1/30/00 - Report by Lore d'Ascalon
I woke up in a bed of Empath Abbey, Yew, with the worst headache in months. The monks had been kind enough to grant me asylum one last eve when, returning from that ill-fated caravan to Britain, I had limped back into town. That must have been the worst battle I ever witnessed first-hand. We were betrayed, no doubt by the same man who hired us. We should have seen it. His insistence on taking the east road, his continuous rant about our delays, ... It was as if he was worried the "highwaymen" would leave before we got into their hands. Oh, it was a superb ambush, I had to grant them that. A strike force of Shadow Clan orcs, undeads from Necropolis and sorcerers from The Balance - may that name live forever in infamy ! - were waiting for us at the first bridge, west of Stark Keep. It wasn't so much a battle than a slaughter. Despite our gallant resistance, we fell swiftly to a lethal combination of fire, lightning, poison and blades. Many of my brothers and sisters of the Mists fell that day, along with Shadow Rangers, and other Yew freedom-fighters. Infighting had been our doom. The Paladin who led us had tried his best to get us organized but individualities had been our downfall. As long as Good stood divided and Evil united, we couldn't prevail. Given the recent attacks on several towns, that didn't bode well for our future.
After a quick trip to the bank area to get some decent equipment, a look at my wristwatch (a nice New Year present if there was one) told me I had missed the best part of the day already. I groaned in despair as I realized that Flicker and Mona's wedding was already over. Two of my brethren of the Mists of Avalon had united their destiny on this day, hoping to forge a bright future for themselves on this beleaguered world.
By now, the reception must have begun at the Yew Winery. With a little luck, I would still arrive in time to offer them my congratulations. A monk had gone to fetch Omen, my trusty steed, for me. Vaulting into the saddle, I took the direction of the main doors. The Winery was just a stone-throw away of the Abbey. I would arrive quickly. Little did I know what was awaiting me outside …
As soon as I cleared the doors, I found myself in the middle of a large battle. It seemed an orc army had invaded Yew once again. Not Shadow Clanners though, shardies, a clear sign it was an attack directed by the mysterious evil Mistress which had been behind the late town attacks. I could see my Brothers and Sisters of the Mists streaming out of the Winery and wading courageously into battle, clad only in ceremonial armor for the most part. The Lord F'nor was on the roof, making fire and lightning rain down on the invaders. I grabbed my hand harp and started playing a music that would, hopefully, get the monsters angry and confused enough to attack each others rather than the natives. Alas, it seemed they were already under some kind of hypnotic spell for they were unusually unresponsive. Since subtlety had failed, only brute force remained …
In the same move I exchanged my harp for my bow, my eyes already scanning the crowd for a suitable target. That's when I saw him. A strange man, clad in a light green armor, walking right in the middle of the fight as casually as if he was only taking a stroll. He had only a runebook in his hands and seemed to be greatly bored by the spectacle of death we were offering him. His skin has a weird purple skin from afar .. until I realized it was in fact covered by a giant tattoo. That alone identified him to me as Keeonean, the infamous evil sorcerer who was behind the attacks on my town. Apparently, I hadn't been alone to make that deduction for Captain Paul Atreides of the Yew Militia fairly ran to the man, ordering him to stop and surrender while others started converging on him with lethal intentions.
The man didn't seem very eager to surrender though, and he simply continued to walk around, unconcerned. Well, I couldn't let such a evil man escape his just punishment so I fired at him in the hope a minor wound would stop him long enough for the militia to arrest him. The arrow struck true but was deflected by his armor as easily as rain. In the next second, the weapons of no less than three able-bodied warriors struck him simultaneously and he simply yawned. He YAWNED ! And not a drop of blood marred his skin. I saw and heard distinctively a man offer him a Gate to Necropolis whose inhabitants were apparently eager to help him. I recognized the sorcerer as one of those who had ambushed the caravan the day before. He didn't seem to hear the offer though .. or if he did, he clearly wasn't interested.
As if in a nightmare I saw my mother charging him from the north, ready to smite him, but the town guards - who until then had seemed in a daze - suddenly shook off their lethargy and jumped in her path, not only preventing her from reaching Keeonean but also swinging their deadly weapons at her, slaying her instantly. Disbelief warred with despair in my heart and I rushed forward to salvage what I could from her body who was lying in the mud of the battlefield. I could vaguely hear people saying the sorcerer had disappeared but I no longer cared. Unfortunately, the worse was yet to come …
As soon as the orc attack was over, undeads from Necropolis attacked from the south. No doubt, they had come to try to rescue Keeonean and spirit him away to their evil lair. They couldn't have picked a worst time …
The town defenders, enraged by this new treachery and the apparent flight of the enemy leader, quickly surrounded the undeads and made short work of them. No sooner had they done so that a new wave of orc troops hit us, once again with Keeonean strolling in their midst.
All these senseless deaths, all this blood, my own mother, her broken body lying in my arms .. something snapped in me. I drew my rapier and launched myself at Keeonean with a vengeance, determined to bring him down if it was the last thing I did. Yet, once again, the mad town guards made a human shield of their body for him and struck me down as a common criminal. As my body hit the ground in a spray of blood and my soul was sent to the Grey Realm, I found myself totally confused. Why ? Why had they protected him ?!?
I spied my grand-mother, the healer Dove, running to me as rapidly as her old legs allowed. Yet as soon as she started to invoke the magic of the Shrines to bring me back from the deads, the guards struck her too !
This was too much to bear. That they were corrupt enough to protect a known-criminal, I could accept .. barely ! But that they would stoop down to using lethal force against a defenseless old lady, and one who had devoted her entire life to helping others, I couldn't accept.
Captain Atreides was running around, trying to force Keeonean to face him in single combat, but to no effect. Apparently satisfied with his attacks, the evil mage had disappeared once again into thin air, perhaps to report his progresses to his dark mistress.
When my brother Devin finally arrived and used magic to return my grand-mother and I among the livings, I sat on the side of the road, a dejected look on my face. Mona of the Mists, who know me well, came to me and asked me what was wrong. Had an item of great worth to me been lost in the confusion of the battle, perhaps stolen by a scoundrel ?
My answer, when it came, brought tears to her eyes.
"Aye Mona, I lost something dear to me today .. my faith in our Kingdom …"