The Southern Campaigns

The Writings of Chalyb Sequitor - Part IX

The taleteller swept his gaze out over his little crowd here at the Wet Step in the village of Lope. Many of the faces were familiar, particularly those closest to him, and the children. He smiled as they jostled and poked to get the best position without actually crossing the invisible line the Old Man had made to prevent them from actually climbing up into his lap. He knew that as the story wound on, the fidgeting would cease, and by the end of the tale, more than a few would be asleep here in the warm safety of their town’s Inn.

Some of the faces were new, travelers or farmers who had only recently heard of the stories he told on the day following Yeotu’s fullness. Many seemed uninterested or bored; he knew this would change as the evening wore on.

It was cold outside, and the farmers had been patient long enough, waiting an entire month for his return and conclusion of the tale of The Company of Steel and their travels across the Sea of Tears. He smiled, knowing that tonight would not find the tales coming to its conclusion, perhaps actually only tasting the beginning of their adventures in Sunta’s waste.

“Well, my friends, I believe a tale is in order. Perhaps you would like to hear of the Mage Thyme of Ume, who led a group from the Tower of the Four alongside the Imperial forces into the lands where the sun shows no face, in an effort to avenge the slaying of his boon companions by the forces of shadow? Or perhaps you would hear of The Knights of Eria and their centuries long struggle to contain a mighty Mithos that sought to claim dominion over the lands and subjugate even his own kind. Or maybe you are interested in the trials of Ana of Shadows, as she traded a mighty artifact for entrance into one of the most secretive magical societies in all the realm? No? Then perhaps I might continue on with the tales of The Company of Steel and their travels in the service of the River Queen, Sata.”

Seeing the smiles and bobbing head of both children and adults, he began:

“When last we spoke, the Company, less Kentaro the Soft-spoken, had just finished slaying a great waste-lizard. As the dwarves set about healing themselves, and Chalyb secured the area, Raphael set to the task of removing one of the great fangs from the giant lizard. Although he appeared to try several times, he returned to the group explaining that only one of the teeth was in useful condition.

They made their camp upwind and went to sleep early. It was near midnight when Raphael heard an odd scuffling sound. Waking the others, they saw that Hyenas and Vultures were fighting over the carcass of the lizard. They maintained watches of two after that, one to watch the beasts in case they sought more lively prey, and one to keep an eye out for other dangers.

Their Guide, The boy Eshe, continued to show them the trail. It was well into the next day when they found tracks of horsemen that came down the trail towards them, and then headed off into the hills. After continuing to examine the tracks for a time, they determined there was actually two groups, a larger one heavily loaded, and a smaller one, moving quickly, but apparently not as used to the desert in this local. After a short debate, they headed off into what Eshe explained to them were ‘The Shattered Hills’.

They moved quickly, and pushed on with little heed for their own comforts. The boy was clearly nervous about entering this place, but after the encounter with the Waste-Dragon he was willing to continue on. It proved to be Chalyb who, although pushing as hard as the others, eventually found himself flagging and in need of rest.

They came upon a used campsite, only two or so days old. There was clear evidence that the smaller groups members had been wounded. Resting briefly, they pushed on in an effort to take advantage of the need for their quarry to walk their horses. After another day of hard travel the saw a light in the darkness, and then in the following morning they came upon a campsite with men and horses upon it.

They approached with caution, and Eshe recognized Anton, the trader for whom the company had been waiting. After some careful back and forth and introductions, sped along by the presence of the boy, the two groups gathered and shared news of their experiences.

It had come to pass that Anton had been beset by bandits a short time ago. His men wounded, they had absconded with his goods and fled into these hills. He was fearful of treading in the ‘Shattered Hills’ for their reputation of dark and evil things that called out for the blood of man in the moonlight. Yet much of his personal worth was tied up in these shipments, and to loose so much would be difficult to overcome. Recognizing that it was beyond their agreed mission, but also that Sata would be at a loss without the goods which had been absconded, the company boldly agreed to track the raiders into the hills and see what could be done.

With Anton and his men remaining at their camp, the Company moved onwards into the hills. The tracks were relatively clear if not fresh, as though their prey recognized that they need not fly so fast along their journey now that they had entered a place of danger to their pursuers.

Twice the company passed tall lean obelisks of a strange blue stone. The pillar radiated magic, and bore odd markings unreadable to the group. At the top of the obelisk was a statue of a strange hound headed thing with six lizard-like legs and wings. Much of it had been damage on both statues, and neither Chalyb nor the Dwarves recognized the style of carving. Although they all had great interest, they pressed onwards in pursuit of the bandits.

That eve, as Chalyb stood guard they were set upon by huge pale wolves. The giant silver wolves seemed to materialize from the shadows and moonlight. They ran silent, a pack of ghosts for all the sound they made. And ghosts they appeared to be as the moonlight hit their silvery fur, it shone in a ghastly luminescence. It was only their howl that alerted the group in time to prevent being taken in their sleep. A long lonely moan full of the lamentation of beings no longer able to slake their mortal hunger for blood and flesh.

They were upon the party in a flash, and the battle was costly. Only the magical weapons of the party made any impact on the fell beasts, and there were over a dozen to contend with. They overran the party in their first attack, and then, as a pack of normal wolves would do, they surrounded their prey and set to distracting and charging in.

“DEMON DOGS!” Chalyb yelled as one leapt for his throat, but he got his hand up in time to prevent the sure death, which would have resulted from such a wound. Instead the fangs on the beast closed upon his arm, and Chalyb felt his very soul being drawn forth from him. As he ripped his arm free of the beast, he felt his soul snap back, but he was drained and weak from the encounter.

So too did Rad fare when one of the beasts tore open his side with another gash. Thus did the party learn that the tales of evil haunting the Shattered Hills was far from a tavern story. Nay, it bore the thick weave of truth.

Yet the Company was not filled with Lackwits or Pansies, and they gave far worse than they got. When the battle was done, though all had been wounded, there were a dozen of the dead things laying about. Raphael and Rad together set about removing the fangs of the beasts, and came away with 11. Meanwhile Chalyb sought to understand why his ancestors had not lent their healing aid to his cause through the Sword of Sequitor. You see he was not well versed in matters of the arcane, and did not understand that only living beings might offer their life as he slew them.

With the coming of the dawn, the party was amazed to watch the corpses of the Fey Wolves disappear as though they had never been. Shaking it off, they regrouped and continued on their journey, albeit more respectful of the dangers the hills might contain.

In such a way they came upon a small valley where no less than a dozen horses were snuffling about, many still wearing the harnesses and gear that their riders had used. Yet none had upon them the goods Anton had been compelled to deliver.

At the other end of the mountain there lay a great portal into the shadows of the very hill itself. A great carved entryway leading into halls carved from the rock. It rose 30 feet overhead, with a width as great as the height, and a pair of the blue stone pillars flanking the entryway. Yet these pillars were whole, and untouched by the wind and the weather, despite years of existence.

The party scouted some and waited, and after a time they determined that no one was immediately about. The bandits having left no sentries, and likely feeling complacent that they were safe in this place of wickedness. Also, they saw that the bandits had not gone further on, and thus drew the conclusion that their prey had gone into the side of the mountain.

Girded for battle, the party entered quickly and with what care they might considering the pair of metal shorn dwarves in tow. They passed down a great dark passageway until the light from the outside was no more. In good time, Chalyb drew forth a great glowing arrow which Ana had actually prepared for him long ago, and in this way was their path lit, though it was only Raphael who needed such illumination. (They had tried leading Raphael in the dark for the maintenance of secrecy, but it quickly proved to be an unsuccessful means of exploring the passage.)

They came upon a great central chamber, with passages to the north and south, two in each wall, and a set of great stone stairs leading down to the west. There was a long trail of blood from one of the passages leading down the stairs into the darkness.

The company entered the passages one by one, beginning with the passage where the blood came from. At the end of the passage was a room in chaos. Blood everywhere and the signs that a battle had occurred, but no evidence of the combatants or who had prevailed. In the room there were four more of the Dog headed statues and one of a great lion-turtle. The other three side passages proved to also contain the statuary, although not the evidence of battle.

The company passed down into the lower halls of this place, and still they were amazed at the quality of the stonemasonry. The stairs ended at a pair of great stone doors, which were shattered and had fallen open. Of note of the doors was a great warding sigil. The seal was made of silver, but broken as the doors had fallen asunder. Passing beyond the doors, the companions came upon a wide room, with a great pool within. Surrounding the pool was six more of the odd statues. Four of the Dog headed winged lizards, and two of the Lion headed turtles. In each direction a passageway led off into the darkness. The bloody trail led to the northern passage.

The dwarves charged forward, following the bloody trail, but Chalyb grabbed them and held them still. Raphael quickly scouted the chamber for fear of traps that would lead to the ignoble doom of the party. Then to the surprise of the dwarves and Raphael, Chalyb led the way south. “First we must ensure that we are able to retreat without finding our way out blocked by enemies.” OH how prophetic and ironic these words would turn out to be.

A large cave in blocked the southern passage, most likely from the recent earthquake, which had broken the earlier doors. Retracing their steps they passed through the eastern passage and came upon another set of great doors, these ones still intact and also warded in silver.

The party readied themselves and headed along the north passage, coming shortly into a great tomb. There was a double stepped dais at the end of the chamber with a great sarcophagus upon it. Along the top of the dais there appeared many objects of worth, obviously grave goods of a kind. Along the lower steps were bundles and crates, which were clearly the goods of Anton.

They headed up to the platform, and Chalyb began to ascend it his sword drawn. A pale flickering figure materialized in the light of four glowing golden urns lining the top of the dais. Ancient, and oddly dressed, it bore a great sword, and Raphael noted he could see right through it. I believe his muttered comment was, “Drek!”

Chalyb hailed the figure, which in turn placed forth its hand in a warding gesture as if to say, “Advance no further, lest ye meet my wrath.” (It was apparently a very expressive gesture.) Chalyb explained that they had come for the goods stolen from their caravan and if the spirit would let them take these and depart, then he would not be harmed, and his tomb left undisturbed.

The spirit pointed towards the door. Chalyb moved to take the goods, but was blocked by the spirit. Raising the Sword of Sequitor, it erupted in fiery glory. “That is unfortunate.” Said Chalyb, even as Raphael readied himself for battle and the dwarves both looked at each other and said, “Stupid Human.”

A great wall of fire erupted in front of Chalyb, and he leapt back to avoid being burned. He was not fast enough, and his eyebrows were burned off his face.

Calling out for a retreat that they might wait out the fire Chalyb turned. The Dwarves, wise as they were heeded the order and ran to the next room. Raphael shouted out about spirit hands attacking him and fired his bow at the air. Fiery arrows leapt through the room, some at the dais, some at the walls. Chalyb grabbed him and attempted to carry him off, but tripped and fell to one knee. Growling at the archer, he convinced Raphael to depart.

In the other room, they regrouped. Some light healing was applied, and Rad made Chalyb resistant to fire. Scorpion head yelled out a battle cry and ran into the tomb chamber and through the firewall. As he burst through the flames, his skin charred by the experience due to his sensitivity to fire, he found… Nothing. The sarcophagus was abandoned. Knowing that his enemy might be invisible, Chalyb began to exercise a series of Kata’s designed to protect the swordsman from invisible stalking foes.

Meanwhile the others had charged back in as well. Rad suggesting in dwarven that Chalyb, “Make up his damn mind!” Suddenly Raphael froze in place. Fortunately Zol was on hand to dispel the binding magical force. Unfortunately he was unaware that Raphael carried potions, which were also undone by his antimagic spell.

Rad made Zol impervious to fire, and the Dwarf charged into the firewall after his leader. Meanwhile with a mighty cry, Chalyb leapt up to the next level of the Dais, unfortunately destroying several priceless porcelain bowls. Not content in his destruction, he leapt up upon the Sarcophagus and with a call to his ancestor’s cleaved open the lid of the stone coffin. It shattered into many pieces. Calling out, Chalyb challenged the spirit, “Show yourself or I will destroy your body!”

This apparently drew forth the ire of the spirit who smote Chalyb down with a pair of mighty strokes from its great sword. Chalyb struck back, but was struck again, and this time the evil magic of the spirit took control of his body from him. He froze into place despite his minds railing to move. The dark spirit stepped back and laughed at the pathetic warrior now at its mercy. (Of which it had little.)

It had not anticipated the arrival of Zol, who smote the spirit a mighty blow with his ancestral war hammer. The spirit turned and the two did battle upon the altar of the spirit’s demise. Raphael leaped through the fire, his daggers drawn and infused with electric power. He sprayed off his aura of lightning to draw the spirits attention from Zol. It worked.

Rad too joined the fight, as Zol was rendered immobile, but the dark spirit smote him such a mighty blow it cast him from the top of the dais slamming him against the wall, where he slid down to the floor and did not rise. Raphael stood his ground, clearly outmatched without a weapon of power to harm this semi material being, when Chalyb reached out and tapped the spirit on it’s shoulder, “Remember me?” The sword of Sequitor blazed in his hand and drove through the specter, eliciting an obvious signs of agony in the long dead apparition.

The specter did not take this lightly and it’s great sword struck again and again at Chalyb driving him down to his knees, long blood gashes in his side and torso. A final blow, and Chalyb fell to the ground, defeated.

But all was not lost! Zol revived from the paralyzing power of the spirit and drew his hammer before him. Calling out to the powers of the might dwarven god of earth and life he drove his hammer down and blasted the specter from the plane of the living.

The party took some time to recover, and then to gather all of the items of value together. As they began to head out into the antechambers, the saw a most disturbing sight. All of the bizarre animal statues from the tops of the pillars had animated and were now prowling around, clearly awaiting the Company to leave the tomb that they might be set upon.

After some experimentation, the Company found that they might only leave safely by returning all of the goods to the dais. And that is precisely what they did.

They left the complex and returned to the horses outside. Taking the rest of the evening to round up the horses, remove their saddles and such, and get them something to graze upon, the company rested and healed itself back into fighting form. The following day, they determined to test these statues and find out if they were a danger to their group, or if they could be destroyed one by one on their pedestals.

They came to the first side chamber, where the bandits had originally been destroyed. Zol attempted to call upon his deity to remove the magical power from the statues. He was unsuccessful in achieving that feat. However he was successful in rousing the statues to life, and the battle was on.

The small dog statues were blazing fast, and fought like malevolent hummingbirds. Darting in to attack, then pulling back, swiftly dodging attacks by buzzing to the right or left. Chalyb took out one, then focused on the giant Lionturtle, while the others engaged the flying ones.

The battle was terrible indeed, the party finding the little ones almost impossible to hit, and as Chalyb cut out great chunks from the Lionturtle, it roared a great and terrible rumbling scream. The waves of sound smashed into the party as a great stone weight. And they felt their life force flow out of them, and they saw the wounds of the Lionturtle sealed themselves and healed.

In the end, Raphael and Zol smote two of the hounds and Chalyb destroyed the last, then together they drove down the Lionturtle. Zol determined that they were still magical and called upon the power to shape the stone to bury them in the floor of the chamber.

Retreating and resting, the party performed more scouting of the tomb, and even attempted to pull open the great sealed doors at the far eastern edge. This was to no avail, and the party feared that they might be forced to defeat all of the statues in order to secure the release of their goods. Yet greed had settled upon them, and they were determined to find a way.

When they rose the following morning, they decided that the best course of action was to report in, and let the merchants determine whether it was worthwhile to pursue this, and what arrangements might be made to effect the eventual release of the grave goods and merchandise. Returning to Anton, they told him the full story, and showed him the Teeth of the Demon Dogs. Anton, was not eager to leave behind his goods, but acceded to the wisdom of regrouping and discussing strategies to approaching the problem.

Gathering themselves and the horses, the entire group returned to Ferun and Kentaro. Along the way, they witnessed a great migration of antelope across the arid plains. Raphael and Chalyb each took down two antelope, and then saw the giants of their kind among the herd. Several of the giants watch over the party’s movements as the herd continued to pass by, with a gargantuan antelope at the end. The enormous being easily stood thirty feet at the shoulder. “Those,” explained Anton, “Are the Antelope Gods.”

The party was almost home, when a great cat of enormous size and power set them upon. The merchant’s guards and drovers scattered, though Anton and Eshe held their ground with Bows drawn. Raphael was the unfortunate subject of the attack and was dragged off his horse and beneath the cat. His lightning aura flared, and smoke came from the burned fur. Chalyb and the others dismounted and engaged the beast, until it’s mate leaped upon Zol from behind.

Bloody and wounded, but victorious, the Company remounted to the shouts and smiles of the merchant and his guards. “I see Eshe’s stories about you are well grounded in the truth.” Said Anton as the finished the journey to town.”

With that the storyteller sat back and smiled at the crowd. “Ah but it grows late my friends, and my cup is empty, so I suppose the rest of our tale will have to wait for my next visit.

FINI