Greyhawk: Against the Giants: Huecuva's Blight

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 18:19:00

The lead dwarf raises an eyebrow at GHORENFORE's threat.
"Threats are strange words from someone who just called us friends a moment ago. I would suggest that you speak wisely."
The dwarf lifts her axe to her face and kisses the head. Dried blood is prevalent on the axehead.
"Our axes have had their appetites wetted by giants."

A proud, satisfied snarl emanantes from the three dwarves still in the shadows, out of GHORENFORE's sight.

The lead dwarf sighs deeply, exhaling breath and frustration. Her tone is more cordial now; she drew her line in the sand.
"To answer your question, our business here is simple. We trade with those who have something trade, kill those who get in our way, and receive payment from those who hire us. Currently, we are unemployed. Seeing as your warm reception was anything but, I'm sure there is nothing lucrative here, either. So, unless we plan on continuing our witty banter or spilling blood on the forest floor, we will take our leave."

******

PA'CHEEN leans toward MARTIN; they have both heard the entire conversation. MARTIN hears the Lupinal's voice in his head.
Please, I've seen tougher things come out of a tanar'ri's arse!

HLIN looks at GHORENFORE in distain and says in dwaven to dwarves " I wish I could help you but it doesn't look like GHORENFORE want to help. But may MORADIN lead the way for you."


HLIN thinks Only if we back in my home....... He would be eatting those words

Ghorenfore raises an eyebrow at Hlin's look and chuckles as she speaks in dwarven to the dwarves. A hand slides down Brakus's neck. Ghorenfore only feels reassured in his actions, PACHEEN was right, this wasn't the help they needed. He had hoped things would have been different with these dwarves but they werent, and the bottom line was they more important things to do then deal with evil dwarves.
Ghorenfore speaks in Dawrven to the dwarves
"My apologies, I initially thought you were something you apparently are not. I do not think we believe in the same things, and although i can share in your hatred of the giants and even be glad you put them down, I do not think our beliefs are compatible enough to share ale over."
Ghorenfore nods his head and smiles
"be on your way then, and as Hlin has said; may Moradin be with you!"

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 18:20:36

The lead dwarf bows deeply. The two dwarves accompanying her give slight nods. The lead dwarf turns to leave.

She lets out a jovial laugh,
"Like a human would know what ale really is!"

The three dwarves walk back into the shadows. HLIN and LOWLYN watch them rendezvous with the other squad of three dwarves. The entire squad then heads south, giving the party's camp a wide berth. HLIN watches them until they leave her sight.

When GHORENFORE, HLIN, and LOWLYN return to the camp, PA'CHEEN says
"All right, now, we can get back to the important work. What is our plan for NERRAUNE's domicile. We have a good layout of the camp near his cave entrance and we know the numbers on watch. NERRAUNE is no doubt aware that he has intruders in his sphere of control, so he will want to find us. We need to act fast before we are discovered."

Ghorenfore slides off of his horse with care and listens to PA'CHEEN. His mind turns for a moment and he strokes his chin in deep thought. The Dwarves were still bothering him but for a different reason now than before. If by some chance they ran across NERRAUNE their position could very easily become comprised. Either by accident or on purpose, and that could make finding them all that much easier for NERRAUNE. It wasn't completely a far thought that the dwarves could use their camp as a bargaining chip or something worse, and if they ran across NERRAUNE and became unfortunate casualties of NERRAUNE's forces, in which case the same thing would result.

"PA'CHEEN..." Ghorenfore walked over to him slowly and raised an eyebrow "...do you think those Dwarves would sell our position out? either by accident or on purpose?" Ghorenfore spoke his thoughts outloud, he was hoping that PA’CHEEN might provide a logical argument against him. “If NERRUANE begins sending out more forces looking for us, it’s not a far thought to think those forces may indeed run across the Dwarves. What do you think the likelihood is that they would sell us out to save their own skin? The other possibility being if their captured or killed and the result being the same?”

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 18:21:48

PA'CHEEN shrugs nonchatlantly
"I'd say the odds of NERRAUNE getting information from the dwarves is very good, if they were to meet. Although, even I have to admit, it would probably be over the dwarves' undead bodies. I hardly think that even evil dwarves could stomach the undead. If they are caught and turned into another segment of NERRAUNE's armada, then our base is compromised. You should also take some solace in the fact that the dwarves do not know our business here."

PA'CHEEN raises an eyebrow and adds,
"Why were you thinking of making them our prisoners until this business is concluded? I'm not certain how the treants would feel about guard duty."

LOWLYN curses
"We should have warned them about NERRAUNE!"

PA'CHEEN
"GHORENFORE, we can still track them down. They cannot be that far south."

LOWLYN eyes search through the flames of the fire, finding a solution.
"There is another way: We stay on the move. Starting tomorrow, after our next reconnaissance mission, we can pack up our gear and move several hours to the north and set up a new base camp. Stay mobile, perhaps stay hidden."

PA'CHEEN turns to LOWLYN
"Who says we are doing another reconnaissance mission. I say we go back to NERRAUNE's grove and hit them . . . hard. They'll be so busy recuperating from a decisive strike they may not have the resources to look for us and protect NERRAUNE."

LOWLYN
"PA'CHEEN, I'm not certain we have enough information to conduct a successful strike."

PA'CHEEN grins, viciously.
"Perhaps not, but we have the ability to door right into their camp and keep those berks on the surface from escaping into their little hole. Wipe out the surface patrol and then give 'em the laugh, leaving a few scouts to keep an eye on their response and report back."

Ghorenfore shakes his head “No, we don’t have the time to go chasing down a clan of evil dwarves, and I have no intention of making our new friends do a guard patrol.” Pausing for a moment he looks over to Lowlyn and back to Pa’cheen.
“However, Why not do both?” he says thoughtfully
“Pa’cheen can lead his strike team, leave a few scouts and after they come back we move.”
Ghorenfore raises an eyebrow
“Kind of a strike and move tactic...”

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 18:23:42

PA'CHEEN raises a questioning eyebrow.
"Understand, GHORENFORE this is not just some small strike team. The multi-pronged assault that is in my head involves all of us working in concert. It would involve three groups.
"First, we have MARTIN and LOWLYN move into an offensive archery position, near where we came from before. They would be the first to launch a range attack.
"Once the camp begins to mobilize to meet the threat, HLIN and I door into the center of camp and begin our assault.
"Once we engage, LUSULA doors in with FENNIGAN and MARILYN near the entrance to the cave. LUSULA will support FENNIGAN and MARILYN as they support us with magic and turning. LUSULA would focus on keeping messengers from getting into the caves.
"At this point, you can move in from the east on BRAKUS with MARTIN and LOWLYN coming in closer to engage. Support us with another turning and we can mop up the remainders.
"Once the surface is clear, we would door to the eastern edge of the camp. Three of us will stay behind for reconnaissance. I'm thinking MARTIN, LOWLYN, and I will stay behind. We get some information and then move back to the camp. I think our reconnaissance should not last longer than an hour."

LOWLYN speaks up.
"We all assemble here at base camp and start packing to move the base."

PA'CHEEN nods.

MARILYN raises her hand.
"I want it known that if we are going to continue to move to a new camp every evening, I will no longer be casting glyphs to protect the camps. That is a waste of resources. However, PA'CHEEN's plan is bold. It might catch NERRAUNE off guard."

LOWLYN
"When should we plan this attack?"

PA'CHEEN
"We should be at NERRAUNE's lair an hour before sunset to spring our attack."

FENNIGAN looks up from the campfire. His face is frozen in a grimace.
"There is a terrible unknown PA'CHEEN. We have no idea what type of magical protections surround that camp. You could door right into a glyph, spike growth, or worse. All things being equal, PA'CHEEN's assault plan has a strong chance of success, but things are never equal. I agree with what LOWLYN said before, we need more information."

LUSULA
"FENNIGAN, we can support PA'CHEEN and HLIN with divinations to look for spell traps."

FENNIGAN shakes his head.
"But we are engaged by then. It may be too late."

MARILYN raises her eyebrow.
"Well, we need a definite plan of action for tomorrow evening."
She looks at MARTIN or HLIN for ideas. She then turns to GHORENFORE.
"Lieutenant, what are your final orders?"

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 18:26:42

FENNIGAN slaps his hands to his knees and stands up. His vibrant eyes dance as the gears turn in his mind.
"PA'CHEEN, you and I have the ability to fly. I have the ability turn us both invisible. So we could fly over the enemy camp and take note of positions and magical emanations, if there are any. We move our entire strike team to just within assault distance and then the two of us can scout ahead and report back our findings. With the new information collected, we could decide right there whether to go ahead with the assault or abort."

PA'CHEEN snaps his fingers and then shakes them vigorously at FENNIGAN. A smile forms across PA'CHEEN's large muzzle.
"I like it! I like it! Although, I believe that MARTIN and LOWLYN should move into position as well, for support. Should anything unthinkable happen they would be able to back us up and call in support to help extract us from a bad situation."

FENNIGAN and LOWLYN nod in agreement.

MARILYN turns from GHORENFORE, a half smile pierces her lips.
"I think we have a plan. Just remember to get sleep during the day. We all need to be well rested for the fight."

LUSULA places her hand gently on PA'CHEEN's shoulder.
"Are you sure this is the right course of action. I'm not certain if TA'HEED would--"

PA'CHEEN turns around, grabbing LUSULA's hand. His eyes have a combative glow at the mention of TA'HEED, but they soften quickly.
"TA'HEED's not here, LUSULA. He did not make his choice by accident or idly. He knows I can do this, and he wants me to do it my way. We shall meet this challenge, together."

LOWLYN steps up next to the Lupinals. His eyes filled with determination.
"All of us."

PA'CHEEN smiles, his canines gleaming in the firelight.
"Indeed."

*****
DM NOTE:
Please note that as this evening passes, one day of food rations will be used up as MARILYN is not making food. So reduce the quanity of your rations on your sheets. I noticed GHORENFORE has food rations in his equipment list, but he does not have the amount of days listed. I'm assuming that he only has one day of rations and he did not think to resupply at the fort. I also did not see food supplies (grain) for BRAKUS. It's winter, grass is scarce.

HLIN looks at MARILYN says "What ever helps us with kicking NERRAUNE ass out of this forest and to get back to the main mission of getting rid of the damn giants."

" But I have no other ideas to help, We need to make a fast and hard hitting assault to NERRAUNE and his undead things that are there " HLIN says

As she conutines "I here to help in caves and defense of an assault."

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:00:00

Several hours have passed. A heavy chill hangs in the air around the camp. Frost forms in the fallen leaves across the forest floor. Heavy clouds still roam the sky, blocking all light except for your faithful campfires. The darkness and the silence give the impression that your world has grown small and nothing exists outside of the camp.

A far distance, to the east, a light flashes.

A few seconds later another light flashes from the east. Moments later a series of sickly, green lights pulse deep in the forest. The lights appear to be too far away to affect the camp, but their silent flashes are still disturbing.

Then a single, pale green pillar of light emanates from deep in the forest. The green pillar pierces into the sky, puncturing the cloud bank. The green light infects the clouds with its glow; the light spreads through nearby clouds like the tentacles of some ephemeral beast.

There is still not a sound.

"Well I haven't seen that happen and it is weird and very freaking weird to see it happen at this time of night " HLIN says bluntly


"What kind of spell does that? FENNIGAN, LUSULA I think the they're up to something and it isn't good."
HLIN says "I fucking hate this stuff when there is undead things and magic together!!"

MARTIN says "I have a bad feeling that's NERRAUNE starting to feed."

Ghorenfore looks into the distance his eyes futilely attempting to pierce the darkness.
A deep breath escapes his lips as he strokes his chin, the other hand on the hilt of his sword, his breath clearly visible by the bite in the air.
"Fennigan...." he says as he turns and walks towards his old friend "...Can you get some distance off the ground, maybe get an eagles eye view? Give me a report of what you see, if anything. I'm looking for conformation it is him, and anything else you may be able to see, possibly distance to the target site, and number of enemies."
Ghorenfore looks at the campfire and then to the stars attempting to gauge the time of night it is and makes a mental note.
He speaks softly more to himself
"I wonder if you feed at the same time every night?"
His eyes come back around to Lowlyn
"If it is him, and we have the time, How soon can your scout team be ready for a quick undercover recon mission?"

(Player to DM: My notes have 5 days worth written down, I took off 2 days worth, one for me and one for Brakus)

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:02:00

GHORENFORE sees no stars in the night sky. The overcast sky has persisted throughout the evening. Not even the moons are visible through the dark blanket.

FENNIGAN muses.
"This is not like any magic I have seen before."

MARILYN turns to MARTIN
"Who do you think is really feeding, NERRAUNE or Nerull? Don't forget what infernal god NERRAUNE worships."

FENNIGAN reaches into his pouch, but PA'CHEEN shoots into the air ahead of him.
"I'll take a look around!"

PA'CHEEN climbs straight through the canopy of trees. GHORENFORE watches the lupinal sail into the night sky. Green, inky tendrils of some nefarious magic reach across the clouds, bathing the camp in a faint, sickly green. The campfires ficker and shrink, cowering from the green light.

Then, GHORENFORE notices a white flash in the sky. The tendrils recoil. A bolt of white light shoots out of the sky, passing inches from PA'CHEEN. The light pierces the forest canopy and breaks into two rays. One ray slams directly into GHORENFORE and the other engulfs MARILYN.

When the flashes dissipate, GHORENFORE and MARILYN lay on the ground, unconscious.

PA'CHEEN can be heard from the air.
"Now what?"

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:03:00

GHORENFORE barely hears LUSULA shouting
"PA'CHEEN, get in the air! I'll take care of things down here!"

LOWLYN's voice sounds like a phantom disappearing down a long acoustic tunnel.
"MARTIN, HLIN, keep your eyes peeled to the east! We may be under attack.!"

GHORENFORE sees only a void before him. He stumbles through an inky blackness, his armored feet making deafening sounds on an solid plane of blackness. Disorientation and dizziness takes over.

GHORENFORE flails for a few minutes in the void and spots a sickly green light ahead of him, like an ominous torch. Focusing on the green light, GHORENFORE can steady his orientation, using the vertical pulsing light to discern up. The light begins to pulse, quickly followed by in sync vibrations. The void around GHORENFORE quivers from the resonance. The light pulses quicken to a steady stream of pulsating light, and GHORENFORE is quickly bathed in sickly green light.

The transition from abyssal midnight to green is nauseating, like spinning quickly in place while standing on a spinning disc rotating in the opposite direction. His vision blurs, but he seems shapes moving about the green abyss. Many shapes. Just below the sounding resonance, GHORENFORE can hear chanting, but the words are muffled.

Then he hears a scream, a piercing shriek that stabs his ears like a tormented dagger.

As if in defense or spurned by purpose, GHORENFORE's vision clears. Blinking, he sees that he is in a large cavern. The ceiling is high and arched with support buttresses, resembling a great cathedral. However the domed ceiling is certainly made of limestone, unworked limestone by the look of the stalagtites.

GHORENFORE is standing near a large doorway or portal looking into the massive room. The center of the room boasts a large ivory statue, the source of the pulsating light and coinciding vibrations. The ivory statute is a vague humanoid covered in a tattered robe. Well-crafted hands of the stature grip a jagged, serrated scythe. The figure is hunched and swinging the scythe as one would till a field; however, ivory bodies lay at the base of the statues, people in suffering reverance of the creature who has come to harvest them. The robbed figure's face is gaunt and long. Deep set eyes contain only malice and the entire statue pulses in green light. The pillar of light rises into the ceiling of this underground cathedral, perhaps erupting from the ground and into the sky.

The room is occupied by several humanoid figures, many of them are mostly naked, revealing pale blue skin. Four of the humanoids are human in appearance but clad in black armor. Three others stand near a small altar on the far side of the room. Two are dressed in ceremonial black and red robes, one of the figues in a male wood elf. A third figure is covered in a deep brown cloak, possibly made of silk and velvet. A knotted cord is wrapped around the cloaked figure, resting on the full hips of a figure that is unmistakably female regardless of the extreme level of concealment. A long, deep hood covers her face.

A ring of undead bears and ogres line the room.

GHORENFORE's throat dries at the sight of four recognizable forms. Three of them are robed skeletal figures covered in a bluish-gray fungus with pinpoints of malice shining from empty eye sockets. If it wasn't for the green light filling the room, GHORENFORE would have sworn that deep light in those sockets would be red, like the Huecuva defeated a week ago. Next to them is an animated corpse of a human female with a right foot twisted impossibly at the ankle. This was the creature that killed FAWN.

Another shriek rips through the air. GHORENFORE senses that it comes from behind him. Turning behind him he sees MARILYN, her eyes locked in bewilderment and horror, but she did not scream. The scream came from a young wood-elven woman with blood-soaked copper hair. She is strapped to a small cot and is being carried by four blue-skinned humanoids. Two other armor-clad blue-skinned humanoids make up the rear of this procession. They are approaching the open door way next to GHORENFORE and MARILYN.

None of these individuals appear to notice GHORENFORE or MARILYN.

Somewhere
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:08:00

The strange humanoids approach the doorway near GHORENFORE and stop. GHORENFORE can get a better look at them. The humanoids' skin is a faded bluish gray, still noticeable in the pulsating green light that emanates from the center of the room. The humanoids are mostly naked, wearing only limited clothing. They are bald, actually completely hairless. They walk with a stoop, like a prowler. Their build is disturbing similar to a human's. If it wasn't for their stooped nature, they could stand tall and lean like a Suel.

At the entrance to the doorway each humanoids says,
"Kargant."

They are about to carry their captive in with them, when one of the humanoids taking up the rear stops them. He speaks with a hiss; it sounds like the cooling of hot steel.
"We cannot have a repeat of last week."

The humanoid looms over the frightened wood elf. Unlike most of the other blue humanoids, this one is clothed in black and red ceremonial robes. A chain shirt is somewhat concealed underneath the robes. He leans down to the ear of the young elf. Archaic words spill from his mouth as he chants. The chant is followed by,
"Say: Kargant."

Under the compulsion, the wood elf barks "Kargant". Her eyes widen at the horror of this small violation. Hope has vanished from her eyes.

The humanoids and their prisoner move into the large stone cathedral. The prisoner is carried to the altar at the far end of the room. The human priest brandishes a wickedly curved, ceremonial dagger. He glances to the male wood elf next to him, suggesting that the elf take the dagger. The elf looks down at the prisoner, then with a wary glance at the robed woman next to him. He looks back at the priest and shakes his head. The human priest returns to the altar and the prisoner to commence his ritual.

All the other celebrants in the room dropped to a submissive kneeling position around the altar except for the male wood elf.

Kargant? Ghorenfore repeats in his words in his head attempting to decipher the meaning
His eyes turn to Marilyn and quickly scans her but its only for a brief moment. His attention turns back, and becomes all to fixated on the helpless woman that appears to be strapped to the table in front of him.
Is it a dream? Is it real, or is this a future that is yet to be?
The questions turn in his head and he feel himself saying a prayer in his head to Pelor
Why show me this if I cannot help her?
Please show me the way, guide my hand, and ,my sword. Give me the strength of knowledge to defeat this enemy, and bring this suffering to an end!
Ghorenfore attempts to grip his sword, as if preparing for battle, but the sensation and the knowledge that they haven’t noticed him, brings into question whether he is actually there or not...
A teleport spell? Ghorenfore had never been teleported before, perhaps some strange form of magic was at work here.
He remembers the campsite and the white beams of light and even as he takes a few steps forward ,
his thoughts betray him as his mind turns
Ohh but for a one good turning spell, and a smite!
But still he draws back to the white beams of light that hit him. PELOR WAS at work here, and he was giving them the vision they needed, An inside look at the Lair.

A voice echoes in his head, he is not there is he? There’s no way he could have gone from the campsite to this lair so quickly. This was a moment for truth and wisdom, a moment to learn

Quote :

Strength is found in wisdom and in arms; those who possess true strength temper their weapons with wisdom, not heat.

...and if he was being shown this to learn then perhaps this was a moment for wisdom and a chance to learn, instead of itching to go into battle. What type of information can truly be gleaned from this and more importantly how may they save this young woman?

Time is not on our side here If he isnt really there, the realization that he may not be able to help the young woman sinks deep into his mind.
Ghorenfores hand tightens around the hilt of his sword as he slowly draws it out
“MARILYN-“ he says quietly with renewed determination, “I believe we are being shown the way!”

#1 Knowledge Religion Roll (on creepy statue thingy)
#2 Knowledge Religion Roll (On overall ritual)....not sure if I needed to separate these or not. If I didn’t just ignore this roll!
#3 General Knowledge roll on word “Kargant”

The member 'Valthronis' has done the following action : Dices roll

#1 'd20' : 2

--------------------------------

#2 'd20' : 3

--------------------------------

#3 'd20' : 16

Roll #1 = 11 (KR = +9)
Roll #2 = 12 (KR = +9)
Roll #3 = 17 (Int = +1)


[ack must be a top secret religon or cult I never heard of ]

Somewhere
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:25:00

GHORENFORE's Knowledge Results:
The ivory statue is a depiction of the Flan deity Nerull, The Lord of Murder. The ritual is the simplest way to appease Nerull, the sacrfice of a sentient being. You nothing of the word "Kargant" except that in the Flan tongue the word means "life-thief" or "murderer".

*****

A droning chant fills the room for an incredibly long time. During that time, the human priest raises his hands at certain times during the chant, dancing around the altar the young elf is now strapped to. Every few minutes the priest adroitly cuts the elf with his ceremonial dagger. The wounds are carefully administered so that they are not deep enough to cause fatal injury. By the agonizing screams of the elf each cut is meant to cause maximum pain.

MARILYN does not reply to GHORENFORE. She stares at the ritual before them, jaw agape. Her hand is firmly tightened on the hilt of her bastard sword. Her knuckles are white with fury.

The chanting stops. All eyes, living and undead, fall to the human cleric. The cleric stands before the altar with his outstretched to his "beloved" crowd.
"Subjects of The Reaper of Flesh, we stand here tonight as we have done many nights before to witness the end of another life. Tonight, we have assembled to make another offering to The Reaper. Here we shall be reminded again that death comes to all things; there is no escape from the Great Darkness. Life delays the evitable with its myriad of illusions of sight and delusions of the mind, attempting to convince itself of its immortality. However, we, my comrades, are always in the shadows willing to show life its naivete and stupidity. You can hide only for so long from the great predator that is death; it will stalk patiently, comforted that it is eternal while we are not. So many tried to run from death, but they only run in circles. Death is still waiting in front of them, no matter how hard they run away from it."

The cleric brandishes the dagger.
"It shall plunge its dagger into their chest. And while they cough and weeze, surprised that the end has come, Death with smile, knowing that all life ends this way: alone and in despair. Nothing will save you."

The cleric lowers the dagger. He twirls it in his hand, his eyes meditating on the shine of the blade in the green light. His voice is lower now.
"Yet, there are a few of us who have embraced this miserable end. We have surrendered our will to live to appease death, to appease the The Reaper. For if darkness will be our end by the Hand of Death, it should be that we make our peace with The Reaper. Only then can any of us truly be saved and granted an eternal place in the Dark."

The cleric turns his focus back to his congregation. His voice booms once again.
"So how do we continue gain The Reaper's favor? By pursuing Life and all that attempts to escape him. We become His daggers. We become fearless predators of Life. If we should die in our pursuit, we have still served our purpose and our reward is assured."

The cleric turns from the congregation and leans down at the side of the elven captive. Her eyes are wild with fear. Gently he strokes her cheek, wiping away blood from a recent cut. Tears stream down the elf's face.
"There is no need to cry, dear. You of all the humanoid races run for far too long. It is a perversion. I am here to end your misery quickly and complete your glorious transformation."

The cleric sighs, wistfully, then continues.
"The first one of your kind I killed was a little girl, not more than fifty years old. She was braver than you. She never cried; I don't even believe she felt fear. My, it was glorious."
The cleric leans in
"Do you know what she asked me after I plunged a knife into her chest? She asked 'Why?'. Do you know what I said to her? I said, 'Because this is the way it is.' Then I turned the knife in her still beating chest and watched the life in her spill along the cold hard floor. To give that girl such a relief from her misery filled me with pleasure."

The cleric stands up, looking down at the prisoner mockingly.
"Please, find peace in the fact that you are doing me such an honor."

The cleric turns back to his congregation.
"And now we shall make our offering to Nerull so He shall grant us a boon to continue our conquest of Life."

The cleric raises his dagger and, with a lightning flick, cuts the elf's throat. The elf's scream becomes a gurgle and blood trickles from the wound. The wound was not deep, it was not meant to be. It was still fatal, but she could linger, linger in the moment of her death. Every attempt to scream was only answered by bubbles of air and blood from the wound.

The cleric drops toward the elf's head again.
"Do not struggle, dear. Embrace this. It is the only moment you are ever truly alive."

With a mocking smile he turns from his victim. He looks at the creatures who carried her in.
"Please, raise her so we can take her to the Pool."

A shout of ecstacy ripples through the congregation. The blue humanoids rush to lift the gurgling elven prisoner to her feet.

The cleric reprimands them.
"Careful, do not tear the wound. She must remain alive until the ritual is complete."

The humanoids obey and carefully take her out on the cot through another, unlit passageway. Through all of the cheering and ecstacy, the male wood elf only stares distantly at the scene. As the prisoner is taken away he turns to leave, disgust evident on his face.

The cleric sees the action out of the corner of his eye.
"No, NERRAUNE, you need to witness this."

The elf stops and speaks, without turning around.
"I have seen this enough."

The cleric laughs
"Ha! You are member of the clergy! You will take your place in these rituals eventually, either with your hand on the dagger or your body under it!"
The cleric's tone softens.
"You still cling to life? Of course, you do. Come stand beside me."

NERRAUNE stands defiantly, back still toward the cleric.

The cleric shouts the order.
"Come!"

NERRAUNE's eyes drift toward the Huecuvas. They have not moved, either. The malignant light in their sockets meet with NERRAUNE's eyes.

The cleric seems to notice this. It infuriates him.
"You are all mine, now! That was the deal! There is only death for you, NERRAUNE. Even the rivers you used to love will kill you know."

NERRAUNE spins to confront the cleric.
"I would welcome the river's wrath over what is being done here!"

The cleric waves a hand to the door.
"Then go, drown in the rivers that have trapped you here. Satisfy the vengeance of Ehlonna. You will still satisfy The Reaper."

NERRAUNE's face loses its defiance. His eyes reflect his fractured mind, torn in a losing battle where there is no victory.

The cleric, with a mocking smile, guides NERRAUNE to the passage the congregation went down.
"Come, brother."

The hooded woman takes NERRAUNE by the arm. NERRAUNE looks vaguely repulsed by this. He is willingly escorted down the passage. His Huecuvas follow.

HLIN keeps her eyes open for thing that moves in her Darkvision besides the party that is in her area

Then HLIN asks "So what kind of magic can do that?"

Somewhere
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:35:00

Distant chanting pours from the passage the congregation traveled down. Beyond that an eerie silence fills the underground cathedral GHORENFORE is in.

Then, the green light fails, plunging the room in complete darkness.

Out in the Oytwood, the green pillar of light also drops away, leaving the camp bathed in darkness and the ruddy glow from campfires.

GHORENFORE can hear his breath echo through the cavernous cathedral. Pinpoints of white light shine ahead of him, bouncing to and fro as if swaying in a breeze. The lights expand their radius of illumination, and GHORENFORE, who is still beside MARILYN, is now in a circular room with a lower ceiling. The congregation of Nerull worshippers are here. They line in a crescent around a large brownish-red pool. The pool is stagnant caked with a dried, flaky paste. There is a smell permeating the room, a smell of decayed corpses and sulfur. The human cleric and the blue-skinned humanoids carrying the elven prisoner step into the pool. The paste floats away from their feet and ankles, revealing stagnant blood underneath. The elven prisoner is still bleeding, the wound on her neck is more severe.

The humanoids approach the middle of the pool and lay the cot to just above the waterline. They wait for the cleric.

The cleric approaches, kneels, and brushes his hand along the prisoner's frightened face.
"It will be over soon. Your purpose shall be fulfilled."
He turns back to his congregation.
"And now for the final victory of Our Lord. Here is a small symbol of the victory to come when the burden of life is torn asunder and the dead shall rise in its place. Never shall one grow old and weak, never shall one feel desire unfulfilled, never shall one live with the illusion that life is a fragile gift. Only when one embraces despair and the ending of hope can one find peace. Here we shall demonstrate our worthiness, Reaper, and give you another to teach. Disconnect her from her vain, pointless life and full her with your power."

The cleric nods to the humanoids, and they lower the cot into the pool. The prisoners gurgles and writhes as the blood touches her skin. The humanoids then put their hands on her chest, legs, head, and arms, submerging into the pool of rancid blood. They are drowning her!

She struggles for less than a minute.

The cleric looks on, a mocking smile crosses his face as the prisoners flailings lessen.
"She has gone."
He says that almost piously.

After ten agonizing minutes of chanting praising Nerull, ripples form in the pool. They originate from the drowning body of the prisoner. A hands rises from the pool. The humanoids grab the hand and pull the elven prisoner from the pool. However, she is not alive. Her movements are awkward and uncoordinated. Her eyes are glazed like a doll's eyes. The wound on her throat is still open, still spilling blood. And she no longer struggles against her captors. She comes before the cleric and bows.

The cleric places his hand on her head.
"Welcome, sister."

A white pillar of light fills the room. It does not seem to alert the congregation. The light burns GHORENFORE's eyes, causing him to turn from the grisly ritual. Disorientation and a loss of breathing fill GHORENFORE's thoughts. Darkness comes to him.

*****
Time: 23:50:00

GHORENFORE awakens in the dark. The ruddy, blurry glow of a campfire is his only source of light. As his vision focuses, the flame of the fire becomes clear, as does the lupine features of LUSULA standing over him.

She smiles,
"Hello, GHORENFORE, you were out for awhile."

Ghorenfore rises to his feet slowly, immediately his eyes search for Marilyn.
"I was many things-" he says with a tone of finality "-but 'out' was not one of them"
Ghorenfores knows deep down that there is nothing that can be done for the prisoner. Mixed emotions run through his head and yet the one that stays the longest is a feeling of not having acted and being responsible for the young woman’s death.
There is no doubt in his head who showed him the way, and what light it was that guided his trip, the only question that remains in his head is, why?
Somehow he and Marilyn had been deemed worthy enough and granted an exclusive pass into a sight beyond sight.
His mind reels still attempting to record in his head every minute detail, Etching it like a well written novel to be refernced when the time came.
but still why?
A question that so forcefully presents itself and is asked in its own silence, deep down he knows there is no answer, there is only what must be done. Madness rarely ever needs a logical reason, especially in service to God such as Nerull.
The trip through the unknown and the light that shown the way only serves to reinforce him in his own mind.
One phrase echoes through his existence it seems to hold new meaning now.

Quote :

"As a paladin, I hold you to your vow!"

Ghorenfore walks over to Marilyn a deadly calm and eerie silence motivates his actions
"I believe now more than ever, we need to end this sooner rather than later."

[Player to DM, If Marilyn is waking up in the same fashion that Ghorenfore is he'll attempt to help her to her feet. If she is still unconscious he'll attempt to wake her carefully by kneeling down and giving her a slight nudge]

Oytwood Base Camp
Godsday, Sunsebb 4th, 586CY
Time: 23:51:00

MARILYN awakens with a start. She lays still for a moment, staring into the deep, black sky. Her eyes shift to her left then to her right. In a moment she locks eyes with some unseen force in the sky or a thought in her head.
"It is time."

She sits up quickly without aid. She stares at GHORENFORE, her eyes shine with faith and determination. She takes GHORENFORE's hand and jumps to her feet. Her grip is strong and unyielding. Whatever speechless trepidation she felt during the vision has vanished.
"Lieutenant, it is time. We cannot sit here and wait for tomorrow evening. This is not just about some misguided former druid lord; this is about The Reaper and the murder of an entire forest!"

She releases GHORENFORE's hand and turns to the rest of party.

PA'CHEEN landed just a moment ago.

She looks over every soul in the party, taking in their gazes.
"We cannot sit idle. We must make a strike against NERRAUNE tonight!"
She turns to PA'CHEEN
"PA'CHEEN, can we implement your attack strategy tonight? We do not need extra preparation, correct?"

PA'CHEEN smiles
"We do not, Sword Maiden. I am more than prepared for battle. I shall relish it!"

LOWLYN is dumbfounded.
"Hold, we can't just launch an attack now, we know too little. It's NERRAUNE you are talking about facing. He's not just some camp of enemy orcs that can be ambushed. His forces are comprised of the undead and the otherworldly; we need more time."

MARILYN replies, her urgency is relentless.
"We have no time. We must act now. Who is with me? I wish to shine the light of Glory down a Maw of Despair!"