Hell's Teeth: Darkness Rising
“We’ve got five score incoming ChaosWolves. Give me a shout when you’re ready.”
Féarn to Simalen“The Wolves of Chaos speak false,
The Stone of Lore holds true.
The Web of Stars shall run its course,
The Hall of Mirrors shall review.”
An Oracle from the Isle of Dreams"You wouldn’t want to get on my wrong side in Nightmare."
Zsara, Champion of KASHAT"You seem foolishly determined, and My Servants have better things to do than mop your blood off the floor, and dead sailors have enough difficulty holding a drink – let alone a mop. Maybe I might be persuaded to take a bribe."
Davy Jones to Akilia"There are Those who seek to mislead the Grasslanders away from the old ways of ORIL. Beware, however, dismissing Them as squandering the Grasslands, for They can be subtle, and will tempt with rewards to lure people to follow Them."
TIPRE, in Commune“This is Madness, but I suppose that was the idea.”
Farin, Elder of the Keragund of the Shining Caves“I ask of you, My followers, a difficult task. I ask you to show Friendship to those who would spurn it. I ask you to show Tolerance to those who have little tolerance for you.
“Yet the Extremes may pass the tipping point. They become so extreme that They can tolerate no opposites, no middle ground, no differences. My followers, this is where the path of friendship and tolerance must end and resistance must take over. You must stand firm against the excesses of Extremism.
“There is one Extreme that despises life itself and reduces it to a vile perversion. This is Extremism in its most abhorrent form. I execrate SOROK and all His minions. You shall not tolerate His foul creatures.”
From the Creed of RAYLIT"Look what happened to the Northwestern Forests. That should be a lesson to us here. Creating Links between Circles is one thing. But opening all those paths in and out of Madness, that is quite another. Moving along them, maybe, carefully, if one has the Power to do so; but opening them up? Not in this place, oh no!"
Thoughts of Féarn on observing the North East Forest"The Circles always have both a Light and a Dark Side, but it is important that an equilibrium is maintained."
Elodar of the Calaquendi"Much like pruning roses, suppressing something just tends to encourage it to grow."
From ‘A History of Chaos in the Valdrean Empire’ by Tandrys the Wise (banned in the Valdrean Empire)“There has been much growth here of late. But all living things need a rest and a time to renew. I am here to lower the sap, encourage the rut, and prepare for Winter.
AUTUMNUS, Demigod of Autumn
The Wolf howled as She placed Her Totem in Dreams...
The pack of Chaos-Werewolves swept through the Dreamlands. As they went, the pack leader, who once was named Radino or some such, mused of places he had been in some previous life or dream. They hungered to bring Chaos to a World that seemed too orderly and restraining of their wild freedom to do whatever the fancy took them - regardless of such petty constraints as consequences. Here in Dreams they were as free as their imagination, and ready to appear wherever they imagined.
From amidst the pack a Chaos-wolf, who once had perhaps been the Shell of Prophecy (or was that the Stone of Lies?), howled like a tornado, and the others danced to its tune. The leader neither knew nor cared whether they had replaced the Stone of Prophecy in Khalkan-Jho with the Shell of Lies (or was it the other way round?). All that mattered was that the tale had been told.
The whirlwind of their desires howled for retribution against the Lawfuls - those Dwarves, Valdrean Nobles and their allies who had sought to constrain and exterminate the pack. This could not be tolerated. The Shell of Prophecy (or Lies) would tell them the way, Radino would find the opening, and they would burst forth to take a terrible revenge.
The Cougar growled as She placed Her Totem in the Mountains...
Borin, who had once been King of the Hill Dwarves (and still was, so far as he was concerned) reviewed his troops. As a Dwarvish Army they were distinctly unimpressive, but as a guerrilla force they should pack a considerable punch.
His forebears had sworn fealty to the Kings of the Mountain Dwarves in accordance with the Pact of Kingship, made back in the Year 1177, which had finally ended the Dwarf Wars. In loyalty to that oath King Borin had led his subjects in support of the House of Dválin and their War on Heaven and Hell. But the Mountain Dwarf King Dválin, consumed with his obsession to take personal revenge upon the Forces of Evil, had sworn some unwise oaths, and his devious sons had sought to build their personal fortunes and to protect their followers at the cost of their allies and the obligations they owed to their sworn subjects. The Pact of Kingship also set out the obligations of the King of All The Dwarves (as it appointed the Mountain Dwarf King) to protect all his subjects. But Hill Dwarves (and Gnomes too) had been ruthlessly sacrificed in the brutal war of attrition in the Dungeons, as the House of Dválin sought to preserve their elite Mountain Dwarves for the final battles - the glory of which (not to mention the profit from the mithril mines) was then denied to the Hill Dwarves.
Borin's subjects had been seething with resentment about these injustices, and then the new Mountain Dwarf King Thráin V (who succeeded to his father's throne after Dválin and elder brother Dáin had gotten themselves killed in the final battle in Hell against the very Balrogs and Demigods Who had goaded Dválin into the reckless attack in the first place) cursorily summoned King Borin to Gabilkhazâd-Dûm to swear fealty to him under the Pact. Borin was no treaty-breaker, but he feared a rebellion from his own subjects if he acceded too readily, and he felt strongly that King Dválin had failed to keep up his side of the bargain. The outbreaks of the Starweb Chaos in the major Hill Dwarf Cities of Tumunzahar and Barrakizdîn (blamed on Radino and his so-called Chaos-Werewolves) gave Borin an excuse to delay. But Thráin responded by sending his Mountain Dwarf Paladins uninvited to Barrakizdîn, on the pretext of securing that sector of the port where their ships were docked, and by blaming Borin for not putting down the Chaotics earlier. This resulted in fighting between the Hill Dwarves and Mountain Dwarves, as well as with the Chaotics, local rioters and Ghosts let loose by the Secret Evil Temples to take advantage of the general state of confusion.
It took a further week (and three weeks in total) for the Hill Dwarves to put down the Chaotics and Ghosts in Barrakizdîn, but the Mountain Dwarves then refused to stand down their guard in the docks. King Thráin sent King Borin a message of congratulations on his suppression of the Chaotic Starweb, and once again summoned him to Gabilkhazâd-Dûm to swear fealty. This time Thráin even had the effrontery to state a date: 1 Garrack, and to make sure it was announced to Borin's subjects. This thinly-disguised ultimatum, whilst Thráin's Paladins still occupied a strategic part of one of Borin's major cities, further enraged Borin. He responded that he was exhausted and recovering Spell Points and was praying his thanks to SARAN after the recent battles against the Chaotics. All of this was true, but he was really trying to buy time for a diplomatic outcome, whilst demonstrating to his Hill Dwarf subjects that he was not simply the lackey of the Mountain Dwarf King.
Unfortunately, fighting then broke out in Tumunzahar and in Borin's capital of Taramkhazâd-Dûm as well as around the Barrakizdîn docks. Some Hill Dwarves (mostly the more fanatical Lawfuls or schemers seeking to profit from siding against Borin) even supported Thráin's Mountain Dwarves. Thráin's Binders imposed a Teleport Block on Taramkhazâd-Dûm, and before he knew it Borin found himself besieged in his Citadel, with his Binders reporting that most of Barrakizdîn and Tumunzahar were already under Thráin's control. Thráin and his devious brother Prince Náin must have been planning for this for some time, even though Borin had intimated through diplomatic channels that he would swear fealty subject to certain conditions that would save face for him with his subjects; principally an express affirmation from Thráin of the clauses of the Pact regarding his obligations to the Hill Dwarves and Gnomes. Borin's Royal Guard and Binders advised that they detected the hand of Hellish Troublemakers in the rapid escalation of the conflict, but there was little Borin could do about that with a Fourth Dwarf War on his hands.
Borin's diplomacy finally bore some fruit when his
Ambassador in Valdrea persuaded the Emperor Arril I to intervene. A
one week ceasefire was agreed as Arril attempted to broker a settlement
between Thráin's and
Borin's envoys at the Temple of SARAN on
Earth. But Thráin insisted that Borin first swear fealty, and then they
could discuss Borin's concerns as liege lord and vassal. Borin retorted by
demanding an apology and reparations for the attack on his cities, which was
in flagrant breach of the Pact of Kingship, before he would swear fealty.
Possibly suggesting that the mithril from the Hellish mines could be used
for reparations had been a mistake, Borin now reflected.
Negotiations had broken down, and when the
ceasefire expired
Thráin's
Mountain Dwarf army (Teleportaled in during the
ceasefire) promptly stormed Taramkhazâd-Dûm. They took
the great underground halls, but Borin held the Citadel.
Then came the worst betrayal of all. The Gates of the Citadel were opened to the Mountain Dwarves in the sector defended by Borin's younger brother Dorin and his troops. Borin, his most trusted followers and elite bodyguard had to blow Pacts to escape. Dorin (so Borin's spies reported) surrendered to Thráin, who installed him as puppet Hill Dwarf King (despite his elder brother, the legitimate King, still being alive) and he swore fealty to Thráin without preconditions. Dorin and the other Hill Dwarf turncoats were now ruling in Taramkhazâd-Dûm, but in Thráin's name as King of All The Dwarves. So far as Borin was aware, the Pact of Kingship remained in force (as nobody but him had asserted it was broken), but Thráin surely only paid lip-service to it.
Borin was declared a traitor and outlaw for rebelling against the King of All Dwarves (despite the fact that Thráin had been first to take up arms against him). A bounty of 10,000 Mithril Pieces had been offered for his head (so it appeared there were at least some things Thráin was prepared to spend his precious mithril upon.) Borin and his followers were now holed up in the mountain fastness of the Hill Dwarf heartlands, and were gathering their army of liberation, whilst directing a passive resistance campaign in the cities. Dorin would pay the price for a violent betrayal.
The Rat chittered as She placed Her Totem in the Valley...
Lëomehtar of the Nyarrolië was Orc-hunting. The mountainous terrain of the Gakkil-Zelg rising above the Caspian Gorge provided perfect cover for him and his fellow High Elf Rat Cultists as they scuttled from rock to rock picking off Orcs with surprise bowshots. It was great fun, and he was even getting paid by the Goblins for doing it!
The initial approach had come through the Thieves' Guilds (with which the Rat Cult had always had a close relationship). The message said that the Greater Orcish Empire of the Underworld had torn up the non-aggression pact negotiated with the former Great Goblin Ral-Ksarg (who, as the Elves well knew, was really Glersh the Dread) and had invaded the Goblin Lands via the Ladder of the Orcs. The Goblins were appealing to the Evil Elves for Druidic mercenaries, and were prepared to pay in gold and gems. The Rat Cult were pleased to answer their call.
It soon became clear that the Goblins were split into a number of factions, which were fighting each other in the power vacuum left by Ral-Ksarg's disappearance in the Jungle, whilst at the same time trying to put together a united front against the Orcs. The Elvish mercenaries made sure they were always paid in advance.
The Goblins suffered dearly for their disunity in the opening pitched battle, where the well-drilled Orcs soundly defeated the numerically superior but uncoordinated Goblin hordes. The Elves acted as skirmishers, providing some archery support, but stayed well out of the slaughter.
The Orcs then advanced down the Caspian River Valley, their eyes shielded from the desert sun by a dark cloud. This was no doubt produced by Demon Summoning, as attempts to disperse it by Weather Control proved largely ineffective. They camped by day and moved by night. The Elves joined with the Kobolds and Goblins (and the few Hobgoblins prepared to adopt more flexible tactics) in mounting hit and run guerrilla attacks upon the Orcs, trying to lure them away into ambushes, and concentrating on their supply lines and advancing reinforcements. This gave excellent hunting for a month or so.
Eventually the Orcs learned not to respond to the provocation, and instead deployed their own thievish scouting parties on counter-missions. The Elves rather enjoyed the greater challenge, as the Orcs had some competent thieves, but the Kobolds and Goblins found it rather harder to adapt to being the hunted as well as the hunters.
Of course, guerrilla tactics were never going to stop a determined army that did not care about casualties, could reinforce by Teleportal and could even eat their own dead. The Orcs continued their remorseless advance down the Caspian River Valley until they were now threatening the Hobgoblin heartland in the Gorge. From what Lëomehtar had heard, they had even made a surprise raid upon the Hobgoblin City of Gûl-Vlersch, though he did not see quite how they could have caused any more casualties than the Hobgoblins were already inflicting on each other.
The Nyarrolië were now operating in the foothills of the Gakkil-Zelg, seeking out the camps established by the Orcish raiding and scouting parties. These mountains were riddled with caves dug by their Goblin inhabitants, where the Orcs could hole up during the night. The Elves let their Goblin guides go in to attack them in the caves, whilst they concentrated on picking off Orc sentries by day and parties that moved in the open by night. No quarter was given or asked for in this vicious conflict.
The Scorpion made no sound as He placed His Totem in the Desert...
The Most Hateful Inquisitor Razzâg of the Army of the Most Hateful Inquisition of HAERIM in Harrig grinned malevolently as he watched the clash of the two Orcish armies in the midst of the worthless ash desert of the Blasted Lands. It mattered not at all who won. The land was of no use even to Orcs and the war was far too small-scale to cause any significant casualties to the Land of Harrig or their foes the Great Orcish Empire. The point was simply to put some more coals on the fire of an age-old feud.
This latest flare up started when the Orcish Emperor (may his enemies poison him), needing a new war to keep his fighters occupied after the defeat of the Dwarves in the Dungeons and in Trikāf, had fallen back on that old standby of attacking the Goblins of the Overworld. The Army of the Most Unholy Inquisition of ALTIS in Harrig (may they ever be Cursed) took advantage of this to cross the mountains into the Blasted Lands. They also had to keep their own troops from fighting each other, and there was a long list of slights to be avenged (Razzâg was rather proud of his inventiveness with that list.).
Of course the Emperor (may he choke on his own vomit) then had to send an army to recover his territory and punish them for their insolence. Even better, he accused the Most Unholy Inquisition (may their sores fester) of being in league with the Goblins. No doubt the HAERIM Priesthood in the Empire had suggested this one to him, the Emperor (may his concubines all have syphilis) being far too stupid to come up with such a good insult on his own. The Highest Priest of ALTIS in Harrig (may rats gnaw his testicles) took this as badly as might be hoped, and sent in reinforcements to punish the Emperor (may his piles bleed) for his insolence. The Army of the Most Hateful Inquisition of HAERIM in Harrig were pleased to answer the Highest Priest of ALTIS's (may he step on a scorpion) request for assistance, and sent Razzâg with some troops to support their ALTIS brothers. The HAERIM force was carefully chosen to be just small enough to be insulting whilst still big enough to defend itself if necessary.
There had now been several battles, and some suitably pyrrhic victories on both sides. Land had been gained and lost. Retaliation was required. More troops were required for the slaughter. Both sides were recruiting in the Place of Mercenaries in Ashazôrg. It was indeed a most malevolent feud.
The Organism moaned as He placed His Totem in the Forest...
Arador, Champion of Carrilon led the Young Firebrands into battle against the Cold Ghosts, wielding the Flame of Carrilon. These Undead seemed to be fairly Fire Resistant, but that was okay because his sword did a lot of Fire Damage. Arador had recently defeated his father in a nominal Duel for the Championship of the Valdrean Noble House of Carrilon and had issued a Challenge to the Emperor Arril I of Tarm to a Duel for the Lion Throne, to be held 4 Yarom. So he was here in the North East Forest to gain as much experience as he could before the Duel. His companions were all similarly armed with Magic Flaming Swords purchased by their Houses from Nima of Fort Venture and competing sources. The Seven Swords of Valdrea were not enough to go round all the Noble Houses, and several had now armed their rising stars with these "Big Flamers" as each mounted its own challenge for the Emperorship. The soubriquet of the "Young Firebrands" was originally applied by their detractors in the Houses that traditionally held Swords, but the group had defiantly adopted it as their own. No doubt Arador would eventually find himself up against one of his present companions, but for now they fought side by side.
There were certainly plenty of these Cold Ghosts for them to fight. Intriguingly some of them were not just ghostly humans or dwarves, but had the shapes of wolves or bears. The Elves said they were the Ghosts of Werewolves and Werebears, which had long been fighting the Ghosts here in the North East Forest. The Ghosts of people wielded spectral Swords of Cold, but the wolves and bears mostly just attacked with incorporeal teeth and claws. There were even said to be some Ghost Black Puddings out there, the result of some Evil revenge attack upon those Gnomish Druids who had supplied the Black Puddings for the War on Heaven and Hell in the Dungeons.
The Cold Ghosts had swarmed out of the North East Forest in unprecedented numbers with the early onset of Winter, forcing the local Gnomes of the Gaprillîkii (as the locals called the Gaprill river valley) to flee upstream. The village of Kro, at the edge of the deep Forest, was first to fall and the front line was now at the wretched-looking village of Mind, about 150 miles upstream. The locals had been reinforced by a mix of adventurers like the Young Firebrands, High Elf Druids and KOROS Clerics, who were here to fight the Undead with their Holy Garnet of KOROS, which shone with a purple light that incinerated the low-level Ghosts, Turned the medium-level ones, and just left the really high-level ones for Arador and the others to combat.
The Elves said they were here to protect the Forest - though as far as Alador could see the trees weren't in danger. It was just the wildllife that was being Ghosted. They had held out under siege from the Cold Ghosts for some time at the Hidden Grove; some kind of sacred site of the local human Druids deeper in the woods. But when the numbers of Ghosts became too overwhelming even for the Holy Garnet (or, Arador had heard, the Clerics were insisting on moving it to the Gaprillîkii to shield the refugees rather than the trees), the High Elf Tree Druids had walked the trees of the Hidden Grove through a Teleportal to a new site way upstream somewhere. Arador imagined that must have been quite impressive, as Druidic Magic went.
For now, though, he had Ghosts to fight. The village of Mind was fortified with a ditch and rampart surmounted by a wooden palisade, and the Holy Garnet of KOROS had been positioned atop a high watchtower by the downstream gate. Most of the local gnomish population had been evacuated by now, and the village was occupied by the adventurers, KOROS Clerics and a few Druids. The trees had been chopped down by the former population for several miles around, and the Ghosts just came by night. Patrols were sent out by day to hunt them down in local copses, caves and farms, but their numbers by night were still such as to threaten to overwhelm the defences. Arador was going to do what he could to prevent that - and if that wasn't enough, he would at least have gained some useful experience for his forthcoming Duel.
The Coyote cackled as He placed His Totem on the Plains...
As the sun went down in Mt. Anar on the last day of Autumn and darkness fell over the Grasslands, a small band of Mist Warriors gathered at the Eastern Plains Circle of totem poles. Whilst his followers capered and rapped on their drums in the Coyote Dance, the Coyote Guardian gobbled down the peyote cactus and opened his mind to the trance state...
...and out of the darkness a creature came.
"We bang the drums, COYOTE He comes", chanted the Coyote Guardian.
And COYOTE replied:
"Bear he hides in the dark,
Raven he lets out a 'quark!'.
Eagle he is broken under stone,
Buffalo his day is done.
Deer the elves saved from the mire,
Cougar she was caught in fire,
COYOTE He grows ever slyer."
COYOTE then slunk back into the shadows behind a stone, and a series of visions appeared to the Guardian as the hallucinogen opened up his mind... a pack of brightly-coloured dogs ran out of the Wolf Totem. let out a terrible howl, and capered into the Tiger Totem... a dwarf stepped out from behind the Cougar Totem, followed by another dwarf who stabbed him violently in the back... an orc and a goblin came out fighting from the Lizard Totem, and then an elf leapt out of the Rat Totem and shot the orc with a vicious arrow to the head... two more orcs chased each other round the Scorpion Totem, growling malevolently... the Coyote Guardian himself was crowned with a garland of mistletoe before the Coyote Totem.... ghostly shapes emerged from the Organism Totem and flitted across the Circle, some disappearing into the Wolf and Bear Totems whilst others danced around the Spider Totem... a dark bird took wing from the Raven Totem, cawed wickedly as it crapped on the Eagle and Buffalo Totems and flew off into the gathering gloom...
********************
"They love all that mystical stuff", commented JAKK as he appraised the Circle of Totems created in miniature by the Hell's Teeth Demigods on Their wargaming table.
"And it means f**k all", snorted BARRL.
"It means what We want it to mean", snarled LIAKA. "You're just too stupid to see it, darling."
"It means what Dogsbreath wants it to mean," retorted BARRL, "and You, Ratface, are just too stupid to know when You're being played."
"It says to Me that all those little people are just going to keep tearing themselves apart", purred STRAMMASCH.
"Everything says that to You, Pussycat", laughed LIAKA.
"Do You bickering fools not see the darkness rising?" queried DAELOTH.
"Oh, They see it all right," cackled JAKK. "They just can't pass up an opportunity for a bicker."
"And the Ghosstssss will risssssse..." whispered PHANTOM.
"You always say that," complained BARRL. "Maybe if You took that sheet off Your head, You'd see something else to comment on?"
"It's a shroud", corrected JAKK, "and I think You'll find that this time Our incorporeal friend is absolutely correct."
Players should submit their continuing plots for the month of Weven 2504 and any outstanding experience claims for Tekrim 2504.
Rather than require plots to be run within a set meta time limit, I am now stating the date the leading players have run to on the homepage, and will not accept any plot submitted for a date more than 1 month behind the current date. The pace at which game time will move forward will be dictated by the plots of the majority of players and my free time to run those plots.
For the latest news and all the detail from the Season So Far, remember to visit the rumourmonger.
© P.R. Wild, 22 August 2007
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