From the Journal of Tanna Freespirit:
Our latest line of questioning and
investigation had us lead by the renowned bard Grayson Silversong right into
the main throne room of Brevoy. We arrived using a scribed arcane circle lead
by Grayson that caused us to teleport the vast distance far faster than a bird
could fly, a method, in hindsight, warranted at least some forewarning and
preparation with Brevoy itself. After a brief show of force that reminds me of
a wolf snapping its teeth at an intruder, we were lead to a chamber away from
the alarmed king.
The wizard Malliard met us in the
chamber after a short while and we spoke at length upon the news, about the
disappearance of our tome-worthy subjects, the Earls. We soon moved onto the
more pressing matter of the corruption and aging of the Star Towers, as
outlined in my last journal entries. As expected, this news added burden onto
Malliard’s mind and he gave us a little more information about the situation of
the towers and their importance in keeping the god Rovagug sealed away. Unless
something was done to stop his escape, the best case scenario is the
destruction of the world. Given what we know there is little that can be done,
but an option has presented itself, to investigate the ruins of a temple to
Rovagug to the east. Malliard explained that the place was almost certainly
dangerous and that there was no guarantee that we would return alive, but given
what is at stake I knew in my heart that I could not ignore the threat and
agreed to go.
The next few days blurred into
meetings and planning as we prepared for the trip to the ruins. Scrolls of
resurrection were provided to me for emergencies, should one of us fall in
battle. While this goes against my beliefs of the cycle of life, I reluctantly
agreed due to the shear importance of our task. Should the towers fall, the
cycle of life across all of the world will end.
With a spell from Malliard we made
our way most of the way towards the ruins of the temple, traveling for another
few hours east before the forest surrounding the temple came into view, the
sight of what still lingers in my mind’s eye. The trees stood black, appearing
as if burnt by a colossal fire. It was just in this view that I decided to take
the time to commune with nature to establish an understanding of the natural balance
of the forest. It was then that I heard the most unsettling responce I have
ever received from a commune.
Silence.
With some further communing from
around the area I quickly understood what was happening. Sadly it is not a case
of going unanswered, but simply the fact that large area around the temple was
simply devoid of life. No plants grew, no animals foraged, birds even avoided
the area entirely no doubt due to the same gut feeling of ‘wrongness’ that even
now remains firmly in my gut, like a disease slowly eating away at the body.
When my attention returned to the
rest of the flock found that they were thankfully in better spirits, having
occupied their time playing games to keep their skills sharp. After explaining
the situation we decided to continue our journey to the ruins to find out what
we needed. As our journey took us closer to the forest it soon became clear to
me that it was something far more unnatural than a fire that had killed the
trees and plantlife in the area, the blackened forms of the trees not burnt,
but simply dead, as if the life had been sucked out of them. Not even the
usually resilient insect and fungus life had escaped, and I wondered if I too
would soon feel the unnatural forces that caused this tugging at my life.
With my unease growing with every
step, we eventually arrived at the ruins, a large religious complex that seemed
to have been the site of a large explosion. The walls and roof were spread
across a wide area, while the massive metal doors had partly melted to the
ground. The feline Sam scouted ahead before returning to report to us that he
had found a trap door leading underground.
The ladder led us to a long
corridor of steps that lead deeper underground, lit by eery blue ‘flames’ in
sconces on the walls that lit up as we approached, a few traps set to try and
stop intruders but these were luckily not too much of a problem. The corridor
eventually opened out into a fairly large chamber, an archway to our left
opening out into an imposing room featuring some kind of religious undertones
and what appeared to be a sacrificial altar in one end. Two doors were also
present in the room, one dead ahead and one to our right.
We investigated the room with the
altar first, warily inspecting throned chains that connected from the roof and
lead into the altar itself. The altar was clearly for some kind of blood or
life sacrifice, as throned manacles were present in four locations, tracks
present on the surface of the altar’s slab to channel the blood of the victim.
After finding a lever, we found the entire altar raises up into the air along
the chains, but the cuffs themselves had no give, and I believe the act of
raising the altar would cause these bindings to tear into flesh, no doubt to
lead to the victim’s demise.
With the feeling of dread growing
in my mind, we left the altar and moved to the door opposite the entrance,
listening by it for a moment before quietly confirming that we could hear
voices within. Sam volunteered to go ahead to check it out, and despite my
concerns on what may be on the other side, his lack of response was an
indication he had decided to go forth anyway. With a moment of brief
preparation, we waited. When we heard the sounds of weapons being readied and
brisk movements, we pushed open the door and rushed in to help. The fight
lasted all but a few seconds, after which Sam responded in an almost childlike
manner. It turns out that he had attempted a ploy to get the people within to
fight one another, but since we did not know this, we had interrupted their
fight with our rescue.
I resisted the urge to point out
that he should havelet us know first, as I know how proud and independent he
likes to appear, although I am sure he has some kind of insecurity hidden
within judging by the way he avoids notice and even denies his very appearance,
often choosing to appear as a halfling rather than a feline. One day I will ask
him about the reason for his denial of self, but for now it was the wrong time.
After a brief sulk we checked the
bodies and the room to find some strange, and somewhat worrying things. The
people had been playing with cards that had nothing I could see on them,
appearing to be gambling for coins that seemed far older than even some of the
trees I had seen in my travels. If they could talk, I wondered what tales they
could tell us of their existence. Something seemed odd about the people
themselves however, and upon close inspection I spotted horrific marks around
each of their ankles and wrists, as if thorned cuffs has been attached, most
likely from the altar we saw before.
Further investigation lead us to
the conclusion that the people in the room were some kind of undead that seemed
to be tasked with cleaning the main room and alter, for signs of dust and signs
of footprints showed that they had been in their final room for some time but
ventured out, while the area beyond the door was spotlessly clean. After some
brief discussions we then decided to take the remaining door back in the room
adjoining the altar room.
The doorway lead us into a spotless
corridor, lit with more of the eerie self lighting flames. This corridor quickly
put myself and the rest of flock on edge as soft whisperings just outside the
edges of our hearing started to taunt us. Zabeel seemed most unsettled, and
speaking out from his normally calm and quiet composure, he began to accuse me
to being the one causing the whispering. After a few attempts to explain to him
that it was not my doing, I decided to say nothing, hoping that having someone
more tangible to blame than whatever unnatural balance bleeds from these walls
will help him in keeping himself ready. I will keep an eye on him however, as
it would upset me for him to grow so frustrated by these perceived irritations
on my part that it would impact the flock’s trust of one another and put
turbulence in our flight.
The corridor’s walls soon gave way
to a doorway but inside all we could find is a small cold room full of fresh
supplies. Given the age of the other things in this unnatural place this
surprised me, but we decided not to linger too long and continued on. The next
room we found was the most puzzling we found so far, the room a perfectly round
room with a domed roof, the walls covered in slaps of paint that have formed
the shapes of strange arcane script and runes. The source of the paint was most
puzzling of all, a shirtless man wielding a large paintbrush, not seeming to
care or even notice our presence as he feveriously painted, wielding his brush
with each stroke as if it was a natural part of himself, in the way a squirrel
wields its tail to keep its balance.
In his usual quiet and mischievous
manner, Sam stole the paintbrush away from the man and cast it aside with what
I am sure was a feeling of glee, but such jubilation quickly faded as the man
thrust out a hand, causing the paintbrush to return to his hand in the blink of
an eye so he could resume his task, still not taking any notice of us as if he
was lost in his own world. The marks on his wrists and ankles matches those of
the ‘people’ we saw before, giving us a little more insight into the state
these people must of been left in after their ordeal.
Looking for answers I decided to
take a glimpse into the magic of the room and activated my nature’s gift of
sight of the magical thermals of the room. Expecting the swirling magical
sights and winds I normally see, I was taken completely off guard by the runes
that seemed to blast into life, filling my vision with them no matter where I
looked or how tightly I closed my eyes. I could feel searing pain of the runes
and was overwhelmed by it. For how long I was like that I do not know, but
thankfully Zabeel was able to snap me out of it and helped me calm down enough
to see normally once more. Despite this, I am still hesitant to close my eyes,
as I still see glimpses of those runes like the fleeting glance of the sun
leaves a lasting mark upon your vision.
I could not tell if it was because
he sensed my unease, or because the man had failed to be upset by his theft of
the brush, but Sam suggested the next step would, logically be to kill the man
and continue on our way. Normally I would have asked for more of a reason to do
such but given the devastation and unnatural blight this place had caused, I
found myself agreeing with him almost immediately and so I stepped back to
watch as he skillfully wielded his weapon and ended his life in a smooth
strike.
I feared that the visions from
before were returning however as his blood struck the wall as all the runes
began to move in a sinister manner. Not wanting to see for what purpose, I flew
from the room with the rest of the flock, just in time it seems as the entire
room was consumed by whatever chaotic powers had been painted on its walls,
nothing visible to betray the fact we had just left a room, only a smooth wall
that seemed different from its surroundings that prevented me from disbelieving
my memory entirely. Thankfully, the paintbrush was nowhere to be seen.
After a few uneasy moments of
silence broken only by the continued whispering on the edge of our senses, we
decided to continue along the corridor and soon found ourselves at a fork in
our path. We chose to take the left and followed the corridor around into what
seemed to be a much more lived area of the underground. Moving carefully, we
found what seemed to be bedrooms of the people who ‘lived’ here, if living was
the right word for it, and found more of the ancient coins. I looked forward to
showing the coins to Jvala when she meets with us again, her delay caused by
the unease of her pack who, understandably were not keen on the idea of
entering these devoid lands. In a way I am thankful that poor Skydancer did not
have to see this place, as I am certain it would haveruffled his feathers and
upset his spirit to see sky denied to his wings by whatever fell force wards
off the other birds of the area.
We continued to follow the corridor
past the rooms until we reached a set of double doors, and after a quick check
we guessed we had found a combined food and training room. Sam had been able to
identify someone who appeared to be in charge of the pack within. After a
moment to prepare we decided the best approach would be for Sam to enter the
room and dispatch the leader and anyone else he can before we hear the sounds of
alarm, at what point Zabeel and I were to charge into the room, draw attention
and start working together to strike down our prey.
The moment we heard sounds that
Sam’s prey had been noticed, Zabeel and I charged into the room. I was unable
to resist calling out to our foes in a manner that I am sure would have earned
a grin from Vernus, and within moments the room a blur of blades and blood.
After taking a few painful strikes from the enemys I realised the cause, both
Sam and Zabeel out of sight as they used their natural born and skillfully
honed abilities to keep themselves out of the enemy’s sights, while I stood at
the forefront of the combat like a stranded buffalo facing a pack of wolves,
unable to hide behind Vernus and Jvala as normal due to circumstance.
Sam and Zabeel were still there
however, and it quickly became apparent to me that they were striking down
anyone who came to strike me. Unwilling to become pray myself and spurred on by
the help and memories of my friends, I decided to channel my ‘Inner Vernus’ and
attempted to take up a posture similar to the ones I had seen him use. With a
bellow that sent my cloak into a frenzy despite the still air I attempted to
draw the attention of the foes to leave them exposed. In a manner that I hoped
would make Vernus laugh I called,
“Is there anyone else?!” I called
out, standing before the bodies of three others. Three more charged, surprising
me with the speed a ferocity of their strikes before they too fell down.
“Is that it?!” I called out once
more, in a tone I had heard him use before, only to be answered immediately by
a blade in the back, causing me to yelp like a wounded cub. Clearly, I lacked
the viper like reflexes that Vernus always displayed, and so I decided enough
was enough and helped dispatch the remaining foes before licking my wounds.
I think in the future, I will leave
the hissing and thumping of the ground to those that are better suited for it,
but it will still be a fun story to tell the others once we meet with them
again.
