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.