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Cast
Khalid Al Hazareen
Inquisitor of Sarenrae, Moldspeaker and mortal host of Vardishal
Linah Jamil Kaid
Priestess of Sarenrae, healer and custodian of the Kelmarane Church
Grall
Gnoll barbarian, former slave, now freed
Nuveril
Halfling barbarian, wielder of the mighty ancestral hammer of the pugawampis
Zeladiel Araxyll
Elven evoker and master archer
Sajan Krama Sumna
Vudrani monk, group protector and student of Tiger
NPCs
Haleen – Oracle of flame, former flame witch, found by Grall.
Almah Roveshki – Mayoress of Kelmarane, agent of the Pactmasters
Garavel – Almah’s major domo
Father Zantus – Alchemist and lay priest of Nethys
Arjun – Alchemist, student of Zantus, former adventurer
Dashki – Gnoll expert
Oxvard – Priest of Abadar, retired member of the Lions of Senra
Felliped – Gnome illusionist, retired member of the Lions of Senra, stunner of halflings
Undrella – Harpy alchemist, cook, brewer and witch
Brotis – Mercenary deserter, shamed by Grall
Dullen – Mercenary, shamed by Grall
Utarchus – Mercenary, family killed by gnolls near Solku
Elia – Garundi mercenary, has an unrequited crush on Khalid
Fixx – Leader of Almah’s pactmaster guard
Sabeen – Sun touched witch, former adventurer
Grim-Eyes – Gnoll druid, former adventurer, lost in a temporal vortex
Off-stage
Rayhan Xobhadi – Diviner of Katapesh, Zeladiel’s master
Khalib Karadesh – Abbot, Linah’s mentor
Master Al’ Versa – Haleen’s uncle, Grall’s former master
Hakim – Weapon trainer employed by Al’Versa
Tiger – Tiger, ki-mystic and teacher of Sajan
The Pactmasters – The mysterious (and some say alien) rulers of Katapesh
The Carrion King – Leader of the carrion gnoll tribe, Pale Mountain
Vardishal – The North Wind, spirit merged with Khalid
Kardswann – The South Wind, janni (?) and former master of the Kuldis tribe and Kelmarane, dead
Xulthos – Daemon, corruptor of Kelmarane, disintegrated by Linah
This book discovered in the monastery near Kelmarane describes many personages of the various jinn courts. It will take some time to go through it in detail but there are several references to the djinn princess Nefeshti and her primary servitors, the Templars of the Five Winds.
Nefeshti’s history is storied, going back several thousand years beyond available records. The book notes her crusade against the abuse, mortal and otherwise, of wish magic but there are also references to her opposing mortal genie-binders, including the legendary Katapeshi wizard Andrathi. Her actions, particularly the former, frequently brought her into armed conflict with other jinn, particularly the efreet and the shaitan.
The book sets out several theories in relation to her Templars. The primary, taken from the Song of Edrehu is that they were jann (lesser jinn from the prime material plane) made immortal through Nefeshti’s wishcraft for as long as they retained her favour. Another is that they were once human and made into jann by Nefeshti but the book notes this would have been a breach of dictates set down by the djinn court and is therefore unlikely.
Whatever their origins, the book makes clear that the Templars were the primary enforcers of Nefeshti’s will, and the leaders of her followers which included djinn, marids, jann as well as some few mortals.
The book contains a short description of the five Templars. Each was associated with a specific aspect of the wind and wielded a distinct magic weapon, forged by Azer from the Elemental Plane of Fire.
- Vardishal of the North Wind. Also known as the Great General, Vardishal was said to be the most powerful and loyal of the Templars and the leader of Nefeshti’s army. He wielded a sentient magical scimitar known as Tempest.
- Pazhvann of the East Wind. Nefeshti’s advisor and spiritual guide, he was the conscience of the Templars and wielded a tremendous burning flail.
- Zayifid of the West Wind. Nefeshti’s messenger, diplomat and sometimes spy, Zayifid was said to be a careful and patient planner. His weapon is a delicate but razor-sharp scimitar.
- Kardswann of the South Wind. Nefeshti’s scout and a traveller of all the planes, Kardswann was said to be an impulsive but powerful warrior with a love for combat and the strength of a giant. He wielded an elaborate greataxe.
- Davashuum. Said to represent the destructive power of all of the winds, Davashuum is described as an amoral and deadly creature that served Nefeshti as executioner and, in extremes, assassin. She was a master of unarmed combat and wore magic handwraps.
The current (this book is about a hundred years old) status of Nefeshti and her Templars is unknown. The author cites several fragmentary references to Nefeshti’s forces fighting a series of battles about 400 years before the current date against a powerful cult of Rovagug whose power was centred at a great temple, the House of the Beast, situated on the slopes of Pale Mountain in the Brazen Peaks.
These battles were said to have raged across all of the surrounding area with Nefeshti’s army fighting against the cultists and dread creatures of flame and shadow.
The consensus from all available records is that the power of the cult was broken but the author concludes that neither Nefeshti nor her Templars have been heard from since, although travellers in the northern reaches of Katapesh and the southern bounds of Osirion still sometimes attribute miracles or victories to the laters guidance.
The section concludes with a brief mention of the very monastery in which you sit. Travellers to the area reported sightings of a spirit which investigating priests of Sarenrae concluded was that of Vardishal, a minor saint of the Dawnflower. The spirit appeared to be benign and there are reports of it seemingly providing warnings along with the typical stories of healing and other miracles. As the area began to attract pilgrims, the church built and dedicated a shrine to Vardishal on the spot of his most frequent appearances, expanding the monastery around it years later. The author poses the question of whether the spirit Vardishal and the lost Templar are one in the same and, if so, what would keep a warrior of such reputed loyalty bound to the area for so long.
When dragons and genies did battle and the people hid in fear of Rovagug’s hordes, their prayers went to Sarenrae, goddess of light, compassion, and healing. A thousand times, the Dawnflower bound their wounds and gave them courage.
But, after a thousand and one answers to the wounded and the dying, Sarenrae ignored their pleas. Instead, the Dawnflower spoke to the other gods. “Rovagug sinks entire lands and buries cities. No healing can help the dead, and we owe no compassion to the Rough Beast and his endless slaughter. I have a plan.”
With her sword of light, Sarenrae cut a shining hole in the world, in a distant region of the Windswept Wastes where even the genies wandered friendless and alone. To that place, the archdevil Asmodeus lured the god of destruction and wrath, promising greater power, greater chaos, and an end to all things.
Asmodeus said, “Behold, a hole in the world. If you examine it, you may learn how the world was unmade here, and then you may unmake it yourself.” Rovagug reached forward with wormlike limbs and sightless eyes; his million teeth picked at the ragged edge of the hole. Sarenrae pushed Rovagug through the hole with the help of the other gods, for none of them alone could hold the beast for long. Asmodeus sealed the rift of light with a key of darkness that only he could hold, and thus was made the Pit of Gormuz.
The gods celebrated their victory over the ravening madness that might have destroyed creation, but Rovagug yet lived. It is said that the Prince of Hell, Asmodeus, god of slavery, smiled and was content from that day forward. For whatever else might come, he held the only key to Rovagug’s eternal prison, and thus, held the fate of the world in his dark, clawed hands.
Dear Linah
I hope this missive finds you well. It should arrive with the further shipment of stone.
We are well pleased with your progress in restoring the church. I am delighted to inform you that as a result of your efforts the High Council have recognised you and Khalid as Knight Protectors of the Faith and Knight-Abbots of Kelmarane, although Khalid’s titles shall be sealed to the Flame of course.
The Council has also decided to send you a new Head Priest, Kadisa Al’udaak. His task will be to build on your efforts to re-establish the Faith in the town. He is a somewhat unusual man but has great knowledge of the northern lands and a particular interest in the local gnoll tribes and we are hopeful you will find this useful. He should be with you in a few tendays.
I want to reinforce that this decision should not be seen as a slight to you or your performance, merely a reflection of the Council’s belief that you have a different destiny in service to our Goddess than that of administrator. You are well on your way to exceeding the great promise of your childhood. Tales of your progression through our Goddess’s mysteries at such a young age are already being used by teachers to encourage their acolytes. I have heard even some members of the High Council mention your name as a possible future High Priestess.
Now if I know you even a little, your cheeks will be burning reading this. Perhaps it is a product of my own advancing years, but I believe that such power is not granted by the Dawnflower without great need. I fear your destiny will not be won without challenge. For what it is worth you have all of my hopes and blessing for the trials ahead.
Khalib Karadesh
Your learning has been slow and frustrating but bit by bit, month by month, your tenacity has yielded results.
With Linah’s patient assistance, you can read now, if slowly.
The records contain an enormous amount of irrelevance given that they relate to a town of 2000 people who you would not be interested in to start with and are now long dead. They provide no clues to Xulthos’ motives or activities aside from a clear hole where things started going wrong. The fall of the town was amazingly swift.
Your search reveals four families of halflings who lived in the town (indeed it seems in the section of the upper town where you found the amulet): the Duffys, the Perimacs, the Proudfeet and the Tufnells.
Three of the four appear to have lived in Kelmarane for decades, the fourth, the Perimacs appear to have arrived a few years before the disaster. This is not much to go on and you have grown increasingly frustrated as you move through the pile.
You are near the end and on the verge of giving up and devoting your full energies to looking for enemies around the town, when you come across what appears to be a record of births, penned by a clerk and signed by Halruun, Knight Protector of Kelmarane.
4 Pharast 4682
Birth:
Bellsa Perimac (mother), Timor Perimac (father)
Mimsly Perimac (f), Tanelia Perimac (f)
Twins delivered healthy. Such beautiful little girls.
The last time you returned home to the small apartment you rent in Katapesh you found the following letter under the door penned in immaculate handwriting on the finest paper.
Zeladiel Araxyll
I understand your father, Zelandariel Araxyll, is dead. You have my condolences.
As his blood relation and heir you bear responsibility for the discharge of his obligations by all the Laws of Commerce.
Your father undertook to provide me with a Rough Seed in exchange for remuneration. Such remuneration was duly paid in accordance with the Contract.
Unfortunately, your side of the Contract remains unfulfilled. Pursuant to its terms you have until the last date of Rova, 4709 to deliver the Rough Seed. Given your limited magical abilities I will accept delivery in the city of Katapesh rather than require extra-planar transport.
At midnight following the final date you shall be deemed to be in breach of the Contract. The agreed penalty shall thereafter be immediately applied.
Urd, Captain of the Sunset Ship
It has been 15 months since the reclamation of Kelmarane and what was a gnoll ruled, monster-infested ruin is once again a thriving town.
With the Kuldis and Xulthos removed, the Pactmasters have been forthcoming with materials and coin and with their support, and your fighting skills, Almah has managed to rapidly restore this section of the great northern trade route. Generous support and cheap land has encouraged a surge of immigrants, taking the town population to just over seven hundred, including three score soldiers and no one doubts it will soon pass a thousand.
Caravans are now a weekly occurrence, boats, almost a daily, bringing food, trade goods and slaves. The pesh fields have been re-planted and while it will be several years yet until they produce their first crop, the yield will no doubt be extremely lucrative.
Work on the church has progressed steadily with solid support from the main branch of the faith in Solku. While again it may be years until the exterior and the golden roof domes are fully repaired, the interior is nearly complete and the place is once more one of light and celebration. A half dozen priests, junior acolytes from all over Katapesh now assist with the church’s services and its restoration.
Virtually all of the group that set out from Solku more than a year ago have stayed on.
Almah has steadfastly kept her bargain with Undrella, despite the protests of several new citizens. The harpy continues to brew her potions and cook and craft in the tannery.
Zantus and Arjun have set up shop in the battle market. The Vudrani alchemist does not seem to have quite as yet gotten over his injury but even one handed his haircuts are still in great demand.
Likewise Felliped has started a business selling various curios, trinkets and oddities, some enchanted, most not. Her relationship with Nuveril has if anything become more frosty despite the passage of time, and the two are often seen scowling at each other from a distance. Oxvard in turn seems to have fully embraced the quiet life, shunning any role in town politics and is little seen except when his healing is needed.
Dashki is still around, though he spends most of his time in one of the taverns.
Elia has been promoted by Almah to leader of the town’s militia, a task at which the laconic Garundi woman seems to excel.
Tales of your exploits are well known amongst the townspeople. Linah in particular is viewed with great respect by the majority of the citizens. Grall’s treatment remains more mixed. Particularly with Almah’s open support, few now have the courage to disrespect the mighty barbarian to his face (particularly after what happened to those that did) but many are less reluctant to do so behind his back. In particular, much is made of his sharing a house with Haleen. If this bothers the diminutive woman she shows no sign of it.
Of you all Zeladiel is away from Kelmarane the most, splitting his time between the town and Katapesh while he is not escorting caravans. With some pressing, the elf managed to convince his master to take enough time from his studies to enchant your weapons.
Those of you who have been spending time in the hinterlands have noticed an increase in gnollish activity after a period of relative quiet. However, actual contacts have been rare. You get the impression that the gnolls may be scouting. Certainly they seem to be doing their best to avoid a fight. At least for the moment.
You have all returned to the town from your respective activities.
It is the 5th day of Arodus, 4709. It is summer and the heat is absolutely merciless. Few can bear to be outside during the hottest hours bar Grall, at least without begging Linah for magical protection first.
With some difficulty it was explained to Nuveril that the stacks of parchment were records of the lives begun and ended in Kelmarane, records that could be the only source of answers to the mysteries of her birth family. Even once she understood that the papers had to do with births and deaths, she persisted in her belief that the writing served as some kind of binding ritual, spiritually establishing the newly-born in their community and cementing the dead in the netherworld so that the door is shut against their return to the realm of the living. With some trepidation, she approached Linah alone and asked if she could be taught to read in order to tease out her personal mystery from the scratches of ink that imprison it. She absolutely refuses to attempt to write, however. The shamans of her tribe write in the dust for their most powerful rituals, and it is said that even the smallest mistake in their figures can doom a whole family or curse a generation. She fears no battle, no matter the odds, but taking up pen and ink is a responsibility of which she wants no part.
Fifteen months away from her tribe, fifteen months in something passing for civilization, have changed the halfling. It is not only the absence of the filthy leather armor, replaced by a new kit outfitted with metal studs and a faint magic aura, or the shock of hair which, as it has grown, has been cut off under Linah's supervision with a great deal more care and style than it ever received on the savannah. It's also in the way she carries herself: while she moves with no less swagger and surety in battle or in the wilderness, the air of unfriendly defensiveness she once wore in company in town has mellowed to a casual indifference to the knots of people slowly growing to real crowds in the streets of Kelmarane.
Her closest companions have noticed an additional change in Nuveril, one less gradual and organic. The manor house the party shares saw more than its fair share of angry outbursts as Linah patiently went about teaching the halfling to read, but Nuveril was eventually able to begin working her own way through the sheaves of parchment found under the church. Her temper was not calmed by the seemingly fruitless task of combing through the dry lists of names and dates for anything related to her family, and they often heard her cursing by candlelight in the evenings as she read. Several weeks ago, however, her obsessive and angry research came to a sudden and quiet end. She took a paper from the pile, folded it, and tucked it away with her belongings before dousing the candle. In the morning, she walked up to the line of Small-sized housing near the church where she had found her amulet and sat quietly for almost an hour amid the new construction, overlooking the river. Since that time, she has seemed subdued and distracted; introspection sits uncomfortably on her.
|
Following the destruction of Xulthos and the rebirth of Kelmarane, Khalid has become more withdrawn. While still friendly with those who happen upon him, there is something distant about the man, as if he is consumed by thoughts of things not truly relevant to this time and place.
In truth, the inquisitor spends a great deal of his time trying to learn more about the Templars of the Five Winds, and Vardishal in particular. The townsfolk have often seen Khalid off on a ridge to the west, practicing strikes and tumbles, Tempest ever-present in his hand.
As whatever obsession had Khalid bewitched begins to fade, he begins to make contact with his companions and leaders of the reborn Kelmarane.
Sajan does actually reluctantly dance at the ceremony at Undrella's request, although it seems to be more of a battle dance, twists and turns, rolls, cartwheels and backflips as though avoiding the blows of invisible enemies. The result is actually fairly impressive and agile for the big man, although his lack of skill when dancing in a more conventional manner is painfully obvious to all.
Sajan had said little after the final battle with Xulthos, but knew that despite falling to the creatures might early in the battle, his companions may not have survived the onslaught without his sacrifice. As he desperately wrestled the beast from the ground and forced his way up through eyes stained red with his own blood, he had expected the gesture to cost him his own life; but it had been just enough for Nuveril and Linah to finish the held Xulthos off. He spent some of the evening with Khalid and Linah, congratulating them both on the victory and raising a glass politely to Sarenrae; while she was not his patron deity, he felt he must acknowledge her part in their victory. Sajan also sought to find Nuveril in the evening, concerned about her destiny and whether she was well after the difficult battle and the revelations the undead thing had told her.
Although Sajan nodded respectfully to Zeladiel, truthfully he did not know the wizard very well yet in comparison to the others; and he always felt that his talk of his simple life and his few years of experience would bore the ancient being anyway.
He finished his evening by bringing Grall two glasses of the finest drink he could find, wordlessly handing one over to him and raising a glass. He had made his speech on Grall's freedom while he was still a slave and as promised, treated him as he would a friend. He toasted Grall's freedom, danced one final time and then retired around midnight, seeking to reflect and train with Tiger on the deeds and trials of the last few weeks.
The next morning, Sajan had made his decision on what to do now Kelmarane was taken. He sought out Garavel and offered his considerable skill and expertise in keeping the Hinterlands safe from the Gnolls. To keep himself honest in his work and to provide proof of his achievements, Sajan began to keep a large bag of Gnoll's teeth, two taken from every one of the vicious beasts he slew keeping the town safe. The bag became both Sajan's focus and a symbol of fear for the local Gnoll tribes, tales of a massive human crushing Gnoll's heads with his bare hands told to Gnoll children around huddled campfires, his name spoen only in whispers so as to avoid attracting his wrath.
When not on patrol, Sajan would check in regularily with any of his party that remained in Kelmarane; and would always give Undrella a fond visit, saving the finest furs and goods he took from those he slew for her. Any other time he had left was spent vigorously training with iron discipline; for Sajan somehow knew instinctively that the surge of immigration to the town would be likely to have deadly repurcussions...
Grall spends the next year plus enjoying his new life. He doesn't need much so Kelmarane suits his needs just fine.
If allowed he spends part of his time accompanying his friends, Nuveril and Sajan, hunting the Gnolls in the hills near the town. He is conflicted by their taking of prizes from the bodies of his bretheren, but says nothing to them. He hopes that Sarenrae will show them the way beyond their hatred for his people. He hopes that he might find others like him, Gnolls that want peace, but he is also realistic that most of his race are brutal beasts who enjoy the pain of others.
Most of his time though is spent with Linah and Khalid helping to restore the temple. He wears simple robes during this time and is seen using his great strength to help the builders who are fixing the impressive temple. At first the townfolk who see him fear his huge visage, but after a time most get used to him. He has no weapons, other than the dagger hidden on him. Many treat him as some type of freak to be avoided, pulling their children away from him as he walks down the streets, but he eventually wins the respect of a few, and that is enough for Grall.
All of his remaining time is spent with Haleen, the love of his life. Not sure of her true feelings for him, Grall doesn't pursue any of the romantic feelings he has for her. His hideous form isn't one that many could even think of being attracted too. He also fears for Haleen's treatment in the town from her association with him. With all of the people now around, he rarely touches her or treats her in a too familiar manner in public. So is this what it is like to be free he wonders??? Even with these challenges, life is good for Grall...
Zeladiel is eager at first to return to Katapesh and leaves Kelmarane not long after its liberation. He takes news back to Master Rayhan and continues his own studies awhile. Soon, he hears news of Kelmarane and its heroes and before he knows it, Zeladiel has signed up to escort the next caravan back to Kelmarane. He is quiet and solitary and when the caravan is attacked he hurls balls of fire at the enemy. When they turn and run, Zeladiel hurls more balls of fire. None escape alive.
Back at Kelmarane, Zeladiel catches up with his companions. He reports to Almah and Garavel then seeks out Linah and prays with her at the church, again asking for penance. He retreats from Nuveril's glare, then visits Khalid. Their meeting is brief and awkward so Zeladiel offers his services then seeks out Sajan. Zeladiel approves of Sajan's work and collection. He discusses training and discipline with Sajan then eventually finds Grall. Zeladiel listens to Grall's observations of Kelmarane, and joins the Gnoll helping to restore the church. After a while he looks on enviously at Grall's new life, then Zeladiel joins another caravan back to Katapesh.
Less time passes before Zeladiel returns to Kelmarane, and this time he puts more effort into catching up with his companions.
Next time, he brings them small gifts back from Katapesh, mainly incense and perfumes.
Next time, Zeladiel asks if there is anything his companions desire upon his return to Katapesh. He starts scribing scrolls in Kelmarane, and fetching magic items from Katapesh.
Now, Zeladiel has slid into Kelmarane, spending more time there than in the great city. He seems less willing to return each time he is asked to go to Katapesh, but does so quickly and efficiently when he goes. He is in constant demand to protect caravans and travellers and can pick and choose his assignments. But he never turns down a request from Almah, and occasionally visits her when she can spare the time.
Something happened the last time Zeladiel was in Katapesh.
Zeladiel reads the note, and reads it again. He looks perplexedly up and down the street, then reads the words a third time.
Finally, Zeladiel makes his way indoors and unpacks from his long travels. As always, when he is in Katapesh, he seeks an audience with Master Rayhan, bringing him up to date with all that Almah has achieved. This time, Zeladiel also draws forth the note, and presents it to his old master. He asks Master Rayhan what he knows about Zeladiel's father, and if this Urd is a known Pactmaster.
When Zeladiel departs for Kelmarane, he leaves behind two copies of the following letter, one with Master Rayhan and another tucked into his own door.
Urd, Captain of the Sunset Ship
I thank you for bringing this to my attention after all these years.
Despite my blood relation to Zelendariel Araxyll, I have inherited nothing from him.
However, upon presentation of your contract I would be most interested in aiding you that we may both obtain what we are owed.
Zeladiel Araxyll
Now Zeladiel has retreated to his accomodation and is quiet and solitary once again. The few times he has emerged at his own motivation have been to visit Linah and, remarkably, Nuveril.
Grall enjoys his time working at the church. No one bothers him or judges him typically. Most of the workers there can count on him to help with whatever they need.
As time passes and Zeladiel starts to assist at the temple Grall begins to spend more time with the wizard. He asks him many questions as they work about magic and how it can be used in combat. There were some sorcerers in the Arenas, but most were used to put magics on the other warriors. From Zeladiel he learns about illusionary magic and how it can be used to make other miss his large form. He asks Zeladiel if he could make him some of these magics to use on him.
When Zeladiel returns and seems to slip into his own shell, Grall is one of the first to come to where he is staying. Not being one for tact he is quite forceful with his questions...
Grall would push him pretty hard about what is wrong and try to find out what is going on. Hopefully over the last year they have a semblance of a friendship, even if it is through the virtue of hard work.
If Zeladiel won't answer him then Grall tells him he is expected to help at the temple the next day, there is a lot of work to be done and moping around his apartment won't help to get it finished!
The room seems to lighten as Linah opens the chest and the light from her palm is reflected on the metal that lies within. It is all there, and all untouched since the day she placed them there, one year ago to this day. Except the breastplate, that was new. She had given her old one to Elia the day the mercenary was raised to lead the town militia, and just two days later she had replaced it. A wealthy merchant insisted she take a gift as a tolken of his gratitude for curing his son of an affliction that was threatening the young boy's life. The gift had been a magical breast plate, made out of light mithril. Linah had declined at first but the merchant had persisted and finally she accepted. She had yet to wear it. Like all of her other equipment she had placed it here in the chest she kept in the dungeons under the church of Kelmare, waiting for the day the faith would have to pick up arms against a new threat. She had never thought that she would be the one to open the chest again. But then again three years ago she had never though she would be holding ceremonies in the house of the dawnflower, a temple she had helped to reclaim.
The passed year hand been a good one. Each day showed more promise than the last. It had taken time to rebuild the temple, but with the help of Khalid, Grall, Zeladiel and the citizens of Kelmare it once again stood at the east side of the city in all it's splendor. She had done what she could to reastablish the precense of Sarenrae to the region, and helping to rebuild her house was just one part. Linah ha come to treat the sickness and wounds among the citizens of the reborn city, asking nothing in return. Her weekly sermons was well attended and settlers often seeked her council on matters both spiritual and mundane.
Linah runs her hands over the blade of her scimitar. The blade was still sharp and cool to the touch, even after lying locked away for more than a year. She takes one last look at the items before covering them with the silk blanket and carefully closing the lid. I wonder if i will be the next one to open the chest, she thinks to herself as the starts to acend the stairs up to the great hall of the church. The latest letter her mentor sent stated that the council was sending a new head priest to Kelmare. It said that the council belived that destiny had other things in store for her. What things the letter did not say. Although that was not what had sent her mind spinning. That was the thought of teachers using her tale as encouragement for their acolytes. Khalib truly knew his apprentice well, her cheeks had been set ablaze the first time she read his letter. They had even burned as she read the letter for the fifth time this morning.
It takes some time for her eyes to adjust to the great all bathing in the light from the noon sun. Linah approaches the altar and kneels before the symbol of Sarenrae spreading her wings across the room. Looking upon the icon of the dawnflower opening her arms had always bringed peace and comfort to the young cleric, even before the goddess chose her to clense the sickness from her brother, so many years ago. "I will follow wherever you lead", Linah tells the symbol before standing up and walking out into the noon sun. What would the future hold? Only the dawnflower could tell.
Her closest companions have noticed an additional change in Nuveril, one less gradual and organic. The manor house the party shares saw more than its fair share of angry outbursts as Linah patiently went about teaching the halfling to read, but Nuveril was eventually able to begin working her own way through the sheaves of parchment found under the church. Her temper was not calmed by the seemingly fruitless task of combing through the dry lists of names and dates for anything related to her family, and they often heard her cursing by candlelight in the evenings as she read. Several weeks ago, however, her obsessive and angry research came to a sudden and quiet end. She took a paper from the pile, folded it, and tucked it away with her belongings before dousing the candle. In the morning, she walked up to the line of Small-sized housing near the church where she had found her amulet and sat quietly for almost an hour amid the new construction, overlooking the river. Since that time, she has seemed subdued and distracted; introspection sits uncomfortably on her.
Linah sits at a table with a letter in her hands, reading it over and over. "Did you find what you were looking for?", the cleric asks Nuveril as the halfling returns. She folds her letter and stows it in her sleeve.
Now Zeladiel has retreated to his accomodation and is quiet and solitary once again. The few times he has emerged at his own motivation have been to visit Linah and, remarkably, Nuveril.
The change in Zeladiel's behavoir has gotten Linah worried. "I have noticed that you have secluded yourself since arriving back at Kelmarane. Is anything amiss?", she asks the elf as they meet.
Linah sits at a table with a letter in her hands, reading it over and over. "Did you find what you were looking for?", the cleric asks Nuveril as the halfling returns. She folds her letter and stows it in her sleeve.
Nuveril looks away sullenly for a moment before she speaks. "I never gave much thought to my mother ... to the one who gave me birth. I knew her story, or thought I knew. She was a slave; they forced her to leave me behind. I never resented her; rather, if I thought of her at all, I thanked her for doing me a kindness. She may have expected me to die, but death is better than life as a slave. And she? She was dead, or alive a slave. What was there to think about?" She meets Linah's eyes for the first time. "But everything I thought I knew was wrong. My mother was never in the wilderness. She died here, in your church, betrayed by your Sun-Lady's knight protector." Her voice is bitter. "I have found nothing but more questions. Someone took me away from here, away from my mother and the death that awaited her, before Xulthos drove everyone mad. Who carried me away, and when, and why?!?" Her voice rises in frustration.
Linah turns from the table to face Nuveril. "Do you know where to start searching for the anwsers to these new questions?", she asks the halfling in a soft voice.
The day begun like most for Sajan, for he had something of a routine after so long in Kelmarane. He woke sharply upon the simple bed of furs and straw he slept on and after a quick wash was out upon the streets by half 4, the town not quite light yet. Climbing carefully to his favourite rooftop, Sajan stretched and limbered his muscles, preparing them for the strain to come. For the next hour, he performed complicated martial arts maneuvers, acrobatic flips, stances and shadow boxed with unseen assailants.
His large body fatigued but bearing not a drop of sweat, Sajan meditated until he could feel the warmth of the sun begin to heat his skin. Opening his eyes, he could see the dawn was coming. He sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the building and watched the sunrise solemnly. As always, he thought of simpler times as a farmers son, before the Gnolls had come.
Sajan sensed Grall thought he harbored hatred for the race, but he was not so simple in his feelings. It would be easy, far too easy, to simply hate them all. It had been much harder to understand and come to terms with the fact that the Gnolls were not inherently evil. In truth, even the tribe that had slaughtered his parents were not all evil. Many of them were cruel, vicious killers who had revelled in the slaughter. Others though, he was sure, were simply doing their best to survive, following the strong in the pack in order to survive and thrive.
Grall himself was proof that it was their upbringing and experiences that shaped them, not merely their instincts and base desires. By striving against his nature, Grall was destined to be enlightened in this life and his spirit would be rewarded with a higher form of life; perhaps even humanity, for his deeds; should he stay the course. Sajan strengthed his resolve to help both Grall and Nuveril be all they could be and find peace within themselves.
Sajan's protective nature had somehow shone through in his understanding of ki and Tiger's teachings- after the battle with Xulthos he found he could influence other's actions with a single word, infused with a large amount of ki, causing a clumsy blow to strike true, or a companion to rally themselves against threats both magic and mundane in nature. Tiger had not been particularily impressed with this ability, encouraging Sajan to strengthen his connection to the Four Winds that shaped the world instead. His focus was not wasted on the giant, for the force with which Sajan could channel these powers was growing as rapidly as his understanding of them.
After the sun had risen fully, Sajan pushed himself off the building. The fish monger who set up shop opposite the building had been astonished the first time a large Vudrani had fallen thirty feet without injury or complaint, but barely raised an eyebrow now, simply waving his usual morning greeting. Sajan waved back, then went to see Undrella.
Linah turns from the table to face Nuveril. "Do you know where to start searching for the anwsers to these new questions?", she asks the halfling in a soft voice.
"Who is there to ask? Everyone who lived here died here, years ago. The only one who might have known was the Gnome Halruun, and he would not have told me the truth if he remembered it."
"I will write to my teacher and ask if he had any correspondence with Halruun, or if he knows anyone who did. I can not promise it will anwser your questions, but it is worth to try", Linah says and gathers her pen and ink. She would have to write a reply to his letter sometime, and adding Nuveril's cause would force her to write it sooner rather than later. Her cheeks were allready burning just by the thought of Khalib's last missive. "Did the stack you took mention any other name than Perimac?" the cleric asks before going back to the church to write her letter.
Nuveril draws in a sharp breath through her nostrils. She hadn't been aware that Linah had seen the record. "Bellsa," she answers stiffly, the unfamiliar cadences of the Halfling name stumbling off her tongue, "and Timor. They were not here long: only a few years before the end."
"I shall ask master Karadesh for aid. He might not have the anwser but perhaps he can help steer us on the right path". Linah gives Nuveril an encouraging smile and walks out the door and into the sunlight.
He asks Master Rayhan what he knows about Zeladiel's father, and if this Urd is a known Pactmaster.
I know a little, although in truth your father was more business associate than friend. I gather that when he and your mother came here to the south they were nearly penniless. He gained an influx of coin from somewhere to fund his trading activities, but he never spoke of its source.
Urd is not a name that is known to me but this Sunset Ship .. well its part of the city's folklore although I've heard the name from enough tounges not to think there is some truth to it. The taletellers say it docks here every few decades, a great caravel with red sails. From where, noone knows. Its traders always pay in rubies, great blood red things.
Perhaps this is all just a bad jape but I'd be inclined not to just ignore it. One of the merchant guilds has asked me to verify whether some artifacts are Nexian in origin. When I am finished with that I will see what I can find out.
The fierce heat is just starting to recede as it approaches late afternoon although it is still far from pleasant.
Khalid, Sajan, Nuveril, Linah (having earlier completed her letter and made arrangements for it to be sent) and Zeladiel are taking their ease in the manor.
Grall in turn has worked straight through the heat, today on the small vegetable garden he and Haleen have laid in on the strip of land which seperates their cottage and the edge of the drop-off.
There is a respectful knock on the door of the manor, one of Almah's servants, a doe-eyed girl in her late teens.
Masters, mistresses, if it pleases you to come with me. My lady has asked if you could attend her. It seems as if the new head priest has arrived and has asked to speak with you... I mean the five of you. She looks uncomfortable.
The ground here is fertile and despite the conditions the garden is faring well although the choice of plants is necessarily limited. Haleen has gone to the market and you are focused on your task, a few pesky weeds yielding easily enough to your now practised movements.
So much so that it takes a few moments for you to notice the figure standing about twenty feet away, right on the edge of the cliff.
A gnoll, female and very comely by the standards of your race, she wears no armour, merely worn travelling leathers, although the long spear cradled in one arm looks business like enough. Metal jewellrey adorns her fingers, neck and ears and coppery bracers cover most of her arms.
She regard you with a tight, faintly contemptuous look and when she speaks (in gnoll) it is with exactly the same tone.
The mighty Grrall. Killer of his own kind. Champion of the humans. A garrdenerr, grrubbing in the dirrt like an oblong.
There is something extremely familiar about this gnoll although you'd swear you've never seen her before. Your suddenly acutely aware that your falchion is sitting in a chest in the cottage and only your dagger rests on your side. Your not quite sure how she would have got around you unless she somehow climbed the cliff but you can't see any equipment and she doesn't look exerted in the slightest.
You've noted an increasing intensity in Tiger's training in the last few months. The creature has grown no more fond of providing any explanation or answers except cryptic references to you "needing to be ready". At one point where you were slow to pick up a particular technique he said with some exasperation "you will never defeat her like that!".
In recent weeks you have worked on building up your defences against being stunned, Tiger prodding you again and again with blows that seem to penetrate your best defenses with ease and leave you staggered.
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Masters, mistresses, if it pleases you to come with me. My lady has asked if you could attend her. It seems as if the new head priest has arrived and has asked to speak with you... I mean the five of you. She looks uncomfortable.
"I would be happy to meet with Lady Almah and this new priest, but there are six of us, not five. Surely Grall has done more than enough to earn the respect of Kelmarane."
** spoiler omitted **
He looks around wearily before replying to the Gnoll, standing to his full height for once, instead of his slightly hunched over posture he normally carries himself with in order to not scare the people in the town as much.
In Gnoll, Your words mean to sting, even though they are not entirely true. What do you want?
Have you come here to serve Sarenrae's light and join my cause? he says with a little srcasm of his own as his holy symbol rests openly on his chest.
He assumes this is trouble, and he also assumes that the creature flew up here, seeing the Djinn fly during the re-taking of Kelmarane, this makes him very wary...
Masters, mistresses, if it pleases you to come with me. My lady has asked if you could attend her. It seems as if the new head priest has arrived and has asked to speak with you... I mean the five of you. She looks uncomfortable."I would be happy to meet with Lady Almah and this new priest, but there are six of us, not five. Surely Grall has done more than enough to earn the respect of Kelmarane."
Certainly, master. Everyone has heard the tales of Grall! I cannot speak for my mistress, master. I'm sure she has a good reason.
Grall sniffs the air, as if to test what is before him to make sure it is real.He looks around wearily before replying to the Gnoll, standing to his full height for once, instead of his slightly hunched over posture he normally carries himself with in order to not scare the people in the town as much.
In Gnoll, Your words mean to sting, even though they are not entirely true. What do you want?
Have you come here to serve Sarenrae's light and join my cause? he says with a little srcasm of his own as his holy symbol rests openly on his chest.
He assumes this is trouble, and he also assumes that the creature flew up here, seeing the Djinn fly during the re-taking of Kelmarane, this makes him very wary...
The gnoll takes a few steps toward you, heedlessly crushing a few plants beneath her feet. You can see some kind of sheen in the air around her but she seems solid enough. She looks at your holy symbol with some fascination and her eyes flick back to your face.
I came to see you with mine own eyes. To see what manner of gnoll you are. Pack or prrey.
The humans are no frriends of the trribes. This is our land and the humans drrive us to the drriest, deadest corrners of it!
And yet you serrve them. I wanted to ask you why.... cousin.
** spoiler omitted **
We are slaves to the rough beast, slaves to the mistress of monsters. When we will be our own?
You say the humans are not our friends? Why should they be. We try to enslave them, take what is not ours. We think because we can take things sometimes that are not ours we are strong? Strong is helping those that can't help themselves, building pack over our personal desires.
I am Grall, I will protect those who deserve protecting and destroy those who seek to destroy.
Again, why are you here?
Nuveril, sitting apart in a doorway alone with her dark thoughts, seems to welcome the interruption. "Let us meet this fine priest," she grimaces a little at the word, "who is to be entrusted with the safety of this town." You notice she picks up her weapons with a bit more eagerness than a social call would usually warrant.
I will assume that Almah made a mistake. I'll fetch Grall and meet the rest of you there. Sajan said, bounding out of the door swiftly.
"Why would Grall not be included?" she asks in puzzlement. "Very well, please show the way. I am eager to meet with master Al'udaak."
"You will not need those, my friend", Linah says to Nuveril and points to the halflings arsenal as the group departs.
"You will not need those, my friend", Linah says to Nuveril and points to the halflings arsenal as the group departs.
"As I'm sure no one once thought to need weapons against Halruun," Nuveril responds sourly. She does not leave her gear behind.
"Now you are being unfair. I was not trying to discourage you if they make you feel safe. Just remember that priest is not a synonym for evil", Linah replies in her soft voice.
In Gnoll, Humph, so you think that there are no other choices than pack or prey? That is part of the problem with our people, we have let our actions become too limited, dictate who we are, who we can be. I want us to more more.We are slaves to the rough beast, slaves to the mistress of monsters. When we will be our own?
You say the humans are not our friends? Why should they be. We try to enslave them, take what is not ours. We think because we can take things sometimes that are not ours we are strong? Strong is helping those that can't help themselves, building pack over our personal desires.
I am Grall, I will protect those who deserve protecting and destroy those who seek to destroy.
Again, why are you here?
She answers your last question first. Her voice is compelling, smooth and lyrical (for a gnoll). Just to talk. No need to be afrraid mighty warrrior, I'll not try and carrry you off. I am Shiz, your motherr's sisterr. You arre not my enemy... unless of courrse you make yourrself one.
You speak of prrotecting and destrroying but in the end you make a choice who is worrthy of each. Yourr will, yourr choice. And it happens if you have the strrength.
I am no differrent. I am a slave to noone. I may owe allegiance to a strrong leader but I do as I please. Wanderr the worrld deciding who to prrotect and who to destrroy.
You are known to all of the norrtherrn tribes now. All have heard of Grrall, the one that fights against his own kind. You are known to Gharrtog, the Carrrion King. As strrong as you arre it is nothing comparred to his strrength. You killed his Emissarry. He does not forrget those who have wrronged him.
He has a thousand fighters at his call. Yourr defenses herre arre not strrong. He has only to close his fist arround this town and all the humans will die. The human .. the little one. She would die too.
But that does not need to happen. Come with me. Willingly. Stand beforre the Carrrion King and acknowledge his powerr. Offerr to serrve him and he will sparre this place. You have lived your whole life in the humans worrld. You do not know what it is like to live as a gnoll. To walk frree overr the hills living as you please. It is what your motherr would have wanted.
Come with me Grrall.
You follow the servant, Sajan running off ahead.
Work is continuing on the lower gatehouse, it will be some months yet before its defenses are functional.
People are starting to come back outside and there is already light traffic both ways on the ramp. The group is old hat by now to the older townspeople but the newcomers stare.
** spoiler omitted **...
But you see he has already played his hand, shown a little doubt in his mind by trying to sway me over to his cause rather than just destroying me. If he doesn't fear me then why bother trying?
You now know why, I have been given a gift. I am the light, nothing can stand against it, not even this Carrion King. Tell him I will be coming for him, that no power can save him against the light. If he comes against us, it will be his undoing.
Do you really do what you want or do you fear not to do what it wants?Come with me, learn what it is like to love, to be at peace, not to fear all of the time. Help us to free our people from the Carrion Kings chains? Join me Shiz...
"The last time I returned to Katapesh I found the following letter under the door to my apartment."
It is penned in the finest handwriting.
Zeladiel Araxyll
I understand your father, Zelandariel Araxyll, is dead. You have my condolences.
As his blood relation and heir you bear responsibility for the discharge of his obligations by all the Laws of Commerce.
Your father undertook to provide me with a Rough Seed in exchange for remuneration. Such remuneration was duly paid in accordance with the Contract.
Unfortunately, your side of the Contract remains unfulfilled. Pursuant to its terms you have until the last date of Rova, 4709 to deliver the Rough Seed. Given your limited magical abilities I will accept delivery in the city of Katapesh rather than require extra-planar transport.
At midnight following the final date you shall be deemed to be in breach of the Contract. The agreed penalty shall thereafter be immediately applied.
Urd, Captain of the Sunset Ship
"Master Rayhan informs me this Sunset Ship is part of the folklore of Katapesh and thinks there is some truth to it. The taletellers say it docks there every few decades, a great caravel with red sails. From where, noone knows. Its traders always pay in rubies, great blood red things.
I think it best I am in Katapesh at the end of next month. If you wish to join me your support would be most welcome, though I expect you not to get involved in what could be Infernal matters."
Zeladiel silently follows the servant, lost in his own thoughts.
** spoiler omitted **
Zeladiel silently follows the servant, lost in his own thoughts.
Grall looks to Linah a little confused...
But what does it mean Zeladiel? What is this rrrough seed and why do you need to be therrre forrr this ship?
I underrrstand debts, but what does this mean forrr you?
Again you talk about taking and destroying, not building and nurturing. I want nothing more than freedom for my people, freedom from another servant of evil, this Carrion King that you speak of.
But you see he has already played his hand, shown a little doubt in his mind by trying to sway me over to his cause rather than just destroying me. If he doesn't fear me then why bother trying?
You now know why, I have been given a gift. I am the light, nothing can stand against it, not even this Carrion King. Tell him I will be coming for him, that no power can save him against the light. If he comes against us, it will be his undoing.
Do you really do what you want or do you fear not to do what it wants?Come with me, learn what it is like to love, to be at peace, not to fear all of the time. Help us to free our people from the Carrion Kings chains?
Join me Shiz...
She seems honestly surprised. Join you as a slave to the humans? I see no building or nurrturring by them that does not come at our people's expense. They've twisted yourr mind arround. You call the Carrion King evil but you've neverr met him.
As for fearr, she laughs. What makes you think he even knows I'm herre?
She starts to rise off the ground obviously empowered by some enchantment.
If you change your mind, come to Pale Mountain and ask forr me. But do not come as an enemy Grrall. Do not come as my enemy!
She floats over the cliff edge.
You can see Sajan coming around the side of the cottage at a jog.
You arrive at Grall and Haleen's cottage and circle around toward the door. You can see Grall standing in the small garden between the house and the cliff edge apparently talking to a female gnoll with a long spear who is floating a little way above the ground and moving backward over the cliff edge.
Grall says nothing else to the departing Gnoll but then looks over at Sajan, his ears flat to his head signaling to Sajan that he is sad. He walks over to him and rests his hand on his shoulder, Ourrr time at peace is at an end my frrriend. That was a Gnoll, trrrying to sway me to the Carrrrion King.
This may be a signal that it plans to move against Kelmarrrane soon. I am afrrraid that the next leg of my destiny calls Sajan, it is time for me to fight this Carrrion King.
What brrrings you herrre today?
Assuming the Sajan tells him what this is about, he thinks that it can't be a coincidence. He goes into the house and quickly returns, ready to do battle...
Sajan thought for a moment then responded.
It is time for us to fight him Grall. I have sensed a new struggle coming for a few weeks now. Almah requests our presence for a meeting- come.
Neither of you do anything to try and prevent the gnoll from leaving and she flies down out of sight. You don't think any of the other townspeople would have noticed her but it is hard to say who might have been looking out the window at the right moment.
You re-join the others as they make their way to the battle market.
The four of you are joined by Sajan and Grall just outside the battle market. You can't help but notice that the gnoll barbarian is wearing his armour and his falchion is strapped to his back.
Almah's servant gives a start at the sight but continues inside and you follow.
As is usual these days the doors to the market stand open and the ground level is packed, every market stall is full and crowds of townspeople and their slaves move between them doing their shopping.
Trade goods and supplies make up the larger part of the wares available (although bulky items and materials are usually sold in the markets in the lower town) but it is also possible to buy clothing, weapons, armour and a wide range of curios as well as luxury items: rare spices, silks and other things. Felliped's shop is here as well as a small stall that Zantus and Arjun (and sometimes Undrella)use to sell alchemical items and potions.
Aside from a few people enjoying a late lunch the stage sits empty. By Almah's decree, it is now used for performances rather than blood sport.
The crowd is predominantly human and Kellish although there is a smattering of others. A pair of Garundi merchants haggle over leather goods. A rare half-orc, naked to the waist, sits at the bar although he does not appear to be drinking anything. An even rarer dwarf is throwing dice with a few off-duty soldiers. You make your way toward the steps to the upper levels (each is guarded by one of Elia's militia at least during the day) and head up. As you go the half-orc turns to regard you and moves to stand but your already on the stairs.
The servant leads you up to the third level, Almah's personal chambers and sitting area, to the very room overlooking the battle market where your struggle with Kardswann ended badly for the erstwilde Templar of the Four Winds.
Almah and Garavel are sitting and drinking coffee with a man you can only presume is the new head priest. Even slouched in a chair he seems very tall although gaunt. A red sunburst tattoo in the shape of Sarenrae's holy symbol is spread across most of his brow and with a tanned and shaven head the effect is fairly startling.
He wears travel-stained red and yellow vestments over leathers, a very worn and battered looking scabbard holds a scimitar with a wrapped hilt.
The man seems pleased to see you although his eyes flick momentarily to the heavily armed Grall, speaking before Almah can make an introduction.
Hello, hello. It is a pleasure to meet the heroes of Kelmarane. I am known as Kadisa Al'udaak, although call me Kadisa please.
He turns to regard Linah. The blessings of the Dawnflower be upon you sister! Your work here must surely please the Goddess herself!
Well met, Kadisa... Sajan says, extending a bow to the man.
Grall bows his head deeply in deference to the high priest of Sarenrae but says little at the moment.