Arc will have Order. Chaos must be eliminated. Only through Order will there ever be peace in the lands of Lost Souls. Chaos will be crushed through whatever means possible.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

An Unlikely Companion

I have met any number of strange creatures while performing various tasks for Ahrikol. Most recently, he asked me to explore a new glade which had appeared seemingly overnight near Losthaven. As I entered, I found it to be infested with spiders. Normally, this would have caused me little concern, but as I explored, the spiders seemed to get larger and more ferocious. I found an opening in the center of the glade that led to some caves; it was from here that the spiders seemed to be emanating. As I was proceeding, I suddenly found myself face-to-face with a figure in a suit remarkably similar to my own. Thinking that perhaps this was another ambush by a minion of chaos (they have been frequent of late), I prepared myself for battle. I focused all my concentration into one of the runes on my ring, and started a process that I have come to learn shoots bolts of highly charged energy at my opponents. A pity those orcs had to die in the experiments, they were fiercely loyal. As I raised my hand, the figure blithely removed his helm, and greeted me as a friend. I lowered my hand (little did he know how close he came to injury) and did him the same courtesy. "I am Beasty," he exclaimed, and an odd beast he surely was.

Beasty looked for all the world like an elf, but an elf aflame, and with an amazing set of wings that the suit of armour had previously hidden. This must be a phaethon, a creature I had presumed to be myth. He was armed with an equally amazing weapon - some kind of dagger that glowed and spit energies similar to my own. Fascinated, I wanted to ask him about the blade (I thought I could perhaps make use of it in my search for more advanced offensive magick), but he appeared... lost... as if a part of him had been ripped away. I soon learned that he was one of the legendary Rangers, and that his familiar, a great drake, had been grievously wounded in battle. After further conversation, and sensing only a moderate amount of chaos in Beasty, I decided to offer my help while the drake recovered. Law demands honor, after all, and I was curious to see how a creature of flame would fight.

Speaking of flame, I have recently been rewarded for my efforts on the behalf of Lord Ahrikol with a sword composed of solidified fire; a blade which I can summon at will. This has proven exceedingly useful in these web-laden spider pits. Additionally, I have taken on some peculiar physical traits: my hair and skin are slowly changing color toward the darker end of their normal range, and I have almost no appetite. I am growing concerned that, despite my precautions, my experiments in magick are having unforeseen side effects. I can only hope that Ahrikol will forgive my carelessness and restore me to health, for such is his power.

Gathering ourselves, Beasty and I headed into the corridors of limestone and spider silk. Almost at once, we encountered a particularly huge and grotesque arachnid; it smelled, almost as if it were rotting from the inside. We dispatched it quickly however, and I started to gain some respect for my new companion's prowess in combat. What followed was a seemingly endless stream of spiders of various sizes and types: ice spiders, electrically-charged spiders (as unlikely as *that* sounds), and gigantic spiders of every color. All fell before our blades and my magicks until, rounding a corner, we ran straight into a horde of the beasts, led by a pair of rachnei. These vile creatures I have encountered before, and I have learned to both fear them for their size and vicious temper, and despise them as heartless killers. As we fought the creatures, we were pushed back, back. My spirit was almost exhausted from the previous fighting, and this huge group had caught us unprepared. Beasty cried, "This is the band that hurt poor Bill," (for Bill is what he named his drake; an exceedingly odd name for a giant female lizard). As if the name alone was the key to some obscure magick, Bill herself appeared in a cloud of vapor! With a mighty roar, Bill threw herself into the fight beside us. Beasty appeared to take great courage from the drake's recovery, and threw himself into the fight with a wild yell, flaming fists striking enemies in rapid succession, and his glowing dagger plunging deep into the spiders. This courageous flurry allowed me a moment to recover, and I sent blasts of eskaris and fire toward the rachnei leaders. Still, we were sorely pressed, and even Bill started taking further damage. I steeled myself, and shuddered as I threw out my one remaining magick... necromancy.

Yes. I have secretly been studying these forbidden arts. Well, I say secretly with irony, for no one else in Yevath seems to care what I read or where my experiments lead. Indeed, I almost feel as if some unseen force is encouraging me down these dark paths. But that cannot be true. All I know of Order reinforces my belief that Order defines "good", and Ahrikol is indeed a great force for Order in every respect. As such, his great magicks would never allow true evil to reside within Yevath.

My stomach turned as I spoke the one word of necromancy I had commited to memory. Even before it passed my lips, a dark writhing stream of anti-life burst from my ring and in an instant consumed one of the rachnei. I grew sick at the results, and Beasty exclaimed in horror. Still, we had to fight or die. Bolt after bolt of darkness stole the life from the horde, each bolt coming slightly easier than the last. Beasty and Bill fought heroically, and at last the spiders were defeated. Panting in both exhaustion and revulsion at what I had done, I looked up to congratulate Beasty on his revenge. But the phaethon backed away in disgust, Bill snarling at his side. Lowering my head, I spun and strode away into the darkness.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Interrupted studies

My studies of runic magic are continuing at a terrific pace. I have now grasped the basics of the familiar pyromancy as well as a new (to me) and somewhat mysterious art, that of "eskarimancy". Eskaric magic seems to elicit rather odd energies which eat away at anything living. I have taken special care to ensure my safety in these experiments, though Lord Ahrikol insists that I am somehow protected. I have also encountered, during my frequent searches through the archives of Yevath, a large section on the illegal arts of necromancy. This disturbs me somewhat, for two reasons: first, that such foul information is allowed to persist in such an open manner, and second, that I am somehow drawn back to it again and again. I have not ventured to open any of the books, but I cannot seem to resist their siren call. More and more frequently, I find myself standing in the middle of this section without realizing how I got there. Ahrikol assures me that the books are safe, and that he keeps them only for souveniers of a darker time. Still. The books are not dusty.

On another note, Ahrikol summoned me into his chamber and assigned to me a mission. I am to undertake various quests, and in return will gain more runes and more power with which to enforce Order. His first task seemed trivial: travel to the Northlands and seek out an ancient dragon named At'lordrith. This dragon was to test my intellect with a number of riddles and then send me on to another task. After making my way to the dragon's cave (no small feat, since it is situated high on a cliff wall; I was forced to take to the trees to reach it), I faced the dragon, expecting the worst. I had prepared a number of potions and leximantic charms to ward flame attacks and such, but the dragon seemed preoccupied and did not attack. Instead it peppered me with riddles, a quite tiresome bunch of old posers, most of which I had encountered before. Quickly growing bored, I asked the dragon to get to the point of my quest. Startled into actual action, it mumbled some idiotic instructions and gave me some scales from it's hide. I left there shaking my head; how could such an ancient and supposedly wise creature be so apathetic? Perhaps it is secretly chaotic and seeks to confuse my overall mission? Vowing not to be detered, I completed At'lordrith's tasks and reported back to Ahrikol. He rewarded me with a rune that improves my night vision. Now certainly this ability will be helpful to me in our fight against disorder, still I found myself longing for a more "direct" application of power. When I brought this request to Ahrikol, he chuckled and told me to expect many changes in the near future, changes which would more than prepare me to take our battle to the enemy. When I pressed him further, he grew impatient and I suddenly found myself standing naked in the middle of the desert. I see that it is not wise to tax my teacher, and will not do so in the future.