The StormWatch Chronicles
As seen through the eyes of Drano Battlehammer
Part 10
Update: 05/05/1998 to drano
October 20, 596
Greetings, friends. I apologize for the lack of correspondence from this old
dwarf. Perhaps an explanation
is in order. . . .
Approximately a month ago, on a cool, breezy evening, I arrived in a city in
the land of Volta. StormWatch
had volunteered its services to a Sarr princess named Shusthar Asmara. We were
to escort her to the Voltan
city where she would be involved in a diplomatic mission. Something about lending
her peoples support in
an upcoming war. It is my understanding that Cynesra was actually the one asked
to go, but she wouldn't
without the rest of the group in tow.
The princess was a charismatic, though slightly frightening, individual. She
had brilliant orange fur,
streaked with stripes as black as night. One eye had been torn or gouged out
in some fracas, and the rest of
her showed signs of battle scars the like of which I haven't seen since my days
at the rack. She never
showed her claws, but I'm sure they were as deadly as her gaze, which could
make the strongest of men's
knees buckle.
Several other Sarr, one of whom I got to know briefly, also accompanied the
Princess. His name was
Trellan, and he was a mighty warrior/rogue in the service of the Princess. With
his two-handed sword and
skill in battle, he was a mighty bodyguard, indeed.
By torchlight, we accompanied them to a meeting, always on guard for attacks
by brigands or assassination
attempts. I don't know if it was our numbers, reputation, or the Princess' imposing
visage that kept danger
at bay, but whatever it was, it got us to Volta unaccosted.
I got to see the Duke of Volta, in all his nobility, greet the assembled peoples
and explain to them that he
would go to war with a neighboring Duchy, as they had kidnapped/murdered his
two sons.
Suddenly, a mystical gate came into existence behind him, and an undead form
emerged, stating we would
all die. Now it seems to me that there must be more interesting places for greater
beings to conquer than
Ravenholt and Volta. But lo and behold, here was another evil entity, threatening
all within earshot that his
minions would either kill us all or make us slaves to his cause. After the whole
Nikijo thing, I was not in
the mood to be discussing my future at sword-point.
Well, as sure as you can be of summer coming after spring, the evil one's minions
poured forth from the
gate and engaged us in battle. We proved strong, though and took the fight to
them. After a brief, but
violent, skirmish, we discovered a tunnel leading into the depths of the earth.
Many heroes piled into the
tunnel, thinking to track the hellish undead to their lair, but came up short
as the tunnel had collapsed only
a few hundred feet from the entrance.
I was standing in the throng, discussing things with Koryon, when I heard my
name shouted from up ahead.
"Drano," someone said, "Where's Drano? Get him up here!"
I pushed my way through the gathered heroes,
feeling their eyes upon me, and I wondered who could possibly need the services
of a healer of my slight
ability. [Cynesra's Note: Drano, as promised . . . *twack*!] When I came to
the front line (a place I avoid
as often as possible) I discovered that what they needed was not a healer at
all, but a dwarf. The Baroness
Ganth, perhaps uttering my name for the first time, asked, "Drano, what
do you make of this tunnel? Can
we get through?"
I carefully surveyed the situation. I was no miner, but having lived in mountain
tunnels all my life made me
generally knowledgeable of such things. I peered at the tons of rubble and scoured
the edges of the tunnel.
It seemed a simple matter, really. We were only about six to ten feet below
the surface; why not just dig a
hole on the other side of the blockage - from the top down? That would eliminate
the risk of collapsing the
tunnel upon some hapless person and would probably be faster than removing all
the rubble and carting it
away. I gave my assessment to the Baroness and her Squire, then turned in for
the evening. There would be
a lot of work to do later.
The next day was cloudy and cool. Gray clouds formed a seamless barrier between
the earth and sky. I
woke to find a gift from a Sarr named Tristemere. She seems fond of Cynesra
and appears to take a liking
to other members of the team. She couldn't be with us, so she sent a variety
of items she had accumulated
over the years for us to use in her absence. I found a magic shield and amulet
of "life and death" among
those left for me, as well as a note that read: "These are for you. Don't
ask - just enjoy them." I hardly
know Tristemere, except through reputation, and I wonder why she should show
such kindness to a
stranger. I tend to think there is something in it for her, if only because
the only generous souls I've met
outside the mountains are Tempus and Gabriel. Most other folk generally want
something for their gifts, no
matter how small, and these were no small gifts! I don't know the race of Sarr
to be particularly generous,
either . . . so we shall see what these gifts will cost. . . .
We took the afternoon to make a trip to a nearby town. If I remember correctly,
a few months ago, I
traveled with some others to visit the Oracle. There, I found that Koryon's
daughter would be in the
vicinity of this town at about this time. We walked the packed-earth road until
we came upon a small
building. Outside the building was Northstar. He was looking mighty pale, I
can tell you, but the twinkle in
his eye belied his condition. Death had not yet come for him, and he was here,
he said, to aid Koryon and
get his daughter back to him. He told us that the girl was inside this house,
but there were guards, and we
were expected. "Expected?" raged Koryon. "Well I hope they are
expecting this!" A wave of his sword was
all that we needed to see his intentions.
We prepared to fight for his daughter, and stormed through the door of the
dwelling with the speed of an
arrow. We barreled down a short hall into a room that smelled of burning candles,
roast pheasant, and . . .
something else. . . . There, in a magic circle, sat Ivory, Koryon's daughter,
playing ball with a guard. At a
long dining table, laden with all manners of delicacies and the roast pheasant,
sat a man. Nay, he was more
than a man; he emitted power, charisma, and . . . something else. . . . He spoke
then, welcoming us and
offering to "deal." After much discussion, (and drooling over the
victuals!) Koryon bargained for his
daughter. The deal was that she would be set free if we would fight a vampire
that plagued this slaver. We
gathered the reunited family, and took our leave, somewhat thankful that we
didn't have to fight our way to
freedom. The reunion was a happy one, and for perhaps the first time in his
life, Koryon seemed happy --
except for some bizarre reference to a missing glove. First a daughter, then
a glove! We'll have to teach
him to put his name on his things. . . .
By this time, darkness had strolled over the hills, wending its way about the
Voltan town. Koryon and
Northstar went off together to drink "farewell" to Northstar, for
it was only a matter of time before Death
would come for him. You see, Death is apparently a position in the grand scheme
of things, and someone
or something has to fill it in order for it to take place. If there is no one
on the "seat" of Death, then no one
can die, but they can't slip peacefully from this realm either. For example,
if someone's friend died and was
buried, after a short while the soul would return to the body, even if that
body were buried by loved ones.
As one might guess, this could cause some discomfort for the "deceased."
Also, let's say a criminal might
commit so heinous a crime as to deserve the death penalty, he might think himself
tortured to death, only to
find himself still suspended from the torturer's rack, in more pain than a body
might otherwise be subjected
to.
For some time now, the position of Death has been vacant, and Northstar, though
clinically dead, must
continue to walk the earth without peace until such a time as that "seat"
is filled again.
A small group of us headed out to the field, as the Barony of Westmarch required
our cabin space for a
ritual. We had heard rumors of undead walking the field, so decided to do the
town a service and remove
some of them. Unfortunately, the battle we were about to begin would be, quite
simply, disastrous.
Gabriel, Tempus, the Sarr named Trellan, and I roamed about the area for a
while, seeking out the path of a
Specter. Quite honestly, I don't know how we expected to find it - more likely,
we would wander until it
found us! We didn't expect a great fight, just a little exercise. Gabriel was
the mighty warrior, Tempus and
Trellan were two accomplished rogues, and I was the healer. A decent unit, though
not the most powerful
for its size. We were following a path in the near-dark, muttering about the
chill, when it saw us. It came
over the rise in the hill, floating on air toward us. Extending wickedly sharp
claws, it snarled its hatred of
us. We quickly backed down the hill t o a more level area, and prepared to fight.
Little did we know, the
fight would be so perilous.
It came at us then, in a flurry of motion, clawing at whatever flesh was in
reach. Gabriel brought his sword
and shield to bear and began trading blows with it while I backed him up. Tempus
and Trellan, meanwhile,
struck out to either side, in an attempt to surround the creature. It cast a
baleful glance their way, then
turned the burning embers of its eyes to the task at hand. Namely, removing
the life from all of us, Gabriel
first. The elf and specter came together in a whirling cloud of claws and steel.
Wisps of nether-substance
floated away as Gabriel's own blood spattered my face.
I threw my spells over Gabriel's shoulder at the specter -- the healing powers
of the earth have very
different effects on the forms of undead creatures. It managed to become insubstantial,
though and much of
what I cast went right through it. Meanwhile, though the blows of Gabriel and
the two rogues were
weakening it, the specter's attacks were causing a horrible side effect. Gabriel
began to show signs of
sickness; a nausea that impaired his fighting. After another flurry of blows,
the creature turned its attention
from Gabriel, who knelt vomiting in the grass, to the rest of us.
Trellan and I stood against it, nervous, but undaunted, while Tempus tried
sneaking around for a sneak-
attack. It was either kill or be killed. I launched another barrage of spells
at its insubstantial form and much
to my delight, they took effect. Apparently, it had weakened quite a bit! Trellan
raised his two-handed
sword against the creature's onslaught, but the rapid blows of the undead monster
drove him to the ground.
It turned on Tempus, hunger and victory in its eyes as it dropped him, too.
Just as it turned its horrific
visage upon me, it was assaulted by other heroes from the town who had heard
the battle and come to our
aid. I quickly bent to the task of healing Gabriel and Tempus, then turned to
Trellan; his wounds were the
worst -- so bad, in fact, that he was in fact, dying. He had perhaps a moment
or two to live, so I brought out
the magical amulet Tristemere had given me. By its powers, I was able to save
the life of Trellan the Sarr,
and earn his respect. The next day, he gifted me with a talisman of healing
that he bade me keep always, in
return for my healing. I've never seen someone so thankful for being alive --
it gave me all new respect for
the race of Sarr.
The next day, I was sipping some hot tea, when I noticed a presence at the
door. It was Baron Derek
Northridge, come to enter the cabin. We had a spell of warding upon the door,
so I offered to open it for
him with the key. He turned to me, eyed me with trepidation, and said, "AAAHHHH!
No thank you,
Drano! I have a squire for such things! He will open the door for me!"
I asked, "Are you sure?"
"AAAAHHHH!!! Yes I am! Thank you, but no - I will wait," he said.
After a short time, Chastity came to the door and asked to be let in. I approached,
unlocked the ward, and
let her inside, offering entrance, once again, to the disgruntled Baron.
He slowly shook his head and repeated, "AAAAHHHH! No THANK you, Drano.
I have a squire for this,
who would not let me stand out here, in the cold, much LONGER!"
Sure enough, a bedraggled-looking squire, hastily dressed in the colors of
the Court of Westmarch, came
bustling to the door. With a grand bow and flourish, he finally proffered the
key and admitted the Baron.
Having seen everything, I turned and spoke with Chastity.
"It is time," she said sweetly, "for you to learn the final
and greatest earth spell of all -- the spell of Life!" I
had to meet her, the next day, to go to a "unicorn pool" -- a place
of magic, where she would teach me the
spell of Life. She said it was a nice place, this pool, and it would be very
relaxing. The hot, bubbly water
was therapeutic and relaxed the body so that the necessary concentration, for
this most difficult of all spells,
could be attained. I looked forward to the trip, though I knew that I would
soon have to go back to the
Mountain, and show what I had learned.
. . . . but that is another tale.