Gentle Readers,
My wife Belinay has finally settled down for the night and I have a little bit of time to write by candlelight. For the last week I wasn’t sure if she was ever going to stop crying. Rarely have I felt so powerless. This despite enduring my fair share of disappointments, setbacks and outright failures.
The troubles all started as we went into the High Holy Days... It was whispered that there was, allegedly, some unspecified doom hanging over Nasha, the Tomal Khan’s wife. Or so ul’Shi Dao was said to have insinuated. I was disturbed enough that I made a gift of my serpentine armband to her. I had recovered the armband from under the First City and knew from firsthand experience that it was enchanted. The “snake” squeezed at the presence of danger and during the Red Frescos incident it probably saved my life.
I thought it a clever, or at least prudent, move to gift it to her. Nasha is not just the Tomal Khan's wife. She's the woman who introduced me to Belinay. I owe her an unfathomable debt of gratitude for that act.
Also during the High Holy Days, the Emerald Society unveiled a new public exhibit at their Collection. The Collection, please notice the capital letter, is the public museum they maintain in the First City. The Tomal Khan and the absolute top of society attended the opening with additional security provided by the Blue Cloaks...and even his elite Blood Guard. That may have left the Barricade to the Unclean Quarter undermanned.
I do not know if the night runners knew this or not, but they chose to attack en mass. What are the night runners? Honestly I do not know for sure. They look a lot like feral elorii with hands and feet that are scaled and clawed. They can race over walls and ceilings as easily as we walk on roads. Clearly they show Ssethric qualities.
The night runners swarmed the defenses and those that weren’t immediately engaged by defenders disappeared into the First City to seize people off the street! Fortunately the Blue Cloaks were swiftly reinforced by everyone in the area who could wield a blade or manipulate the Arcanum. Otherwise things might have turned out much worse. As it was, dozens and dozens of people, and even some stray dogs, were seen being hauled back over the Barricade.
Lesser people would have written off the losses. But a group of hardened veterans about 50 to 60 strong set out on a rescue mission. A few nearby archeologists and Blue Cloak scouts went with them and helped this recovery force navigate the shattered and unmarked streets of the Unclean Zone.
I have no doubt that the guides helped a great deal, but the Recovery Force still encountered and fought additional horrors such as the wolf-like cadaver hounds. Other horrors encountered were not random threats, but actively resisted the pursuit. There were many reports of winged undead Ssethrics. These creatures wielded strange Cants and summoned skeletons. One adventurer called them “Ssethric Valkyries”, while another called them “False Valinor.” A Dark-kin, possibly unstable or at least fevered by the excitement even described them to me as, “my next mount...I’ll ride one and call it Squishy. I swear it!”
The heroes were forced to pursue the night runners through ancient sewers and eventually into an underground chamber. In the following skirmishes the pursuit saw some night runners armed with the weird biomancy of Ssethregore. These weapons included strange flintlock-like weapons that drew on the hosts blood or life force. They also had strange grenades that resembled the sea urchins one finds at low tide. If all that were not enough, the heroes also faced off against Razor Claw and Agamassi Ss’ressen under the leadership of a Ssanu. I presume of course that the Ssanu orchestrated the whole attack.
Most of the civilians were thankfully recovered. But the night did not end there with happy endings and back slapping. There were discoveries and yet more trouble to be dealt with.
The Ssanu’s underground lair was covered with glyphs and murals that told a bizarre story of rebellion in the Ssethric Age. The followers of Wantir, a previously unknown Ssethric deity of death or undeath, apparently seized power from the followers of Yig and Kassegore. They did this under the leadership of Iahkovah who was apparently an avatar of Wantir. His reign appeared to be brief and he was defeated and bound “for all the ages” in a jade sarcophagus. Though there were plenty of grim warnings in the room, there was no sarcophagus. Only a distant hole in the roof and an empty niche where Iahkovah might have been stashed away for a good chunk of eternity.
I’m told one of the archaeologist guides cleared his throat and said something like, “I know it seems improbable…but wasn’t a jade sarcophagus the centerpiece of the new exhibit at the Collection?”
At this point, gentle readers, I’d like you to indulge me as I shift to my own point of view. Belinay, as a favorite niece of the Tomal Khan and his wife Nasha, had just managed to get her hands on two invitations to the Collection. So we were both there with the rich and powerful when Iahkovah emerged from his sarcophagus and unleashed a staggering psychic assault. I’d like to tell you I made a heroic defense, but despite being a Master Sword Sage, I was instantly reduced to the status of thrall. Just like everyone else in the building. From that point on we all just sort of wandered around bumping into things.
The heroes guided the abductees swiftly back across the broken half of the city to safety of the barricade and then charged toward the Collection. But to enter they were first forced to do battle with the Tomal Khan’s elite Blood Guard who, like the rest of us, were enthralled. I am sorry to say almost all of the present members of the guard were cut down as the price paid for our rescuers' entry. Then a ferocious battle took place against Iahkovah and his undead lieutenants. Though outnumbered ten to one, Iahkovah held his ground. He had two great advantages. One: he was somehow able to pass off or ignore the strain of casting, allowing him to saturate the room with his gruesome spells. Two, and far worse: whenever one of his undead lieutenants was felled he reached out and relocated “their soul” into one of the bodies of the enthralled victims. At that point the body of the lieutenant violently burst out and returned to the fight. All in less time than it'd take to thrust a dagger.
That could have been my fate. Or Belinay’s. We shuffled around like everyone else. Now my hand shakes at how close to a random horrible death she came. Aunt Nasha wasn’t so lucky. I saw ... well, I saw her die.
I wouldn’t be writing if the heroes didn’t prevail, though I’m not quite sure how that happened at the end. First two of the lieutenants dropped. Then the remaining combatants. At least four people claim to have struck the killing blow against Iahkovah. But others have said the Ssanu just toppled over. I was shuffling the wrong way at the time and didn’t see it. I suspect all of the strain of casting had to go somewhere. Perhaps somehow at the end he got hit by its backlash. Belinay and I survived, for which I have given profound thanks to higher powers. But Aunt Nasha was not so fortunate. He body, and I fear her soul, provided the energy for one of the monstrous rebirths of Iahkovah’s lieutenants. Belinay has been beside herself with grief. After a week of mourning she is only now coming around. I hear that the Tomal Khan has taken it even worse. If you have time please, I would ask you to spare a prayer for Ys. Despite a brave face in public I do not think he looks well.
Somehow we all have to keep limping forward; I remain your obedient scribe,
Tukufu, Ambassador of Altheria.
_________________ Eric Gorman
AKA Ambassador Tukufu, man of letters, tomb raider and Master Sword Sage . . . and Sir Szymon val'Holryn, Order of the Phoenix Formerly Sir Jaeger val'Holryn. Weilder of the Holy Avenger: Thonanos. Gave his soul to help free King Noen
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