“Crown and stars,
Wolves and slime,
In the heat of wars,
Light grows dim.”
Sooth chanted by the dream of a goblin at Dark Garf Circle"The Way to the Dark Forest remains open in the minds of people and of wolves, and in the dreams of trees.”
Wisdom of THE GREAT WHITE WOLF“We obey our orders. We do not question them. You must do the same.”
General Thorgrim, Bloodwaster“Your life is worth more than what your commanders can buy with it.”
Joke told within RAYLIT’s Mission to the Dwarves“Go home dwarves.
Go home dwarves.
Flerrig for the gnomes.
Flerrig for the gnomes.
“Not our war.
Not our war.
Leave us as we were.
Leave us as we were.
“We helped you.
We helped you.
This is our reward.
This is our reward.”
(Repeat and vary ad nauseam.)
Chant of rebel Gnomes in Flerrig
“We’ve killed a lot of dwarves this month, but it’s time to kill some more! We’ve got a bit of treasure this month, let’s try and get some more! We’ve taken some revenge for the attacks on Trikāf, but it’s time for a lot more! Let’s teach these dwarves that if they try to kick orcish ass, they discover it bites back big time!”
(Wargrider Captain Darion to his Devils)“I offer you Friendship and Tolerance. Others offer you Bigotry and Slaughter.”
Extract from the Creed of RAYLIT Morningstar Dwarf-friend.“O friends, let us be true
To one another! For the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy nor love nor light
Nor certainty, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
Song of the Seer Akilia“If the world is all in the mind, going somewhere you haven’t been before is making it up as you go along."
“We follow twisting paths, seeking after our own truths. But truth can only be found in lies.”
“Chaos is everything and nothing.”
Pearls of wisdom possibly whispered in The Shell
The Hell's Teeth Demigods, Defenders of Hell, gathered again in a secure chamber, possibly somewhere in the Pit of Hell. Or possibly not.
Three tables had been set up to show the strategic position. One showed the Lands of the Underworld, and another the Overworld, but the centrepiece was a detailed map of Hell itself and its approaches, overland and underground. "They draw close," stated JAKK with a sneer almost of satisfaction. The coyote-headed Demigod of Wickedness indicated a group of silver-coloured wooden blocks marked with axes that represented the Dwarves' latest offensive in the Dungeons: Cleaving Axe, the stated aim of which was to carry them to the very Gates of Hell.
"Yes," murmured BARRL, the baleful-eyed Demigod of Malevolence. "It will be soon..."
"It will be a struggle still," observed STRAMMASCH, the six-armed Demigoddess of Violence, pointing with Her spear-wielding arm at the red blocks marked with the half-Sun emblem of the Armies of Hell that stood between the Dwarves and their goal, interspersed with blocks marked with horns, clubs, the heads of three dogs, and tokens of the other Terrors that Hell holds.
STRAMMASCH Herself was busily tidying up a pile of blocks on the overland approach to Hell through the foothills of the Broken Teeth Mountains in the Land of Trikāf. She used Her sword to sweep away scattered blocks marked with axes, chains and Suns of SARAN, and some irregularly-cut black ones, whilst using a free arm to stack differently-coloured blocks marked with wolves' heads, and some blood-red ones marked with Her own emblem of six beweaponed arms. Picking up the wolf blocks, She then repositioned them on the master map of the Underworld. Here in the Land of Trikāf the passes through the Broken Teeth Mountains were dominated by black blocks marked with red symbols of ALTIS and HAERIM, but the plains were dominated by three stacks of black blocks: one with the symbol of ZAKEL on the town of Terz and two with Her own six-arms symbol stacked on the towns of Kner and Ved...
...where the scene was mirrored in the Tower of the Citadel of Ved. Here the orc Warlord Azord stood with the half-orcish Pamadan, High Priestess of STRAMMASCH, his Generals Hoag and Drez and the Mercenary General Xarsh around a table on which was displayed a much cruder map of South-Eastern Trikāf, the Ash Waste, Broken Teeth and the Gums and Far Hills.
"We have defeated the Dwarves here and here," he announced, using a throwing knife he had been twirling to point at the road from the Troll Pass to Kner and the gorge of the River Sarif through the hills East of Ved. "Our allies from Harrig have defeated them here and here," and now he indicated the Troll and Wolf passes through the Broken Teeth. "The Forces of Hell have defeated them here," and he indicated a point in the far South where the Broken Teeth bit into the Mountains of Hell. "Nowhere have they shown any great strength. The majority of their troops have been Evil/Lawful orcs taken prisoner in the Dungeons and the Fall of Heaven. Interrogation reveals these orcs were promised land of their own here in Trikāf. Yet they never made any serious attempt to take us here in Ved. My swift capture of the city must have taken them by surprise..." (At this his Generals made grunts of approval.) "...but their main thrust appears to have been down through the Gums Hills, where they established Teleport Points to bring in further raiding parties. But they haven't Teleported in a proper army. Why is that?"
"They're scared we'll whip their hairy arses," scoffed Hoag, to a chorus of rough laughter. Only Pamadan did not join in.
"Dwarves are not cowards," she snorted. "Arrogant, bone-headed, ready to let others do their dirty work, yes, but they're never afraid of a good fight. You have to give them that."
"Maybe their army is still to appear," suggested Xarsh. "Our scouts and spies would have spotted it by now if it was in the field already."
"So I would expect," replied Azord. "But we must remain ready for an attack anywhere. From that upstart Drobag in Terz, if not from the Dwarves. And Dirhjg is still out there somewhere," (he indicated the general area of the Ash Waste) "plotting to take back Ved. But it's looking more and more like this whole invasion was never more than a diversionary attack. What do the Dwarves really want? They want their Axe back, right? The one that was stolen from them and they say Lord HALKI displays in His Treasure Chamber. They've taken back Heaven, and now they want to storm the Gates of Hell! How does invading Trikāf help with that?"
"They almost reached Hell by the Broken Teeth," pointed out Drez.
"That was the diversion," replied Azord. "Now we hear their big offensive is in the Dungeons. How many troops have they drawn away to deal with them here in Trikāf?"
"At least it's saved us having to send orcs to fight in the Dungeons," observed Pamadan. "We need to keep playing up the threat."
"Yes," agreed Azord. "I bet Drobag isn't sending any volunteers. And Dirhjg doesn't even have to pay tribute anymore."
"What about the story they were after the mithril mines?" asked Xarsh.
"There isn't any mithril in the Broken Teeth," replied Azord. "But let the rumours spread. It helps play up the threat."
"So who do we fight?" asked a somewhat bemused Hoag. "Good question!" approved Pamadan.
"We are still fighting the Dwarven invaders," declaimed Azord, throwing his knife into the table, where it quivered in Flerrig. "There are still plenty of them to clear out of Trikāf, and we need to destroy any possible Teleport points. Our main thrust is now into the Far Hills. They've set up camps and a supply route there, and Dirhjg is somewhere out there too."
"But we watch our backs," said Pamadan, "or Drobag will put a knife in them. Now, have we finished here? I have prisoners to impale."
"Yes dear," said Azord. "Have fun"...
Meanwhile, DAELOTH, the black-clad Demigoddess of Terror was busily setting up blocks in the Land of Flerrig. "Such sweet, sweet terror here!" She purred, placing a piece to represent the Bairguba internment camp...
...Bokí lay in the undergrowth on the ridge-top above Bairguba and observed the camp. Once this was a Gnomish village - his village. Then the Dwarves came. They said there was a war on, and that Evils and Chaotics were a security risk. Most of the villagers were Chaotic; DALA-worshippers most of them. So the Dwarves rounded them all up, and turned their own homes into a prison, surrounding it with razor wire, building watchtowers, and putting them under armed guard. Then they started marching in prisoners from elsewhere in Flerrig; Evil and Chaotic gnomes who were also deemed potential terrorists, though most of them had just been peacefully living their lives. Work parties were organised, and the prisoners forced to fell trees and build more huts to accommodate the newcomers.
The frightened prisoners were terrified that they would be murdered or tortured for information they did not have. Bokí smiled grimly as he recalled this. For it was he, along with the DALA Clerics, who had encouraged these rumours. Although conditions were cramped and insanitary, the Dwarves had not actually mistreated the detainees all that badly, and had shown no interest in interrogating them. But Gnomes love their freedom, and none more so than Chaotic Gnomes, and this imprisonment for no reason other than Alignment affronted them deeply. Bokí and his allies had played on these sentiments. As a TERRIK-worshipper and sometime Hellish spy and agitator, the Dwarves were playing right into his hands. The massacre of the SARAN-worshipping Hill Dwarf village of Tumunbizar, to the North of here, had only helped stir up the mutual resentment and fear. Initial rumours had blamed it on WAGREN-worshipping Gnomes. Although the official line was now that it was carried out by orcish wargriders, nobody believed the authorities any more. The best story Bokí had heard was that it was carried out by Mountain Dwarves, in order to create an atrocity to justify their round-up of Evil and Chaotic Gnomes. He wished he had thought that one up himself.
Nine days ago, he recalled, the camp was attacked by rebel Gnomes, with whom Bokí had secretly been in contact. He led the prisoners in a co-ordinated revolt, and several hundred of them escaped in a mass breakout. Maybe a third or so of the escapees were captured in the subsequent round up and brought back to Bairguba. Others either escaped, were murdered or taken elsewhere. Looking down at the camp, Bokí estimated there were something under a thousand men, women and children still imprisoned, guarded by some 50 to 100 Dwarves.
This time he would do the job properly...
"And here is more bitterness", growled BARRL, the pointed-toothed Demigod of Malevolence, as he stood over the map of the Overworld, stroking a polished black block marked with a crown dripping blood. He was studying the Jungle Coast, on the Eastern shores of the Great Ocean. Here were three trading ports: Port Kambo, Port Harawi and Port Daruo. Green blocks, representing the Goblin army that had stormed, raped and pillaged its way through all three ports this Spring, lay scattered in the sea and surrounding jungle, and little wooden ships holding blocks representing the Combined Fleets of Kuntax, the Southern Cities and the Valdrean freelance adventurers were now positioned on the retaken ports. A couple of surviving Goblin ships were positioned up the shallow waters of the River Daruo. It appeared this campaign was now over, with the Great Goblin, Ral-Ksarg defeated, most of his fleet sunk and his troops dead or scattered. But BARRL was still interested in the situation...
...The headhunters of O'Boro watched warily as the strange oared ship docked at their village jetty and the ugly green-skinned people disembarked. Some of them sized up these strange new heads with professional interest. Then the biggest and ugliest of the green men stepped forward. His head was crowned with a compelling piece of gold. As they raised their blowpipes to take it, the big man spoke.
"Friends, I see you covet our heads! Fine trophies they would make, it is true. But you would pay dearly to take them, and maybe we would take your scalps instead. Hear me out, and I shall tell you of much greater trophies. Follow me, and I shall deliver to you those who have robbed you of your valuables for a few brightly-coloured beads. We shall trade them back with our axes for their heads!"
The headhunters cheered, caught up in the frenzy of the moment. Ral-Ksarg, Emperor of all the Goblins, carried on with his speech. For this war was far from over yet. His enemies would now be over-confident, and they were far from home...
"Bah!" exclaimed LIAKA, the razor-clawed Demigoddess of Viciousness. "You call that a fight? Take away the Crown of Frenzy, and they're just a bunch of cowardly goblins who run and hide in the jungle. Now Klìn, that was a proper fight!" She held up a large block, marked with two crossed swords and a pair of horns.
"You paid too much for that one," observed BARRL in the sneering tone of which He is master.
"The price is unimportant," said LIAKA dismissively, "what matters is the effect. Besides, soul-stealing partly pays for itself."...
...Daghrosad surveyed the ruins of his workshop. It was little more than a burnt-out shell, and the lack of weaponry and armour lying around indicated it had been well looted. Hardly a surprise, he supposed. Some two weeks of bitter street fighting between the E/L forces of Zert, Warlord of Klìn and the Wizard Yeohrl and the E/C forces of the mercenary Brazh and Kraz Warlord of Vlàger had forced most of the merchants who could to flee Klìn. He had left guards, and paid them relatively well, but with stories of Demons and mercenaries wielding soul-sucking swords, in addition to the usual ghosts, wererats and local thugs and thieves, it was hardly surprising if they had deserted. Possibly they had even died at their posts. Well, maybe not. He hadn't paid them that much, after all.
He beckoned to a scrawny beggar, flashing a gold piece. The orc scampered over surprisingly quickly, considering he had apparently had no legs only just now. "I need workers," said Daghrosad. "This place needs to be rebuilt, and the armoury re-opened. I have gold. Spread the rumour, and you will be rewarded."
"Ah, Guv'nor," replied the beggar in a town of infinite sadness, "good workers are hard to come by in this town. Many were slaughtered by BOTIS, Demon of Swords, and if He did not get their souls, the wights did. Anyone left standing who could wield a taper axe was then press-ganged by Zert and marched off to meet the threats from Fazer, Warlord of Khôm and the Elvish invasion..."
"Yes, yes," interrupted Daghrosad, "I'm not buying rumours here. It seems to me that with all this fighting and recruiting they are going to need a good armourer more than ever. And where else will they go for those 'special' items that only I can provide? Just spread the word, and I think we will find that the workers will come."
"If only it were that easy," said the beggar regretfully. "The word would need to reach some high places, beyond the reach of your humble servant. Bribes would need to be paid, expenses incurred..."
"One hundred gold upfront, and one for each worker recruited," countered the master armourer.
The beggar rubbed his hands in anticipation, and hunkered down for a good haggle.
"If that's all, then," interrupted the Planist who had brought Daghrosad, "I will be taking my leave. I have places to visit, people to see."
"Yes," replied Daghrosad, "I believe I can take it from here. And thank you, Zen, for your assistance. Give me say two weeks, and I should be in limited production again."
"That is good," replied Zenemix, "and remember - you owe me." With that, he and his bodyguard Teleported out.
Daghrosad sighed. Everybody thought he owed them. It was only a matter of time before the buyers from Hell turned up. With his luck, it would be the LIAKA fanatics. They would not let little things like a civil war and total destruction of production facilities stand in the way of a binding contract...
PHANTOM, the black-cowled Demigod of Ghosts stretched silently across and placed another shroud-white block on Klìn. Despite the fact that white blocks were already placed on most Underworld cities, and a number of Overworld ones (notably Gorreth on Kyr), as well as a large number on Hell and the Dungeons, PHANTOM still had plenty left in stock...
...The Being known as The Black Spectre floated in the centre of a Dark Circle. A captured Dwarf had been stripped naked and chained to the central altar stone by his minions. At a gesture from the Black Spectre an Orc cleric drew a serrated dagger across the Dwarf's throat, splattering blood across the Circle. Before the precious life force could drain away, the Black one plunged his spectral hands into the Dwarf's heart and fed. There was still plenty of life to suck dry in this one. The Spectre drank deeply of the prisoner's fears and nightmares - so bitterly sweet.
When the Dwarf eventually died, he drew out its Spectre. Controlling it in a second, he sent it on a circuit of the totem stones of the Dark Circle.
He paused the Dwarf-Spectre at the Snake Totem and savoured the dark emotions emanating from the stone. A whole community of YSSA-worshippers cried out for revenge from beyond the grave. Dwarves, Gnomes and their Orc slaves had fallen upon these hunters and farmers, slaughtered them and fed them to the Creeping Death. Yet some still lived (he noted with some regret) - a few druids and thieves had escaped. The Black Spectre resolved to speak to the Beastmasters about this. The Snake Cultists would be useful allies against the Druids of the Keragund.
The Wolf Totem was always worth scrying. The Black Spectre felt a certain affinity with these hunters of the night. His favourites were the wargs - wild spirits muzzled and controlled by the will of others, and the werewolves - spirits constrained but liable to break out and overwhelm their hosts. He could hear them crying out in the night. They would feed upon blood. The Red Wolf faction he had observed a while back now seemed to be gone, or perhaps subsumed in the whole, but there was still much Chaos in this Totem he noted.
Finally he came to the Organism Totem. This one had grown in power in recent months. Many more souls had been consumed. He briefly considered whether the Ghosts might have a rival, but dismissed the idea. Organisms were too mindless and lacked that pure craving for life that drove the Ghosts. Without Druids to direct them, they were not a serious threat, and the Dwarf Druids were too few. The Black Spectre concentrated on the souls. Many were weak (orcs no doubt), having chosen to become black blobs of slime rather than submit to the sweet release of death. Many more had not been given the choice. He focussed on the dark heart of the Totem. There were older souls here, who had voluntarily submitted to the slimes, and were at peace. They had power, these ones. They sensed his scrying and forced him back. The Dwarf Spectre gibbered and cowered. But the Black one was undeterred. Here was something he could use...
..."May I remind everyone," interjected JAKK, the not-to-be-trusted Demigod of Wickedness, "that, entertaining as they may be, all these campaigns are but diversions by both (or maybe all three) sides. We are Hell's Teeth: the Defenders of Hell. The whole point of all this is that Hell is to be attacked, at last. Having waited and plotted so long for this, We had better make damned sure that We are victorious."
"Letting those mithril mines fall into the hands of the Dwarves was a big risk," observed LIAKA scathingly.
"Not for those of Us Who had stockpiled in anticipation," JAKK reminded Her.
"Do We have enough troops left?" asked STRAMMASCH, who had been counting wooden blocks.
"Do the Dwarves?" countered JAKK. "They cannot replace losses as easily as Orcs."
"Do We have an answer yet to the Creeping Death?" asked DAELOTH.
"The gold-plated breastplates and shields have been effective," replied JAKK, "but the real turning point has been the desertion of the Keragund from the Dwarven Armies as they have been sucked into the conflicts in Flerrig. The so-called Creeping Death will still cause some terror, but it is no longer the decisive force it once was."...
...Declin stood amidst the battleground of the second mithril mine and watched the Black Puddings clean up orc corpses. His tour of duty was almost up, and he could not see himself volunteering for another term. The victories the Keragund had achieved for the Dwarves with their Organisms had raised the status of Druids and Gnomes amongst the Mountain and Hill Dwarves, but now the Evils were beginning to develop countermeasures, and the remaining Keragund were running out of new ideas. There were also the atrocities that they had been compelled to participate in. Declin prided himself on being a pragmatist, and realised that war inevitably involved some unpleasantness, but there were a number of incidents that weighed heavily on the consciences of himself and his colleagues. True, they were subject to military discipline, and the SARAN Paladins would have killed them if they had refused to follow orders. But, as the Creed said, two wrongs do not make a right.
Nor could he ignore the plight of his fellow Gnomes back in Flerrig. The Keragund of the Shining Caves of Flerrig had taken a stand, and issued a proclamation, challenging the legitimacy of the occupation of the Caves by the Dwarves, denying the Caves as a Teleport Gateway, announcing their own dispersal to their outlying Sacred Sites, and condemning the massacre at Tumunbizar. Many of his colleagues had already received their discharges, and were now actively protecting refugees and hunting down Hellish invaders who were stirring up trouble between Gnomes and Dwarves. There was good work to be done back in Flerrig, and maybe a chance to atone for past sins.
"Declin!" shouted General Thorgrim Bloodwaster. "Get your hairless gnomish arse over here! We have an attack to plan."
With a sigh, Declin turned and headed back to the War. Hopefully, this would be his last battle...
I have extended the meta time to run the game month of Jerem 2504 to the end of March 2005. To bring the experience claim backlog up to date, I have also declared an experience claim amnesty. Any claims submitted by 13 November 2004 and not processed by me are agreed. Players should let me know if they require rulings on any points (e.g. Clerical credit), and then update their character spreadsheets (preferably by adding the new experience to the formulae, so as to provide a record in case of later queries). Any outstanding experience claims for Sarm 2504 and plots for Jerem 2504 should be submitted.
For the latest news and all the detail from the Season So Far, remember to visit the rumourmonger.
© P.R. Wild, 13 November / 19 December 2004
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