, its pommel quivering in the ground next to her outstretched hand. 

“Carve yourself some coney, Aoelif; you look half dead.” 

A figure sat opposite her -- hooded in a gray cloak with a sidhe-styled cloak pin. His face was hidden, but every once in awhile the firelight caught in his eyes and they glinted back at her. A white horse was tethered behind him. “You like rabbit as much as you like dying Aoelif?”

“I do like rabbit,” she answered, “and thought I was the one in the snare.  I do not wish to die, yet, but I still feel as bad as I suspect I look.”  

She inspected her arms and the places where gashes should still remain.  She took the knife, carefully glancing for some clue of her benefactor on it, and tried to sit up.  She did not try to cover herself, as there was no point.  She tried to stand, swooned, and knelt closer to the fire.  She pushed her very long hair back, and looked to the cowled man’s face trying to catch his eyes. She thought ‘Is the voice familiar?’  She leaned carefully to the fire, as to not scorch her bare skin.  Aoelif took the spit of rabbit, and set it off the fire to cool.  

“Thank you.  Where are we now?  Where is Nyag’s servant? Where are my companions?  How did you…?” She glanced about for a drink, SIG, and then to the white horse. 

She saw nothing but the bearskin she sat upon, the dark skies above, a low mist about her, and the fire. The horse had no saddle, but a bridle. It snorted at her. 

“You are welcome for the meat. As for where we are, we are in the unseelie realm. Volodya, your ‘necromancer’ friend is in his crypt by now, probably gifting your weapons to his cold-handed bodyguards I would guess. Soon Nyag will fill his corpse again with her magic and he will set out again, but I cannot read his foul mind.

“Your companions? Two are seeking Vihar’s aid, the rest are awaiting those results. As to your last question, ‘how?’ Well, ‘why?’ is probably a better question.”  

“First though, an old man will wag his finger a bit. Finn did not teach you to throw your life away. I am not a god of war, but I know that if you continue to charge to the front without support, you will be dead again. I will not aid you to only have you throw yourself on the next villain's sword.”

He pointed a long fingered hand out of his grey cloak at her chest and she felt ice grip her heart. “I would teach you that lesson, if you will open your ears!”  He stood and seemed to tower over her. The twin sparks of his eyes merged with the starry sky.

“That is not why you are here, my lovely, although you would be wise never to forget my words.” He smiled – unnaturally large teeth glittered in the gloom of his hood. “In fact, you never will.”

“You are here because I do not take kindly to an ollave of Nyag who masquerades as my priest and tries to steal that which does not belong to him. Although I appreciate the right of vengeance as much as any other sidhe would, it does not excuse all of his offenses to my family.

“You’ve put him off his game for the moment, but he’s left his prize well-guarded while he searches for the final key to Cathal’s tomb and decides how to best track down and kill the rest of your companions.”

He grew calmer, picked up the rabbit and bit off a piece.  Then he sat back down. “I love this flavor it imparts, quite nice. A family secret.”

“Arawn” Aoelif breathed as she bowed her head.  “It was Finn who ate of the salmon, not I.  I prefer rabbit.” 
She managed a weak smile, and then it faded as she listened and remembered.  “I will take your words to my gra…  I will heed them and take them to heart.”  
She wobbled as she again tried to stand.  She looked into his gleaming eyes “If I am with you, then I must be dead, my candle burnt out?  And I must belong to you and yours then?  Why would you take a moment with this Fianna? I have never called to you before.  What would the Nyag priest want of the crypt of king Cathal?   What prize?”

“I’m getting to that.” He replied.  “We gods of Faerie try our best to stay out of each other’s way – we have laws of our own. We don’t send forth our Avatars willy-nilly. We don’t interfere in the squabbles of our worshippers as long as certain rules are kept. Claiming to be my ollave was a minor breach, Volodya, your “necromancer,” was wise to make sacrifices to me and beg my forgiveness. Desecrating the temple to my sister Brigid was a more serious blot – still Nyag is not of my pantheon, so it happens.  Now Volodya threatens to steal a gift I gave the Saluri and THAT has given me more leave to act. Still I cannot just go to one of my ollaves and tell them the tale – it must be discovered, or I have to be asked by the living. Then I can tell my tale.

“You on the other hand are mostly dead, so I can speak to you freely, that is why I talk to you, Fianna. You life ebbs, Aoelif, soon the Sisters will snip your tread and you will go off to join my Norse counterpart, Hel. I can repair that, but I cannot give you back your possessions, I fear Volodya took them to his true demesne in the mountains of Rolgulka.

“When your friends could offer him no reason to keep you alive, Volodya slit your throat my dear and drank your blood for fun – taking some for his rituals. He stripped your dying body and then buried you in a shallow grave to ripen up until he has further need of your corpse. Volodya has many such buried around here – one of his larders.

He waved his arm and the mist thinned. Aoelif now saw that she was in a graveyard – in fact she was on a fresh mound of earth.

“Vengeance drives Volodya. I will sharpen it like a dagger and cut his throat with it. 
“You, Fianna, are my little dagger.”

Aoelif swallowed hard on the huge lump that filled her throat.  ‘My FRIENDS could offer no reason to keep me alive?  He drank of my blood?  I am gravebound?’ 

 Aoelif started to shiver and her skin crawled.  She clamped her eyes shut tight to help concentrate and keep her wits about her.

Her voice quivered, “Arawn, I have great respect for your wisdom.   May I ask what gift he seeks?   What prize is Volodya still guarding?  I will sharpen under your hand.”  

“Ahh, that is a long tale and it starts with your first encounter with him. You will find that Volodya is a resourceful enemy. When you were but striplings, you alerted Vihar to his plans and destroyed the charnel pit he needed to raise the Ulugustasaa, – the great wyrm of Nyag which would have given him an army of undead. Remember that?

“Volodya can already raise and control over a hundred skeletons – far beyond most ollaves’ power, still what he needs are thousands, tens of thousands of dead warriors to crush Vihar.

“He began looking elsewhere for friends to aid him in his war with Vihar. He walked up and down in the dark mountains near the Vale of Thunder until he found the rotten might of Cestmiru, the great indigo drake. Cestmiru will have to be dealt with in the end, I suppose, perhaps she is the true author of this tale of misery, but she is wholly out of your league, for now, dear one. Volodya would have approached her on his belly and Vihar will not have her head on his wall, were it even possible to fit it there.

“Volodya aided Cestmiru’s grandchildren in various ways, and in return walked out of her emerald pit with many secrets of ancient dragon magic and bits of lore concerning artifacts of the Gods of Death – including several tales of the Saluri and their ancient pacts with the Lord of the Dead. 

“When you journeyed over the ice to find Ingolf’s brother, he found Moireach, seduced her with promises of immortality and dragon princes begot by a dragon-king -- hatching a plot to steal the throne of the Helvetti, allowing him time to root for his real treasure. Again you and yours, with help of wizard or three, foiled that. 

“But he had already wormed his way into the hearts of several Cimbri lords by this time, poisoning their beloved as you already suspect. Moireach’s death and Brice’s victory, merely delayed him. While staying with Caldor he found the mound and as Gudlaug suspected, re-opened the pits as an excuse to dig toward the barrows of the Saluri Kings.”

“Why? One of the stories Volodya learned from that putrescent dragon, Cestmiru, gave him hope for his army. There many stories of those who claim kinship with me -- most contain a sprig of truth. Some tell of an ancient barrow of a Saluri king -- the final archway before the burial chamber is magicked with arts so fell that living beings passing through are stripped of their flesh and turned into servitors of the crown of the Saluri. It is said that any doomed tomb robbers caper about and play music for the dead kings’ enjoyment. Only the true heirs of the Saluri kings can pass through unharmed, or those warded by a certain herb from a particular story – or already dead masters of necromancy.

“Of course I would not make it easy for an evil person to gain such gifts and the Saluri devised traps of their own measure to protect their kings. Were I to have built such a place, I would place the entrance to the chamber behind a silver door, locked with a puzzling key. A key of two parts: one physical, one magical. One part that could never come from one such as Volodya. The clue to the other ingredient is held partly in a tale of morality and mortality, not one of power and undead legions on the march -- a tale that Volodya may not have paid attention to. 

 “Now, I have given you all the parts to this tale and this puzzle. Protect the tomb for you own sake and for the sake of Faerie itself. Otherwise, you will not stop Volodya. To avenge himself on Vihar he will bring down the Helvetti, make them his servants and draw the humans into his bloodbath as well.

“I cannot tell the future Aoelif, my province is the past, the dead. But Volodya will return soon, perhaps provoke the war to give him time to puzzle out my clues; I’m sure he will contact Nyag for help. I will thwart that route for a time. 

“Still you need your brains and the help of your friends. One and only one of them has part of the key. You can provide the clues to the other, if you’ve not figured it out by now. You might be able to get the crown before Volodya.“

Her eyes still clamped tight, and quaking as she sat in the fresh turned shadow earth, Aoelif listened and tried to understand.  Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her hair formed a covering all about her naked body.   
“Why does Volodya hate Lord Vihar so?”

“That tale I will leave for Vihar – he will owe it to you in the end. I will tell you this Volodya seeks vengeance for a betrayal that happened before your father lay with your mother.”

Aoelif spoke quietly, “I remember the tale of Cathal and Ronan, your gifts to them, and Ronan’s misuse of them.  I do not know what my companions possess that may be part of a key.  If I were to be your small weapon, I would please ask but one thing to aid me.  I am… afraid.  I fear places of the dead, ever since I first visited the Unseelie plane and saw Tavia’s human undead.  If you wish me to guard a tomb, I will need a stronger countenance.  Will your true followers know I act under your hand?  Will I go forth as I am to my companions?”   

He waved his hand. “It is done. My places will be a comfort to you from now on. I remove your fear of the places of the dead.” 

The fear she had been given by the Bag of Norn stones was gone, like the snuffing out of a candle’s flame. 

He swept off his cloak revealing him to be a striking, dark haired sidhe, dressed in a dark green kilt and scarlet shirt. He was pale and his skin seemed to hang oddly on his bones, but he was still beautiful, his eye burned with a gray fire like an ashed-over ember. 

She looked at him, “As long as my flame still flickers in your hall, I will act as your small blade, as you have been my whetstone.”  

“Good.”  He took her by the shoulders, and lifted her to her feet. He pulled the cloak over her head and fastened the cape around her. He was tall beside her.

“And I give you my cloak. (+2 Cloak of Resistance – adds +2 to all saves). Its buckle will give you protection from six life-draining attacks of Volodya’s folk (as Scarab of Protection with 6 charges). You may keep these in remembrance of me. Honor the Gray Lord of the Dead on Samhain, Aoelif.”

He took off his belt of dark leather and silver, from which hung the scabbard of his dagger. His hands passed over her waist and she felt his touch – at once icy and hot. From the bearskin where it rested he plucked the dagger and slid it in the sheath. 

“You may use my dagger (+2 Undead Bane Dagger – acts as a +4 weapon vs. undead and +2d6 damage to them.) When Volodya is destroyed forever, bury it in Faerie soil and it will return to me.”

He lifted Aoelif’s chin and kissed her – warmth flooded back into her and she realized just how cold she was.

“I will return you to your friends. If you wish to secure the crown before Volodya returns, you must act quickly. You must solve the riddle of the silver door and face many dangers before even that. I believe Volodya will return to the pit soon, with aid – but I cannot tell you the future for certain. I hear the march of armies, not long away, and the call of many dead.”

He strode away from her and jumped onto the back of the horse.  “I have used up my and my sister Brigid’s allotment to intervene -- sending you back and telling you what I have. No more aid can I give you. 

“Keep Volodya from getting the Crown or failing that, return it to the tomb. 

“Destroy Volodya forever for his crimes against me – a task that may be beyond you at the pit.” 

“Lastly, I hope I will not see you again for a long time, Aoelif. Remember my words of caution. If Hel will not have you…”  He paused and for the first time he looked at her like she would have expected a sidhe to look at a beautiful ljosalfar woman, and he winked. “…then I will.”  His horse wheeled under his touch, eager to spring away.

“Tell Brice if he wishes the blessings of the Saluri once enjoyed, then I need to see greater offerings on my holy days, perhaps a stone set for me in his compound as well. 

“Lie back on your pallet, close your eyes and I will send you home…”

Aoelif lay back and saw the hoves of the gray horse's hooves begin kicking up sparks - its eyes, wide with fear or anger, turning towards her. She forced her eyes closed and gripped the bearskin pallet. 

Thunder rolled towards her, mingled with the beating of hooves and her heart. 

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~~ INSERT EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE WAVY DREAM EFFECTS ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_-- written by Wayne, Jessica and Jon _


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## CleverName (Jul 9, 2002)

*ADVENTURE 45: Of Gods and Rats*

*Part II: Homecoming *

It being very late, the party camped on it’s way to the mine.  While they were sleeping, the group was awoken by Winter, who was on watch with the Glitterdeath warrior.

“Something approaches.”  She told the others.  

They all readied themselves, in time to see a large, dark wolflike shape ambling towards them, with two others following behind.  The stench of death, and burned flesh let them know that the undead dire wolf approaching them was none other than Freka, Gudlaug’s former companion.

“Vile!”  The Dwarf spat.  “This shall not be!”  He planted himself and readied his hammer.

The archers in the group let fly with arrows, and the battle commenced.  The undead dire wolves were fierce and bloodthirsty.  Ingolf, the Scooby-snack of dire wolves, was first to take damage.  Theon also felt the sharp fangs of the dead creatures rip his flesh.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt pierced the night sky.  It struck a great tree, splitting it in-two.  From the smoldering trunk, a dirty, soil covered form wearing only a cloak leapt out.  It was a screaming Aoelif! 

Chills ran up Ingolf’s spine!  The group was unsure if she was herself or a minion of Nyag.  He hesitated as she ran screaming towards the Party.  Aoelif approached faster and faster, with a dagger raised.  She leapt into the middle of the fray and was coming to bear when Ingolf knocked the small weapon from her hand.  

“What did you do that for you blockhead?” Aoelif wailed. “I am trying to help you!”  

Ingolf stammered and screamed, “Who are you going to attack?”  

“The wolves” yelped Aoelif as a Dire wolf bit her unweaponed hand.  “I’ll explain later!  Now fight them!”  She pointed towards the wolves.

Fortunately, the Glitterdeath stepped in and dealt tremendous damage to two wolves, and Freka was also dealt with.  They all were put down.

With confusion on their faces, the group surrounded Aoelif, who explained as best she could, what had happened to her.  Theon was unsure of how to take this tale of actually meeting a god, but he kept silent.  They all were overjoyed at Aoelif’s return, and they returned to their camp to talk and rest as best they could…


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## Ancalagon (Jul 10, 2002)

drats, I lost my post.

anyway, in short format:

best "PC coming back from the dead" evar!!!

Ancalagon


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## CleverName (Jul 11, 2002)

*Jessica Hanna*

Jessica Hanna (the woman behind Aoelif) loved this game, her character and she also loved this story hour. Because of that, and you loyal readers, I feel that I should tell you to *not* expect more updates from us.

Jessica Hanna and her two children were killed in a car accident on Tuesday morning. 

Her husband played Gudlag, and the rest of us were all great friends of the family. We will miss her, Heather and Benjamin more than I can adequately express. 

All I will say is that the heroics, love of life and sheer fun she expressed in Aoelif were but a pale reflection of Jessica. I am honored and blessed to have known her and diminished without her.


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## blargney (Jul 11, 2002)

*Re: Jessica Hanna*

My heart stopped when I read this.  I'm terribly sorry to hear of the loss of Jessica and her children.  My heart goes out to you, Jon, and all the other people she affected in her life.  I won't ever forget her.

-blarg


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## ScyldSceafing (Jul 11, 2002)

*a*

I am sorry for the loss of Jessica and the children; a bright spirit has fled, and the world grows darker.

Tell me, if anyone who knows is checking this any more - is there anywhere we might give in memoriam? Any arrangements we might help along? Anything we can do to show that we notice the loss of this light?


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## CleverName (Jul 11, 2002)

*In Memoriam...*

In lieu of flowers, Jon has asked that donations be made to the Memorial Park Zoo, where they often took their kids and where Jessica volunteered.

Make checks payable to Athens/Clarke Co., but please note Jessica, Heather and Benjamin Hanna in the "For" line.

*Memorial Park Zoo*
c/o Judy Williams
293 Grand Ellen Drive
Athens, GA  30606

Thanks so much; you folks are tremendous. I will show your responses to Jon someday soon.


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## Old One (Jul 11, 2002)

*Terrible News...*

Wayne,

I am so sorry to hear about this.  Please give my heartfelt condolences to Jon and the rest of you group.  I cannot even imagine how devestated he and the rest of you must be.  My thoughts and prayers are with you and your crew.

Thank you for posting the memorium address.

~ Old One


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## ForceUser (Jul 11, 2002)

*My condolences*

I'm sorry for your loss. Best wishes to Jessica's family and friends.


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## Knight-of-Roses (Jul 11, 2002)

*Jessica*

Jess Hanna was a wonderful person and I will dearly miss her.  She was a great and dear friend.

With the loss of her and her children, a little of the light has gone from the world.

Blessings upon you all.


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## Dr Midnight (Jul 11, 2002)

This is absolutely horrible. 
My condolences to Jon and the extended family. 

...There's just nothing left to say.


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## Piratecat (Jul 11, 2002)

Oh, God. I'm so very, very sorry.  For what it's worth, my thoughts and prayers are with you.  I'm glad Jon has such good friends around him in this awful time of grief.

 - Piratecat


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## KnowTheToe (Jul 11, 2002)

When tragedy strikes like this the world stops and there is nothing but emptiness and pain.  

I truly feel for Jon and will remember him in my prayers and my thoughts.  I cannot imagine what he is going through and am glad that he has friends to be there for him.


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## coyote6 (Jul 11, 2002)

I don't have the words. My deepest condolences to Jon & all of Jessica's family and friends. 

- Bob Huss


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## Henry (Jul 11, 2002)

If you ever read this - Jon, Clevername - I just found out about this, and I extend my deepest condolences. It is a truly sad loss when anyone near passes away, especially a close friend or love. I can't imagine what you both go through right now, but I am truly sorry to hear it.

Sincerely,

Henry Link


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## cipher (Jul 11, 2002)

*...*

For the past two days, I've been too numb to cry.

Wayne's posting here, and the response from people who never even had the joy of knowing Jess, broke the dam.

I'm bawling.

I can barely see to type.

The stupid, horrible irony of working to convince Wayne to resurrect Jessica's character only to lose HER a month later...

And the kids.

Jesus.

I'm not sure whether the preceding is a prayer or a curse. Take your pick.


She was the best of us.

She will be missed.

Stewart


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## Pielorinho (Jul 11, 2002)

I am terribly sorry.  You are in my thoughts.

Daniel


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## EricNoah (Jul 11, 2002)

My thoughts and prayers go out to you.  

Eric Noah


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## gamecat (Jul 11, 2002)

My condolences. You are within my thoughts.


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## Mark (Jul 11, 2002)

My condolences.


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## Richards (Jul 11, 2002)

I offer my heart-felt condolences.  We might not know each other, but we're all family in spirit.

Johnathan


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## Upper_Krust (Jul 12, 2002)

Sorry for your loss.


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## Ds Da Man (Jul 12, 2002)

I have tears. That is a terrible loss. Jon, I can never express the how looking at that picture, and knowing such beautiful people are gone, has made me want to run home and kiss my wife and two children. My heartfelt condolences,

                                                   Dave Hall
dhall@abcs.com if you ever need a chat!


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## usagisteve (Jul 12, 2002)

*A few words*

For those of you who don't know me, my name is Steve McDonald. I played Theodorus in the campaign.

I hope that those of you who took the time to read these boards also had the opportunity to read the chat sessions that went on with Jessica's character and mine.  Like so many roleplaying characters, Theodorus was essentially another version of me, accenting my arrogance in an attempt to cover the fact that I constantly fear what other people will think of me.

I, as a person, find it very hard to trust people, I'm not very open that way. But it was impossible not to trust someone like Jessica from the moment I met her. I was a stranger to her, and she took me into her home and life with nothing but acceptance of the oddities that make me what I am.

I have never had a friend (or anyone close to me) die. I cannot stop feeling _empty_ . She was one of the few people in this world that I loved, and with the exception of my wife (who has been a pillar of strength for me in this time), I had no one else like Jess that I could just *be myself* around.  

There is nothing else I can say, other than to beg whatever god there is in such a world that she and her beautiful, beautiful children know some peace wherever they are at this time.


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## madriel (Jul 12, 2002)

My deepest condolences on your loss.


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## Xerecian (Jul 12, 2002)

*Jessica*

When I shut my eyes I remember. I remember Benjamin playing with a roaring toy Godzilla on the kitchen floor. I remember Heather hanging on my arm and my every word as I read Stellaluna to her. I remember Jessica's joy at a simple gift Sean and I brought back from the Renaissance Faire that made me think of her and of Aoelif. When I shut my eyes, I never want to open them again, but I'm suddenly afraid of the dark. 

Three people I love are gone from this world, but my love for them will always remain.


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## CleverName (Jul 12, 2002)

*From Jon*

I just saw Jon. I told him about the outpouring of love and concern on the BoS thread. He was surprised and very thankful and wanted me to tell you how much he appreciated your thoughts.


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## Dave G (Jul 12, 2002)

*My condolences...*

Peace be with you in your time of need.  You are in my prayers and have my sympathies...


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## Trevalon Moonleirion (Jul 12, 2002)

Though I don't know any of your involved with this story hour...

 My deepest condolences to you all.

I'm glad that there's already been a lot of support from posters here at ENWorld...this truly is a great community of genuinely great people.  I doubt I'm alone when I say we're all deeply sorry for you, and will always be behind you.


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## Plane Sailing (Jul 12, 2002)

I am really, really sorry to hear about this tragedy. My thoughts are with you and my prayers are for you.

With love,
Alex


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## Gaius (Jul 12, 2002)

The irony of Jessica's screen name is as poignant as it is sad.  Though she was but a name amongst hundreds and a stranger to me, I still offer my sympathies and condolences for your loss.  My thoughts and prayers go out to her friends and family.  I'm so terribly sorry.

Gaius


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## Thorvald Kviksverd (Jul 12, 2002)

I wanted to post yesterday, but I couldn't think of what to say...

Today...I still can't.

All I know, is that reading this news, and seeing that picture of your beautiful family, brought tears to my eyes.

I'm terribly sorry...


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## Holy Bovine (Jul 12, 2002)

My fiancee, madriel, told me about this horrible news and I can only express my sympathies andcondolences.

I cannot imagine the pain such a loss must be to all of you touched by Jessica and the children.

I never met them but I can feel the love they created in others.

Please be strong for each other.

Jeff


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## sword-dancer (Jul 12, 2002)

My Condolences

Thorsten


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## Ancalagon (Jul 12, 2002)

Oh, the cruel irony indeed... many campains end, but this... this should not be.

I am very sorry for your loss and I'll pray for you all.

Ancalagon


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