Category Archives: The Curse

War of Fay: Kaladim


This book tells the continued story written by a young Teir’Dal at the beginning of the War of Fay.
There are many stories from the War of Fay.
This one is collected from the journal of a young Teir’Dal soldier.

The Cantor and I run from the ship, our shoulder curled forward and heads down until we pass into the surrounding trees.
My eyes adjust to the darkness and I see the remaining members of my unit.
We started across the Ocean of Tears with twenty. There are seventeen of us now, crouched in the shadows.

“You should not have stopped for him; he was destined to die,” the Cantor whispers in my ear.
It is the first she has spoken to me since telling me her name aboard the ship.
“I did not stop for him, he grabbed my arm,” I whispered back. “You can wait here; once the ogres have slain the dwarves, they will escort you.”
“No,” she says, “I am coming with you.”

I raise a eyebrow at her, but there is no time for further discussion.
I know that we have not planned to bring her along with us. In our training, the Cantor always traveled with the ogre units, primarily to be safe but also because my unit’s mission is different from other missions.
The unit leader will put her into her place; it is not for me to tell her she cannot come along.

Surprisingly, the team leader does not care that the Cantor is accompanying us to our meeting place.
She glances at the Cantor and some secret signal passed between them, for they turn as one and fade into the treeline. I fade behind them.
The ground rises and falls beneath our feet as we march steadily onward.

The sun rises. The ogres have done an excellent job through the early light.
From the place in which we hide, I can still see toward the hates. Bodies are strewn about and already there are beasts gathering to feast.
Our arrival has definitely caught the dwarves unaware.
The Cantor sits beside me briefly but I avoid her gaze. Is it coincidence that someone named “Death” had spent time with my comrade, who died so soon after we came ashore?

As though sensing my thoughts, the Cantor leans towards me. She is not smiling.
“He was not meant to survive. Do you blame me for easing his final hour?”
I do not answer, so she continues, “They call me Death for I have the curse of knowing who will live and who will not. You will not die today.”
When I turn to look at her, she is gone.

The sun is high over head and the ogres have finished with the outer defenses of Kaladim.
The dwarves, so proud of their fortress, have retreated into its bowels.
When the skies darken again, my team and I are to move forward, then divide into smaller groups.
We shall not see each other again until we reach our final destination.

I see the Cantor now.
She sits beside the team leader and they whisper back and forth, occasionally smothering smiles behind their hands.
Are they speaking of me and my twisted gait? I shake myself, for such thoughts are foolishness in battle. I am not a child, whose only care is whether someone likes me.
I do not care how the Cantor spends her time. Her name is Death, She makes me uneasy.

As darkness falls, we hear the ogres working hard below us.
They are piling high vast quantities of trees before the hates of Kaladim and will soon set them ablaze. Our until will leave before they light the fire and will disappear into the night.
The team leader comes to me and whispers, “The Cantor will go with you.”

“She cannot,” I whispered back, angrily adding, “This is not part of the plan.”
The team leader’s eyes narrow, but her voice drips with menace: “This has always been part of the plan; we do not tell everything to those in service beneath us. The Cantor goes with you; you will do as she bids.”
The team disperses and I..nod curtly to the Cantor and we too slip off into the dark.

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The Valorous Tragedy of the Frogloks of Guk


The Valorous Tragedy of the Frogloks of Guk
or
The Abridged Recordings Of Hopton Braveheart City Guard to Upper Guk

And they march us to our fates,
Though their iron shod gates.

Mithaniel be praised! Though I am tired my spirit is cheered by the benevolence of Marr, he who gave us the strength to defeat the Rallosian assault on Guk. Their army was broken by the Greenmist thus we slew them with little difficulty. The High Constable now directs our full army’s attention to the reclamation of all of Guk. With the Rallosians defeated we should make quick work of it, Mithaniel willing.

The Curse of Ykesha is truly an aberration. I stay hopeful that we can cull the numbers of the cursed – though they are fierce fighters – and lay them to rest. We have lost barely a few froglok and have learnt to quickly burn the bodies of the fallen lest their bodies resurrect. While we mourn our deceased brethren I remain optimistic that Lower Guk can be reclaimed once we bolster our army now that the Rallosian threat is no more.

Mithaniel steels us with his light,
In the guidance of the right.

Forgive your captor, brother Froglok,
Though he may beat you til you bleed,
For he knows not the comforts of Mithaniel,
And will face great punishment for his deeds.

More of our ranks have fallen in battle. We fight for what little remains of Upper Guk. The undead and cursed pour out of Lower Guk and it is all we can do to keep them stemmed at the choke point. The sky is a constant black smudge from all of the soot and debris from the burning bodies.

We realize we can no longer contain the curse. Our ranks have lost many a good soldier and there can be no replacements. The horror of watching the fallen reanimate is enough to turn the stomach. To know that we share the same fate shakes me to the core.

And let our people’s suffering,
Drive our spirits to rise again

This is the right of the Froglok
This is the due of the brave
Though this day may end in misery
We will be free again!

We are overrun. This is the last battle for we have sealed off Guk from the rest of the Norrath. Our meager food supply is depleted and while our bodies are weak our souls are strong. My faith in Mithaniel Marr is unwavering for when I die this body may be reanimated as a vessel fo evil by my soul will never be ruled by Ykesha’s foul curse. If I am found in the future to be reanimated please dispose of my body using any means necessary. Tell our loved ones we did our best. May Mithaniel protect them from this horror.

The Seeds of Corruption


In times past, when the island was a bastion of knowledge, the seeds of corruption were planted. As the city of seers and scholars rose to greater heights, celestial words were interpreted. The beauty of what was once offered was defiled in erudition. The city fell.
The tomb of knowledge passed through the ages, no one to gaze upon the words, defiled or not. The ages lived and died and a once great empire was swallowed by the island, covering much of what was with natural beauty. Then came the castaways.

Upon the shores the waves arrived, occasionally bringing gifts to an abandoned isle. Some of these gifts were seeds of new flora while others were creatures lucky enough to survive atop wayward flotsam. The creatures of the gods arrived.

Not all creatures are content in sufficient splendor. There are those that desire what is not theirs, a greater power. Paupers strive to be kings and the mouse dreams of being a lion. Such envy was in the heart of the one what would become the matron of corruption.

Upon the island a dryad washed ashore atop a kelp raft. With this dryad came the envy of those left behind. Far away, in a forest across the horizon, is where her people dwelt. Within a grove of tranquility the spawn of hatred arose, hatred and greed for power that was not hers.

In the tranquil grove one dryad south to claim rule. True it was that this beautiful creature of arcane flora had power, but not the power to rule. Such power was reserved for the seeds of nobility. Here in the grove, this dryad could not rule.

The envious dryad departed the grove and journey to the suns slumber began. Beyond the sea was rumored to be an island of secrets, secrets of the gods. It is only there that a humble dryad can become a powerful matron to the grove.

With the assistance of the forests of Prexus, envy and greed made its way to the mythical isle. There on the isle she found a circle of stones and a grove that would soon be her own. The dryads of the stones were gracious, the plot of evil unbeknownst.

While the islands dryads basked in the splendor of tranquility, far from the chaos of the children of the gods, the keeper of envy south knowledge. Many suns would cross the clouds before such secrets would be found.

The green on the island covered most of the ruins of the past. The envious dryad came to find such a place, a dwelling of a long dead seafarer. Here in a monument of a lonely hermit were placed many treasures, greatest of them all are the ones that do not sparkle.

The darkened shell of a pirate’s last days hid a book removed from the tombs of knowledge that hide deep beneath the island. This tome seethed arcane power to the touch. Inside the binder were words that promised great powers of growth.

The powers of growth were to great for an envious dryad to ignore. The warning signs all about the hedge covered ruins went unnoticed. The sight of tormented vines clenching the throat of a lifeless corpse meant nothing to the blinded by the touch of grandeur.

Within the binder were placed magical words upon ancient pages. The pages were meant to be spoken aloud, but never comprehended. What manner of soul would dare speak arcane words, not knowing what they promised?

As the dryad spoke aloud words she could not comprehend, the meaning became clear. Tales of the forests of the gods became known, spells to tend the vase green above. Sprinkled within the truth was corruption.

Upon reading the first few chapters of the powerful book, the dryad felt a surge of arcane energy. With this new power the dryad came to claim the circles of stones on the island and all about it. This would be hers and all others would server her as the new matron of the grove.

The book removed from the ancient library was corrupted by those that first dared to interpret its wounds. Such corruption leads to the defiling of the soul of the daring reader. Curses come to those that read aloud the words of the Seeds of Corruption.

As the new matron of the grove tasked her people to server her desires, she began to feel a loss of the power pulled from the magical tome. Reading the tome aloud did no good. She attempted to hide her dwindling power from her new society, but soon her prayers would be answered in death.

The grove matron began to wither. A few of her new circle came to question the matron’s appearance. In a fit of rage, a deadly power arose. The matron’s fury was channeled into an evil force that began to siphon the powers of those that came to her aid.

Where she was once powerless and withering, she was now reborn. The death of her beautiful new kingdom must occur for her to claim the power she always desired. The wisting of the grove matron’s society began.

Slowly, one by one, those who served the grove matron came forward to be blessed by their queen. This blessing was in truth a deadly curse that saw to the grove’s corruption. What was once beautiful was now twisted and ugly.

Within the defiled circle of stones a grove matron feeds off people. Her dreams of ruling over a majestic grove that would rival any other could be no more. To sustain her lust for power, her people must suffer. Such is the curse of corrupted knowledge.

From the branches of Tunare, by the will of the Heartwood, I traveled across the great horizon, sent to destroy a threat greater than I found. Such knowledge could defile all that we fight to reclaim. I now know that i must remain and return this evil to the holds below.

The Seeds of Corruption delivers what is promised, but the false words corrupt wishes. DO not seek this ancient knowledge. I write this tale in hopes that such corruption does not escape again. Heed the warning — L. Ashwood.

The Case of the Lost Lute


The Case of the Ayonic Lute
I have begun to develop a fascination with a magical lute called the Ayonic Lute. While passing through the Thundering Steppes I happened upon a curious bard by the name of Maestra Orlita. She was a ruling member of a miniscule quintet of bards that call themselves the Chaos Orchestra. Having piqued my interest in eccentric quintets, I decided to seek out the four remaining bards of this orchestra. What I found were two lyricists in Qeynos Harbor and two within East Freeport. Offering little save ancient songs, the lyricists went on to ignore me and force their out of tune melody upon the citizens of the great empires of man. If I were to find out anything more about the Chaos Orchestra, it would be in city records.

These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.

These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.

These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.

I found the “belly of a giggling fish.” To be more precise, I found the theater of the Laughing Trout, a tavern in Rivervale. I found a peculiar xylophone made from bones, the hagralaphone. This curious musical device emanated with arcane power. I discovered that the hagralaphone was made by woodworkers from Bogbottom Mills. Tracking down the halfling shop was an easy enough task, but it was overrun with goblins. I did find the descendant and current owner of Bogbottom Mills, Camfred. He told me that his ancestors created the hagralaphone out of the bones of an evil troll witch named Hagralazoo. They did this by order of the legendary bard, Vhalen.

I journeyed to Antonica to find the Bell Tower of Vhalen. It is there that Vhalen fell to a great horde of undead. It is in the ancient tower that I spoke to the vision of Vhalen, a projection of the bard that now is bound to Ethernere. He said that Hagralazoo, the troll witch and arch nemesis of Rivervale, had taken the cursed Ayonic Axe from the Chaos Orchestra as they fled Katta Grove. She tricked them into destroying themselves in a final concert. She then used the axe and its bardic powers to begin a series of secret concerts in which she would collect the valuables from the deceased audience and the unwitting bard whom she tricked into wielding the melodic axe.

The vision of Vhalen said, Hagralazoo lost the axe to an unwitting accomplice, Kelkarn. She had hoped the bard could assist her in completing an arcane composition that she had stolen from the mysterious sage, the Drafling. The composition could remove the curse from the axe, allowing the witch to use it. However, the composition was incomplete. Kelkarn was a well known bard and the troll witch came to him on a misty road during his many travels. In the guise of an old crone, Hagralazoo persuaded the bard to display his talents. She then gave him the Drafling composition and asked him to complete it. If he did, the Ayonic Axe could be his- a lie!

These words have yet to reveal themselves to you.

Hagralazoo never made it back in time to recover the Ayonic Axe thanks to the Drafling. When she did, she found the axe was removed. It vanished via the black market auctions of Freeport. Vhalen was able to find the Ayonic Axe and hide it. As luck would have it, the Drafling was an asssociate of his! Vhalen requested the remains of Hagralazoo be used to create the Hagralaphone. The unique xylophone could summon the troll witch back so that she could reveal the composition that Kelkarn completed. Many years living in the land between life and death may persuade the troll witch to reveal the location to Vhalen or another bard such as myself.

The Archtome of Haoaera


So presented is the Archtome of Haoaera, the chronicle of our race.
Translated to Common by Dithrak the Wise for the benefit of those who travel here and wish to understand our ways.

(From the Book of Ukan)
…. As Rokan the Elder considered the differences between the fish and the mammals of the sea, he beheld the land animals and learned of the ones who sprang not from eggs. Then Reveskius appeared and showed him which of these were fit to be hunted and eaten, and which were to be ignored. Small game that crawled on four legs without shells might be eaten freely by a single spiroc, whereas game that walked rather than crawled might be hunted by more than one spiroc, especially if they moved in packs. Reveskius did then commune with Rokan for a time and showed him the many rules of hunting which he was to pass on to his children, and they to their own children, so that the chosen of Reveskius need not appeal directly to him for food.

(From the Book of Bargrak)
‘…All threats to your rookeries, eyries, and villages are to be destroyed’, Reveskius said. ‘The beings of other lands must not harm you, and many will try to appeal to your noble natures in order to insinuate themselves within your trust. Know a living being by its nature. If it makes war upon you, if it disturbs these quiet lands and the peace you require to spawn new eggs, if it does not ignore your eggs but instead abuses them, or if it eats more than the portion of food that a grown spiroc may eat, and helps itself to food and game that have been set aside for the children of Haoaera and returns less food than it is consuming, then that creature must be sent away and warned never to return.

If these creatures refuse such warnings and return to your lands, then you must slay them without mercy, lest their ways interfere with your own, lest they breed in greater numbers then shall you, lest they drive you out of your own lands and ruin all that you have made…’

(From the Legend of Eagrik)
…Then Reveskius, taking pity on Eagrik for having fulfilled all but the lsat of his challenges, spoke to him these words: ‘Eagrik, Champion of the Haoaerans, who has fought so hard for his people, who has accepted my challenges yet has failed the last of these, I do pity you. Your challenge to me has proven fruitless.’ Eagrik looked upon Reveskius with weariness and said, ‘I, like the rest of my kin, tire of your games. We have long revered you, Reveskius, but we need you no longer. We must be free to roam where we will without fetter.’

Reveskius smiled upon his former champion and said, ‘Eagrik, your impudence is the curse of your race. You dare to defy me? See what becomes of those who earn my wrath!’ Then did Reveskius pick Eagrik up in his mighty taloned claws, and slowly squeezed the life from his body. But even as Eagrik’s friends cried out in horror, so did Eagrik find the heart of Reveskius with his spear, and this the great and ancient roc who had long protected the Haoaerans was slain.

‘Behold, Reveskius has been killed,’ said the priests, who became unnerved and began to wail and cry. Eagrik stood then among them and said, ‘It is no longer necessary to submit to the whims of this creature, which is now dead,’ Eagrik declared. ‘But what will become of us now?’ whispered the high priest. ‘The teachings of Reveskius were the foundation of our culture!’ Eagrik looked at them and replied, ‘And so shall they remain, for his teachings remained sound even if his motives did not…’

(From the Trials of Shoshak)
…So the elders of Haoaera and Gorowyn did see the need for archivists to live among them, writing down all that was seen and done and talked about, in the manner of the wingless ones from distant shores. This occupied the archivists with activity and made them happy; the leaders of the village had records of their words written down to help them avoid a great many arguments later and they too were made happy;

the artisans of Gorowyn no longer needed to occupy their time with verbally passing down their wisdom to their fledgling apprentices but could make them read parchments of instructions instead, and were also happy. Shoshak determined to write down the most important legends and sayings and beliefs of the Haoaerans into a great bundle, an Archtome which would preserve the essence of the people for eons…

(From the Tale of Whitefeathers)
…Then did Whitefeathers throw his head back and cry out to the gods, saying ‘That you shall not forsake us, we shall make our mark upon this land!’ All then donned a stonepick and followed him to the great greystone plinth of Chrykori, and proceeded to carve it into a great statue in the image of their champion, the people found new purpose and threw themselves beak and claw at this for thirty fortnights, whereupon the work was done and Eagrik stood above them once more, his stone likeness proudly facing southward, as if watching over the seas for signs of invaders…

(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
‘…This day of wonders, of the opening of an ancient chamber hitherto unknown to us deep within the wall of the volcano, saw our excitement give way to concern as we tried to think of what we should do with the creatures found in the strange glass tubes. We do not know what dark magic set these devices here within our sacred mountain, but perhaps they are meant as a gift from the gods? If so I fail to comprehend this divine caprice… these scaly creatures seem unfit for anything but brutish labor. Perhaps after we have released them from the glass tubes we can learn more about them…’

(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
‘The first of the creatures released from the glass cylinders failed to respire and soon died. We worried over this a bit and decided to bury its body in the ground in the manner of the flighless tool-users. The second attempt to open a glass tube went better. We were able to revive it and get it to talk. It knew nothing but gibberish so it was necessary to spend some time working on communication… I fail to see why the creator of these beings did not provide a single thing for their sustenance, forcing us to feed the creatures with our own rookery stuff…’

(From the Thoughts of Korryk Shortbeak)
‘… that after the incident in Timorous Maw it is clear to all that the Sar’Nak are unworthy to be called friends, are unfit for labor, and are undesirable even as pets. We notice that even the gentlest of them eats more than his weight twice over in a month, making their appetites unsustainable in Gorowyn or anywhere else nearby. They seem to be bred for battle, they think only of their honor and spend their time chattering about rules of warfare and the manner of rule they should like to see us Haoaerans adopt.

Further, they never seem to tire of picking duels with us. The village council has decided that the creatures are to be destroyed. The teachings of Reveskius are clear on this matter, as are the tribal laws, but even without them we can see there can be no co-existence. We shall put them to death tomorrow night, as they sleep. As I write this I feel the chill of destiny upon me, for I shall be one of the ones bearing a dagger and wielding it with malice. My sadness and frustration at wasting a whole year attempting in vain to coexist with these creatures is matched only by my fervent desire to be rid of them forever…’

(From the Thoughts of Kraw Lockbeak)
‘…would not have had us make the attack last night, and we should have listened. We might then have devised a better plan. As it was, when we crept into the sleeping chamber where the Sar’Nak were gathered, a torchfire was lit by one of them, who cried out. Of the few dozen Sar’Nak in the room, nearly all came awake at once and attacked us, for we had entered their sleeping quarters unannounced with weapons drawn. All hope of killing them quietly in their sleep had gone, and even our plan to escape with all of our feathers intact was now in some doubt.

A fight immediately broke out, and the room filled with the sounds of battle. I swear by Eagrik’s statue, the Sarnaks were enjoying themselves, though they howled angrily of our betrayal. As we fought our way back to the main chamber I noticed that both Korryk Shortbeak and Swak Pettyfeathers had fallen. Perhaps eight or nine Sar’Nak fell in battle as well, but that is poor payment for the sacrifice of both Korryk and Swak. Having escaped, we have spread warnings and hope to keep the Sar’Nak at bay in the tunnels of the lower city. With good use of archers we might keep them from threatening the rookery levels…’

Legacy of Guk


Legacy of Guk
or
What History Remains
Kruuk Glugop

Our people are a strong people. With Mithaniel Marr behind us, we have endured many catastrophes in our history, and have always managed to come back stronger than before. Recently, we were able to rise against the vile trolls, and took the city for our own, as Gukta, the Outpost of Marr. The trolls have been unsuccessful in reclaiming the city, and Mithaniel willing, they never shall.The ancient home of our people, Guk, was not so lucky. It was consumed by a curse unleashed by Innoruuk and the troll villain known as Ykesha. Many of our brave warriors were trapped there, either taken by surprise due to the attacks, or they stayed behind to fend off the undead hordes long enough to allow the rest of our people to escape. Now, in a dark twist that makes me shudder, they have joined the ranks of the walking dead.

Many of us have wondered if there is a chance to study who from our history might be still wandering the depths of Lower Guk, and what might be learned by discovering this information. I am to accompany a group of adventurers who are currently resting here within Gukta, and I will see if I can learn this information. We leave at dawn.It took some time, but we were able to make it to a small chamber near a few precarious walkways. It was here that we found the first interesting member of the cursed frogloks. As we rested, we began to hear a sound off in the distance. It first sounded as if it came from above us, then it seemed to circle around to the sides of our small camp. It seemed like it was looking for a weakness in our defense. Then, suddenly, it was silent – we heard nothing more. When we were ready to leave, we began to look for the source of the sound, but could not locate it. Just when we had given up, a black-colored froglok ghoul leapt at us from the shadows, and directly at our warrior. He was just fast enough to deflect the attack and together we were able to beat the creature back. However, I always had the feeling it was there… watching us, just out of sight.

Further in, we found another strange room, where it seemed like the ghouls themselves would not even enter. We could hear a strange sound coming from it – something like a breathing, but more like a constant hiss, and the sound of rushing wind, almost as if something inside could not remain still, and moved incredibly fast. We approached cautiously, but it became evident that whatever we had heard, had heard us as well. We were instantly set upon by a creature of tremendous speed. It was a ghoul like the others, but was blindingly fast. It seemed chaotic in its attacks as well – one of us would be hit, then suddenly another would feel the sting of the creature’s unrelenting attacks. We were able to land a magical shackle on the beast, which caused it to howl in anger. Immediately we fled the area – this creature proved to be too mighty for our group, and we hoped to leave it behind us.Finally, we came upon the throne room. Fighting our way through, we spied the dais and throne on the far side of the room. We dispatched the guards, and before us we could see what appeared to be the ruler of Lower Guk – the Ghoul Lord. Once a noble paladin of Marr, this creature is now twisted and corrupt, only a shell of what it once used to be. We engaged the beast at my urging, as I thought it would be best to end the eternal suffering of this once noble froglok and hopefully return his spirit to Marr. We were not ready for the strength of this opponent in darkness, he had grown stronger. He felled our warrior nearly immediately, and it was all we could do to parry off his strikes, and carry our comrade to safety. We escaped with our lives, but truly, the curse of Ykesha is still strong within the depths of Lower Guk.

Chronicle of Gromok, Volume II


At the height of victory it happened, I know not what fearful deities are responsible, nor what ancient magics were unleashed on my people and our brethren races of the Rallosian Empire. I know only what I myself witnessed at the accounts of the other survivors of what is spoken of only as The Curse. The first signs I saw of the curse were angry shouts of ogre magi when the planar portals closed. Then the screams of those same magi as fire simultaneously ignited from within their bodies leaving only memories and ashes.
Shortly after witnessing the demise of the magi stationed at the Fortress of Krithgor a battered legion unit arrived at the fortress gates. The soldiers brought word of Murdunk’s dishonorable death, accusing The Rathe of cursing Murdunk to fall from a cliff at the site of The Rathe’s execution. They spoke of the disappearances of many great Ogre war leaders, including Murdunk’s tactician and strategist, Generals Tallon and Vallon, and even the Warlord Rallos Zek. This worn unit of soldiers was relieved of their previous duties by our superiors and stationed at the Fortress of Krithgor. A new Legion Unit was formed from the soldiers that had been stationed there for some time, myself included, and we were charged with completing the duties of the reassigned soldiers.

Days passed swiftly for me as my legion unit traveled to various fortresses and battlefields. The sights revealed to us at each arrival to this day seem unreal. With the great military leaders and the magi dead or missing our fortresses began to fall. The Giants, also crippled with the loss of their magi, retreated deep into the wilderness. The Orcs became obsessed with greed and blood lust, dividing from the Rallosian Empire into petty clans fighting each other over the spoils of the war. The Goblins went mad cowering in the shadows and caverns of Tunaria’s frontiers. We returned after man months to the Fortress of Krithgor to find the once mighty stronghold reduced to rubble like so many of the fortresses we had visited on our patrol.

Whatever creatures had destroyed the fortress had not even spared women and children, their remains lay strewn about the stones that once formed the strongholds walls. This was when I gave in to my pride and accepted that the Rallosian Empire was no more.

Ardathium, Volume III


During one of the greatest battles that Ardathium had mounted against the trolls of Innothule, Countess Viannay fell terminally ill to a foul curse placed upon her by one of the powerful troll shamans, Tjarduugh. Unable to lead her armies and confined to her bed chambers, Countess Viannay handed the reins of her armies to the Viscounts while the high priests struggled to counter the curse. After a mere fortnight of battle, Grenic Drere was the only remaining general of the Che Virtuson and the war had seemed to turn to an inevitable defeat within the clutches of the infectious shadow. His desire to avenge the Countess was overwhelming and upon the final moments of her life, Grenic vowed to fulfill Viannay’s life’s work.
The Countess’ body was to be preserved through the magic of the priests and laid to rest in the grand mausoleum that housed all of Ardathium’s heroes in the highest tower of the fortress. In the largest chamber of the tower mausoleum, Countess Viannay’s body was placed upon a raised platform of alabaster and gold. She was dressed in ceremonial garb of silk and chain-linked armor and held beneath her hands, folded over her breast, was the hilt of her holy blade. Her body was covered with Soraviene’s Veil – an artifact that would kill any creature whose faith was not solely bound to honor and virtue that dared to touch it.

With the Countess laid to rest, Grenic ascended to hold the title of count over all of Ardathium. His vow to his mistress would become the consuming goal that gave meaning to his life. Two massive campaigns would be launched beneath Grenic’s command against the trolls.

The loss of their Countess had fueled a passion that acted as an impenetrable shield upon all souls of the Che Virtuson, and they were victorious. The troll warlord, a shadowknight known as Kzurott, and his forces were pushed out of the plains upon the first campaign, and the second would lead to the knight’s demise. However, this victory would seem hollow, for Tjarduugh, the high shaman that had ended the life of their beloved Countess, remained and much of the troll army stood.

1st Lieutenant Dergud, 289 AS


1st Lieutenant Dergud, 289 AS
Second Edition

This is the journal of a very important Lieutenant in the Second Rallosian Empire.

Day 107, 289 AS: This world has not known the Rallosians for many centuries. It is time for the world to remember. We no longer suffer the curse of the Rathe. Now we will have our vengeance upon Norrath. The warning horns have been sounded for five hours. I have never heard anything more beautiful.

Day 120, 289 AS: The Feerrott has been our homeland for centuries. Nature has reclaimed it in our absence. We have returned. We will take it back. The bones of walking ancestors will no longer disturb the living as the Army moves forward.

Day 140, 289 AS: The General leads us to the south. I am not aware of our direction, but I have instructed my soldiers that they are to destroy everything they see. We have sighted more lizardmen. They have been destroyed.

Day 160, 289 AS: The Avatar walks with us and tells us that we will be given even more help. We do not need help. We are the Rallosian Empire. We do not subjugate. We do not enslave. We annhilate.

Day 170, 289 AS: The lizardmen have been driven even further south. Many villages have been found and razed, but this is not satisfying. Our goal is not to kill lizards, it to destroy frogs. And then we kill everything else. We are spending too long in our goal. But our soldiers are obedient.

Day 193, 289 AS: The soldiers have been tested today. We have reached the forbidden temple and find it filled with life that must be destroyed. They followed the General’s orders given by me. This makes me proud. They did not kill the tentacle-headed creatures that guarded the temple. This does not make me proud.

Day 199, 289 AS: A week has passed and now we march again. The Avatar and the General spoke with the tentacle-headed creatures. They will not join our force. Their Avatar of Fear has forbidden us from the temple. We are Rallosians, not dogs. We will leave for now. They will pay.

Day 240, 289 AS: My soldiers have reported a cavern leading to a world of nightmares. I have personally ended twenty of their lives. A Rallosian does not fear anything.

Day 241, 289 AS: The General has commanded we are not to go near what he calls the Gate. I do not understand. We are Rallosians. We do as we please. We are Rallosians.

Day 270, 289 AS: The General has explained to me the deal made between the two Avatars back at the temple. I tell him that we do not need the Trolls, even as dogs. He has told me that Second Lieutenant Mugreeza will have more information in her tent. I leave for there now.

The History of Gynok Moltor


The History of Gynok Moltor

Gynok hailed from Qeynos. As a youth he studied under the battle masters of the Steel Warriors. Under the rule of Antonius Bayle II, The Great Defender. He joined the Qeynos Guard and quickly rose in their ranks. It was not long until he was bestowed the title of Captain and appointed Captain of the Tower Guard. Gynok was a great Captain that led many successful campaigns along the Tunarian Coastline. He wielded a Magic sword called the Bone Blood Claymore that he earned in battle against a horde of demons.

It was Gynok’s bigotry towards all non humans that led to the eternal war between the Gnolls and Humanity. The gnolls of Blackburrow sought a peaceful relationship with the humans of Qeynos. Led by the High Shaman Opolla, the gnolls approached Gynok in peace, wishing to establish a treaty between themselves and Qeynos. Gynok was overwhelmed with his hatred of these sub-humans and struck out with his claymore, a unique sword with a blade made of bone. It chopped through Opolla’s hand. The war between the gnolls and humans had begun.

Gynok was stripped of his rank and exiled. The High Shaman of the Gnolls, Opolla, placed a curse upon him and all his descendants. He departed the Kingdom of Qeynos with a small contingency of loyal troops who shared his bigotry. The curse placed upon Gynok brought death to all those around him, as his troops soon learned. Gynok’s death march led him to the foothills of the Commonlands where his lust and skill for battle helped forge his alliance with the Order of Marr’s Fist. Unfortunately for that entire order, Gynok’s curse remained and caused the destruction of them all.