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Saturday, 9 March 2013

1.7g - General Stanig's Plan

Gwenllian searched the forest floor for the runecrafted stones General Stanig asked her to find.  They were scattered throughout the forest, but their placement suggested they had been disrupted or moved.  Many of the stones she found were lying on their sides or half buried in the underbrush of the forest. 

After gathering as many as she could handle she made her way to Sergeant Ognin at the Runeguard outpost in Faering Woods.  As she approached she overheard his discussion with one of the other Runeguard.

“This place disgusts me.” He said with venom.  “As if fae on their own aren’t bad enough, now they are tainted by death magic as well.”

“I never thought I’d return to this place.” The other Sergeant replied.  “The death that swept over this land was greater than any force I’d ever seen.”

They broke off as she approached and rushed to her side to take some of the stones.

“What?!” He said in disbelieve as she relayed her directions.  “A ghost of General Stanig told you to bring these Runecrafted Stones to me?  I’d call you a liar if my bones didn’t tell me this is something the old general would do.”

Gwenllian laughed.  “This is exactly the reaction he said you’d have.” She looked around behind them, searching the darkness for the pearly sheen of the ghost.  “I wish he was here to see your face.”

“I do to, Lass.  It warms my heart that the spirit of my old friend is still looking after us.  I believe I know what General Stanig has in mind.  These stones were used at the height of dwarven power, and they may allow us to save this forest.   I’ll belss one of the stones with the words of Bahralt, god of the city.  With it, you can purge Gorvaht’s corruptions before it spreads.”

“That’s perfect!”Gwenllian exclaimed.  “One less area of moonshade to worry about would be a load off everyone’s mind.”

Gwenllian, Sergeant Ognin and Sergent Tarmon conducted the ceremony to bless the stone, using one of the nearby river stones as an altar and their own hope as blessing candles. 

“It’s the best we can do without leaving our post.  Without the true ceremony, there is no telling how well the ritual will work, but....”

“It will work.  Bahralt is a crafts man.  He knows what it means to improvise and will have seen our need as clearly as if we were praying in the Sanctum itself.”

Without another word Sergeant Ognin handed her the stone.  She made her way to the Faering Woods ponds and focused her thoughts through the stones energy and onto one of the dark idols.

Within seconds an ogre came barreling out of the deep woods to investigate the disturbance.  Gwenllian seized her chance as he was distracted by the idol and worked up her most potent life energy spell.  The powerful life energy, coupled with the goodness and clearness of mind used to create it, made short work of the dark, death energy that animated the ogre.  He fell to the ground in the pond with a large splash.

Again and again Gwenllian repeated the ritual at different areas of darkness in the ponds until she was too exhausted to continue.  Hoping she had done enough, she made her way back to the Runegaurd outpost.

“It sounds like we were right to send you when we did.  If purging the corruption in Faering Woods released a being from the Plane of Death, Bahralt knows what would have happened if those pools had been left to fester.  The Runeguard is proud to call you an ally.”

Gwenllian nodded with exhaustion at the praise. 

“You need to return to Hammerlord Post.  I’m sure they are wondering about your lengthy absence.” said Sergeant Tarmon.  “I’m sure we can keep things in the woods cleaned up from here.   A few brownies to scatter are much more manageable.”

Gwenllian walked back to Hammerlord Post.  As she left the woods she was surprised to see how dim the light the day had become.  While she was in the woods it had felt like the dead of night.  Now she realised it may not have been simply the work of the death energy for, although she had entered the wood at mid-day, it was now early dawn.

She arrived at Hammerlord Post and insisted on sitting to relay her story, her weary legs no longer able to support her weight.

“The Abyssal have taken the Messenger?”  Thomas Penthas exclaimed.  “This is most distressing news!  We need to act fast.”  He then looked at her and must have realized her need for sleep.

“Gwenllian, our new direction has just become quite clear.  We need to find out where the Messenger of Bahralt has been taken.”

“I agree, but might I sleep for a few hours first?”

She did not wait for an answer, and instead fell asleep right at his feet.  To his credit he did not wake her.  When she awoke a few hours later, the midmorning sun was higher in the sky and she felt slightly refreshed.

“Are you ready to continue your journey?”  Thomas Penthas asked with a little sharpness in his voice.  “Perhaps the relics of Bahralt in Molinar Crossing will give a sign as to the Messenger’s whereabouts.”

“Where can I find the relics?”

Holden came to the group and put his arm around Gwenllian’s shoulder.  “You remember Molinar Crossing.”  He said to her, attempting to jog her memory.

“I remember it as a bustling town that provided travelers and merchants a place to stay outside Hammerknell’s gates.”  She said, remembering back fondly the memory of traveling with her parents to sell their elixirs at the feast day festivals.  “I remember hearing the large bell ringing at the closing of the gates at night.  Sometimes I could even hear it all the way from Three Springs, if the night was silent.  I haven't been there since my return to Moonshade.”

“After the Ward fractured, a newly shadetouched Gorvaht assaulted the gates of Hammernell, but the Runeguard sealed them.” Holden said with pride.  “Enraged, Gorvaht destroyed the town.  It will not be as you remember it, Linny, but try to remember it was it was.   Where in Molinar Crossing would you have gone to pray?”  Holden asked.

“I guess I would start at the altars?” Gwenllian said, more asking that suggesting.

Holden nodded.  “And Linny, while you are there, if you could strike the bell.  Perhaps that bell could bring the sprits peace.”

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