From The Journal Of Eugene Tzen'e Ishkarat
Week II Cont'd, The Windling Kaer
Following the instructions of Tyrannisis, we descended into the windling kaer. It quickly became apparent to the learned members of the group that all was not as Tyrannisis had said it would be. The three levels of the kaer were populated by horror constructs and filled with the long-decayed bodies of windlings.
There are few things more tragic than the death of a windling. To see so many of the free people crushed beneath the iron heel of eternity strained my composure to the limit.
Finally we arrived ('fell' is perhaps a better description) at the bottom of the kaer. More bodies littered the floor, and we slowly made our way to the great lake that separated the mage's tower from the rest of the kaer. On the shore of the lake stood a strange being, which had gathered around itself some of the lost treasures of the kaer. Apparently it was amenable to a limited form of exchange, so we traded for the items of greatest value and proceeded across the lake.
On the far shore we found the entrance to the mage's stronghold. Tyrannisis' letter mentioned a barrier that the windlings had erected to forestall the depredations of any horrors who might have noticed the weakened kaer protections. We did not find any evidence of a barrier. Windling bodies were scattered about like leaves, many of them clutching spears and bows. These people had died as part of a delaying action, and had given their lives in order for others to flee.
Sadly, in the end their sacrifice was for naught. I find it hard to believe that any kaer dweller survived the onslaught of whatever killed these brave defenders. Still, we were here to save the city of Travar, not to mourn the countless victims of the scourge. Life must go on, after all.
The area surrounding the mage's tower was apparently hit the hardest. The dead were beyond counting, and all the buildings in the area showed signs of being assaulted by some impossibly powerful beast. We explored the area fully but found no further signs of the horror, or "Tyrannisis of the Thunder Peaks" as some of us have taken to calling him.
The mage's tower was completely empty, except for locked door built into the ceiling. The door showed signs of heavy assault by a large beast, but it had not been breached. An inscription told us that "only the purest heart touched by the vilest evil" could open the door.
Horrors. Horror marks.
I cannot express my loathing for the creatures which nearly destroyed our world, but the idea of surrendering one of our party to their foul influence was almost too much for me to stomach. Ren refused outright to play into the hands of this mysterious creature, and neither Espagra nor I could weave the necessary raw magic threads to attract the attention of such a beast. It seemed that the best course was just to give up and inform Air Marshal Drimsby of our failure.
Then Kathleen volunteered. My heart sank. To see such beauty condemned to the inexorable corruption of a horror mark was a high price to pay, even for the salvation of a city. Still, she was determined to do it, and it was my duty to lend her my strength that she might accomplish the task. Finally, she wove the thread and even those of us without the gift of astral sight could feel the surge of pure evil that sought her out. It was a darkness devoid of light, a silence that consumed all sound, a crashing wave of despair. All these things and more filled me to the brim with a quiet, enduring terror.
The sensation awakened memories long held beneath the surface of my consciousness. Before my very eyes I could see my mother falling victim to the same force. I remembered with crystal clarity the weeks lived between the overseer's whip and my mother's steadily worsening temper. The floggings on deck were followed by beatings in the cabin. I could not fight against either. The overseer would have me killed, and my mother... well... she was still my mother.
Now that nightmare was beginning again. When Kathleen looked up at me, I could see the kernel of evil in her eyes. Soon it would sprout, and its foul tendrils would take control of the young woman I had grown to care for these past weeks.
We retrieved the book and made for the surface. Already Kathleen's temper took on a new edge. She cursed at me, and even raised her voice in my presence. I knew where this was going, but I hoped that I was wrong.
Naked Before The Coming Scourge
-Eugene Jerome Tzen'e Ishkarat
Following the instructions of Tyrannisis, we descended into the windling kaer. It quickly became apparent to the learned members of the group that all was not as Tyrannisis had said it would be. The three levels of the kaer were populated by horror constructs and filled with the long-decayed bodies of windlings.
There are few things more tragic than the death of a windling. To see so many of the free people crushed beneath the iron heel of eternity strained my composure to the limit.
Finally we arrived ('fell' is perhaps a better description) at the bottom of the kaer. More bodies littered the floor, and we slowly made our way to the great lake that separated the mage's tower from the rest of the kaer. On the shore of the lake stood a strange being, which had gathered around itself some of the lost treasures of the kaer. Apparently it was amenable to a limited form of exchange, so we traded for the items of greatest value and proceeded across the lake.
On the far shore we found the entrance to the mage's stronghold. Tyrannisis' letter mentioned a barrier that the windlings had erected to forestall the depredations of any horrors who might have noticed the weakened kaer protections. We did not find any evidence of a barrier. Windling bodies were scattered about like leaves, many of them clutching spears and bows. These people had died as part of a delaying action, and had given their lives in order for others to flee.
Sadly, in the end their sacrifice was for naught. I find it hard to believe that any kaer dweller survived the onslaught of whatever killed these brave defenders. Still, we were here to save the city of Travar, not to mourn the countless victims of the scourge. Life must go on, after all.
The area surrounding the mage's tower was apparently hit the hardest. The dead were beyond counting, and all the buildings in the area showed signs of being assaulted by some impossibly powerful beast. We explored the area fully but found no further signs of the horror, or "Tyrannisis of the Thunder Peaks" as some of us have taken to calling him.
The mage's tower was completely empty, except for locked door built into the ceiling. The door showed signs of heavy assault by a large beast, but it had not been breached. An inscription told us that "only the purest heart touched by the vilest evil" could open the door.
Horrors. Horror marks.
I cannot express my loathing for the creatures which nearly destroyed our world, but the idea of surrendering one of our party to their foul influence was almost too much for me to stomach. Ren refused outright to play into the hands of this mysterious creature, and neither Espagra nor I could weave the necessary raw magic threads to attract the attention of such a beast. It seemed that the best course was just to give up and inform Air Marshal Drimsby of our failure.
Then Kathleen volunteered. My heart sank. To see such beauty condemned to the inexorable corruption of a horror mark was a high price to pay, even for the salvation of a city. Still, she was determined to do it, and it was my duty to lend her my strength that she might accomplish the task. Finally, she wove the thread and even those of us without the gift of astral sight could feel the surge of pure evil that sought her out. It was a darkness devoid of light, a silence that consumed all sound, a crashing wave of despair. All these things and more filled me to the brim with a quiet, enduring terror.
The sensation awakened memories long held beneath the surface of my consciousness. Before my very eyes I could see my mother falling victim to the same force. I remembered with crystal clarity the weeks lived between the overseer's whip and my mother's steadily worsening temper. The floggings on deck were followed by beatings in the cabin. I could not fight against either. The overseer would have me killed, and my mother... well... she was still my mother.
Now that nightmare was beginning again. When Kathleen looked up at me, I could see the kernel of evil in her eyes. Soon it would sprout, and its foul tendrils would take control of the young woman I had grown to care for these past weeks.
We retrieved the book and made for the surface. Already Kathleen's temper took on a new edge. She cursed at me, and even raised her voice in my presence. I knew where this was going, but I hoped that I was wrong.
Naked Before The Coming Scourge
-Eugene Jerome Tzen'e Ishkarat