Olvenking Hazendel I of Sunndi's page

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Hazendel could hold silent no longer. "But, O, My Lord Trithereon!," (for he knew now to Whom he spoke) "Who is this other mighty foe, nigh unto Wastri in strength AND evil?? And how is thine humble servant and his kingdom to stand against TWO foes of such power and hatred??"

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Earthday morning, ~9:00 AM, 20th of Flocktime, in the fragrant garden within the bailey of the Royal Palace at Pitchfield, capital city of the Kingdom of Sunndi:

Olvenking Hazendel I, Steward of the South and Defender of Sunndi, sits on the lip of a rose quartz fountain basin, meditating to the susurrus of the bubbling water, and the melodic singing of halcyons and less exotic birds, occasionally punctuated by the strident call of a peacock prancing around the bailey. He was contemplating the harrowing events that had occurred in the first weeks of the month--Wastri and his Hopping Horde's swift and savage invasion of Sunndi and total razing of several watchtowers, villages, and towns along the southern border with the Vast Swamp and up the east bank of the Pawluck River .... The Battle of Pitchfield Meadows seemed like it had only occurred yesterday, though a full week had passed since he and his allies had met Wastri, "The Hopping Prophet" and "Hammer of Demihumans," in fierce battle at the Rieuwood Gate ....

His revery was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a strange reflection in the water of the rose quartz fountain basin--a reflection where none should have been! The tingling sensation of gooseflesh ran from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, and up both arms, and his right hand darted to the jeweled hilt of the magic sword that hung at his left hip .... Yet, though the figure reflected in the fountain was exceedingly strange and unexpected, there was something comfortingly familiar about its appearance ....

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Olvenking of Sunndi Hazendel warily moved into position to Wastri's left side, parrying an attempt to skewer him with Skewer of the Impure as he slid by the wounded and furious demigod's guard. "YOU HAVE MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE, WASTRI!! You should've stayed in your stinking swamp!"

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In the stone-cobbled plaza just inside the South Gate of Pitchfield, Olvenking Hazendel I of Sunndi and several mighty allies stand with weapons ready, watching as the pair of massive, ironclad portals bow inward under Wastri's first blow, the great iron bar that holds them fast bending with a metallic groan .... The grey elf king calls out a warning to his assembled allies: "Stand ready, defenders of Pitchfield and esteemed allies! The portals will not hold for another such stroke!" Hazendel then chants a quick incantation, conjuring a wall of scintillating prismatic brilliance (a prismatic wall) that seals the arched gateway just inside the portals.

"Nothing prevents the frog-god from leaping over the wall to strike at us," warns Hazendel, "He seeks to sunder the gates to let in his minions, of course ....", observed the grey elf king. A second mighty blow from without did exactly that! *SKA-DOOOOSSSHHH!!*--*ZZZAAAPPP!!!* Both portals and the bent iron bar that flew off its brackets rebounded back with a sizzle of arcane energy the instant they contacted the shimmering wall of rainbow-hued light! The sundered portals swung outward, revealing the awful form of Wastri -- a grotesquely-proportioned, hunchbacked, bandy-legged human man, with distinctly frog-like features: bulging eyes bloodshot with hatred and rage, mottled and wart-riddled complexion, lank strands of stringy white hair sticking out from under a gray bishop's mitre, clad in ill-fitting parti-colored gray and yellow garments, and the glaive-guisarme "Skewer of the Impure" poised to strike again -- but the demigod had not anticipated Hazendel's wall of prismatic energy, and for half a heartbeat, he gawked at it in surprise, bulging bloodshot eyes blinking alternately ....

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On Starday the 8th of Flocktime, the war council commenced. Olvenking Hazendel I heard the advise of each of the assembled lords and ladies of his court. Some, such as Dwarflord Kufrik Copperbeard (from the Glittering Halls under the Glorioles Mountains), and the human Count Arthund of New Keep, counseled an immediate declaration of war against Wastri and his horde. Others, such as the gray elf Lord Solian Lhalabar (of the Rieuwood enclave of Greenboughs), and the gnome Laird Rasildon Neddlefiddle (from the Hollow Hills enclave of Sparkleburrows), argued that going to war against a demigod and his horde of fanatical minions would be the height of folly without first securing aid from powerful allies.

"Who would you have us call upon?," queried Hazendel of the latter camp (in the royal third person). "Perhaps the gray elves of the Lendore Isles would come to our aid," suggested Laird Rasildon of Sparkleburrows. "Nay!," scoffed Dwarflord Kufrik of the Glittering Halls, "They will not come to our aid! They care only for themselves, and sink any ship that dares to draw too nigh the Spindrifts!” Baron Herrek of Meadowdale suggested, "Why not appeal to the Horned King of Medegia for aid?" At this suggestion, Elflord Solian of Greenboughs laughed mirthlessly, replying, "Has the goodly Baron of Meadowdale gone completely mad!? Does he forget that this so-called 'Horned King' wields the unholy Sword of Kas, and gathers under his banner a host of orcs, goblin-kind, fiends, and evil folk of every stripe??" Baron Herrek retorted, "I have not forgotten, Elflord Solian. Have you forgotten that in the three years since the Horned King conquered the wicked See of Medegia, not once has he ever threatened the peace of our fair realm?” Elflord Solian gave no answer to this, for the Baron of Meadowdale had spoken truth.

Though loathe to request aid from such an evil ally as the Horned King Malvolio I of Medegia, Hazendel was left with few other options. He immediately commanded his court wizard, the gray elven archmage Halafarin Mithralbow, to greater teleport to the distant Kingdom of Celene (many leagues to the northwest) and plead for aid from the isolationist Elfqueen Yolande (though he did not hold out much hope for a favorable response). The olvenking also dispatched the human wizard, Thandorias "Thunderstaff," to greater teleport to the Free City of Greyhawk (also far to the northwest) and seek the aid of the powerful archmages rumored to reside there. Finally, he reluctantly ordered the gnome illusionist, Kaspippen Pamblehemble, to greater teleport north to Nulbish, capital of the Horned Kingdom of Medegia, to broker a dubious alliance with the evil-but-lawful Horned King Malvolio I ....

Upon hearing the wood elf ranger’s grim report, the olvenking was heartsick and furious. He summoned all of his noble courtiers to a war council at the royal court in Pitchfield, and these arrived over the next few days. Gray elf lords and ladies from the Rieuwood Forest arrived, borne on the wings of their giant eagle steeds; dwarven lords from the realms under the Glorioles Mountains and the Hestmark Highlands rode into the capital on dire boars; gnome lairds and halfling sheriffs from the Hollow Hills arrived on the backs of sturdy highlands ponies; and human lords and ladies from the patchwork of counties and baronies throughout the heartland arrived in horse-drawn carriages and coaches.

On Waterday the 5th, the adventurers from Rieuwood Forest (the grey elves Gael, Finnandel, and Sven, and their half-orc "foster nephew," Talfryn) who'd cleared the Disembowlers goblinoid tribe out of the ground level of Thunderforge Keep, brought word of their deeds to Hazendel (as mentioned in the post prior to the previous post). The olvenking rewarded the Rieuwood adventurers with upgraded arms and armor, some coins, and fast horses, and commanded them to ride ahead and finish pacifying Thunderforge Keep. Hazendel then led a throng of some three hundred refugees who'd recently arrived in Pitchfield to the ancient dwarven fortress, where they have begun to settle in. The olvenking then rode swiftly back to Pitchfield to await the rest of his noble vassals ....

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Having delivered her dire news to the olvenking, Taenya Lufiel bowed deeply once more, and awaited his command. Olvenking Hazendel I spoke: "You have served us well in bringing these fell tidings to our attention, Taenya Lufiel, though your words vex us greatly, and fill our heart with wrath! Though we much desire to ride out at the head of our royal army and meet the foul Wastri and his wicked horde in glorious battle, we must consider that Wastri is no mere mortal foe. We shall call our courtiers to a war council, and hear from each what they deem the wisest course of action. Would that our fair realm was not beset on all sides by enemies ...." (For indeed, to the north of Sunndi were the former vassal states of the decadent and fiend-worshiping Great Kingdom of Aerdy, each ruled by a tyrannical overking vying for dominance; and to the south stretched the monster-infested Vast Swamp, and beyond, the Tilvanot Peninsula, ruled by the insidious Scarlet Brotherhood.)

Olvenking Hazendel I called his noble courtiers to attend an urgent war council at the royal court in Pitchfield. Over the following few days, noble vassals arrived from throughout the Kingdom of Sunndi -- gray elf lords and ladies from Rieuwood Forest flew in on the backs of giant eagles; dwarflords from the Glorioles Mountains and the Hestmark Highlands rode in on dire boar steeds; gnome lairds and halfling sheriffs from the Hollow Hills rode in on highland ponies; and human lords and ladies from the patchwork of counties and baronies throughout the heartland arrived in horse-drawn carriages and coaches.

On Starday the 8th of Flocktime (or Violets), the war council commenced, and Olvenking Hazendel I heard the advise of each of the assembled lords and ladies of his court. Some, such as Dwarflord Kufrik Copperbeard (from the Glittering Halls under the Glorioles Mountains), and the human Count Arthund of New Keep, counseled an immediate declaration of war against Wastri and his horde. Others, such as the gray elf Lord Solian Lhalabar (of the Rieuwood enclave of Greenboughs), and the gnome Laird Rasildon Neddlefiddle (from the Hollow Hills enclave of Sparkleburrows), argued that going to war against a demigod and his horde of fanatical minions would be the height of folly without first securing aid from powerful allies.

"Who would you have us call upon?," queried Hazendel of the latter camp. "Perhaps the gray elves of the Lendore Isles would come to our aid," suggested Laird Rasildon of Sparkleburrows. "Nay!," scoffed Dwarflord Kufrik of the Glittering Halls, "They will not come to our aid! They care only for themselves, and sink any ship that dares to draw too nigh the Spindrifts!' Baron Herrek of Meadowdale suggested, "Why not appeal to the Horned King of Medegia for aid?" At this suggestion, Elflord Solian of Greenboughs laughed mirthlessly, replying, "Has the goodly Baron of Meadowdale gone completely mad!? Does he forget that this so-called 'Horned King' wields the unholy Sword of Kas, and gathers under his banner a host of orcs, goblin-kind, fiends, and evil folk of every kind??" Baron Herrek retorted, "I have not forgotten, Elflord Solian. Have you forgotten that in the three years since the Horned King conquered the wicked See of Medegia, not once has he ever threatened the peace of our fair realm?' Elflord Solian gave no answer to this, for the Baron of Meadowdale had spoken truth.

Though loathe to request aid from such an evil ally as the Horned King Malvolio I of Medegia, Hazendel was left with few other options. He immediately commanded his court wizard, the gray elven archmage Halafarin Mithralbow, to teleport to the distant Kingdom of Celene (many leagues to the northwest) and plead for aid from the isolationist Elfqueen Yolande (though he did not hold out much hope for a favorable response). The olvenking also dispatched the human wizard, Thandorias "Thunderstaff," to teleport to the Free City of Greyhawk (also far to the northwest) and seek the aid of the powerful archmages rumored to reside there. Finally, he reluctantly ordered the gnome illusionist, Kaspippen Pamblehemble, to teleport north to Nulbish, capital of the Horned Kingdom of Medegia, to broker a dubious alliance with the evil-but-lawful Horned King Malvolio I ....

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Waterday the 5th of Flocktime (called Violets by the elves), 600 CY, ~2:00 PM ....

In his magnificent throne room within the royal palace in Pitchfield, capital of the Kingdom of Sunndi, Olvenking Hazendel I sat upon his throne of ornately-sculpted ippwood, inlaid with flawless amethysts, emeralds, and rose quartzes, and draped with the feathered hide of a great owlbear. Upon his brow rested the finely-wrought mithral crown inlaid with its flawless diamond of perfect water, which always glowed with an inner mote of moonlight from the aquamarine lesser moon, Celene. His graceful hands gripped the jeweled scabbard of Calangaladrem (his Flame Tongue longsword), and he listened with an expression of serene calm that belied his growing alarm and outrage to the urgent report of his most capable scout, Taenya Lufiel.

Taenya was a lithe and beautiful wood elf ranger, who flew far and wide over the realm each night on the back of her dire bat companion, Chirper. She had raced into the throne room, breathless, and bowing deeply, addressed the Olvenking of Sunndi: "Your Brilliant Majesty, I have flown here from where the Pawluck pours into the Vast Swamp to bring dire tidings! The bullywug tribes and evil cultists of Wastri that raid into the realm from the swamp are led by none other than the vile demigod himself! Six nights ago, Wastri and his minions massacred an entire crew of workers as they camped around the watchtower they were building. Afterward, rather than retreat back into the swamp as they have in the past, they continued up the east bank of the Pawluck, where they invaded Paw's Luck, slaughtering all of the townsfolk, and burning the town to the ground!"

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