Title Goes Here
Content will go here
Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs

 
 


Pushing Back The Night
Wherein the vampires learn to fear
Dear Madroc and Modroc,

Things have been happening fast since my last letter--too fast, really, for me to keep up. It's kinda like being on that old wagon axle the kobold kids used to ride, where one of us would sit on the wheel and the others would spin it until the one riding fell off.

We finished searching the catacombs under the abbey, and I won't go into what was waiting around for us in the rest of the place. Even remembering that walking skeleton in armor is like having a heart attack. So we opened up the sarcophagus we discovered in the innermost chamber. What we found inside makes me wonder how exactly this Saint Evan ever failed to completely annihilate the vampire horde. Seetha claimed this big (even for her) glowing sword. It's obviously holy, and even though it's lost power over the centuries, as we found out later, it's still got a big punch against anything undead. Korak decided to adapt the armor, found alongside the sword, for his own use. The greaves and arms and whatever else didn't fit him, but the breastplate worked just fine.

Indeed, Korak seems very taken with this human deity, Aesia. Being from a somewhat animistic people, worshipping a goddess whose primary symbol is a sunburst is probbably not much of a theological stretch. After we came back out of the catacombs and spent the night in the settlement with the exiles, he even went so far as to do his morning prayers directly to her.

As for me.... I didn't expect to find anything of use to me in the sarcophagus of a knight, especially a knight who, the legends say, cared for little but the thrill of battle and the glory of victory, at least before his epiphany. But apparently there were those in his company who put their noses in books, and made sure one of them found its way into that coffin. Not only was this fellow an adherent of the droshath, he also was devout enough to receive power from his goddess. I've never heard tell of someone who could use both, before. Anyway, there was lots of useful information in there pertaining to the destruction of undead abominations--and a few choice spells to speed up the process.

But then we returned with our new tools to the exiles' encampment, and someone new was there. I'm still not sure what he was doing there, but he'd heard from the exiles much of what had been going on with the vampire attacks, and with us. So, after seeing what we'd come back with, he decided to accompany all of us back to the village. And off we went. Except somebody kept spotting a gray figure watching us from a distance as we traveled. Turns out, it was the previous owner of the skeleton that had nearly turned us to jelly. I guess he thinks we're okay now, because he gave us his blessing, and asked us to find somewhere fitting that he might rest.

We had tried our very best to make it back into town before another nightfall, but we were too late, by minutes. The vampires were already emerging onto the streets of the village, and standing between us and the townsfolk gathered inside the church. I figured we were done for sure. But then Seetha used the power of the sword as the undead got near, and it was like sunrise twice in one day. Quicker than cat the sun blossomed into a big flower of light, and almost as quick, four vampires were just gone. Disintegrated. And then two more got a dose of the light, and were burnt away. But then the sword's power ended, and we still had three or four more to deal with. It was very lucky, after all, that we found that book. I used two of the spells it contained. It was nowhere near as impressive as the sword, but it still did a number on two of them.

And then the villagers came out, and saw Seetha with the big glowing sword, and plated in armor like a hero from a story, and they thought she was Saint Evan returned, or something. And then, and then, and then. Are you out of breath? I know I am, and I've only been writing! More when I can.

Your friend,
Nibar

From the journal of Nibar The Nervous

Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz