7 Sands Campaigns
Volume 3: The TORMENT of EVOK NOR
“Revenge will be mine, no matter the price!” —Evok Nor
A Brief Foreword From the Author
This
journal deals with the journeys of Evok Nor following his separation from the
rest of the party at Bartertown as he searched for his two brothers and for a
cure to his curse. Unlike Crag Hack, Evok Nor’s chronicles don’t
care much for chronological dating, as Evok Nor was sometimes in pain for days
on end because of his curse and he lost track of time, especially as the
curse’s power increased. He is also an enraged, bitter character who has mostly
turned himself over to the dark power of Raggok and revenge at this point
against whoever has cursed him. He is a hero slowly turning villain, corrupted
by the curses of an unknown armor and the malignant power of Raggok. The two
sessions talked about here were called Kin and Prophecy. Just a note, Roam Tannin (my first Earthdawn
character) and Mephit Nor (Eugene’s second Earthdawn character) were
originally played in the very first Earthdawn quest Eugene and I played
in and had left their original party to search for treasure in the Servos
Jungle, which is why they are wandering around the Servos Jungle in my game
world.
CAST (PCs and NPC Allies)
In Order of Appearance
EVOK NOR
Player: Eugene James Sherman
Race/Discipline/Circle: Elf Wizard Third Circle/
Nethermancer Second Circle
Homeland: Vors
Passion: Raggok Questor Rank 3
Character History: At Vors was born three brothers,
each fifty years apart. It is most unusual for an elf family to have more than
one child, and the mother and father knew that these three would be most
special. The first-born was Mestoph Nor, the brooding older brother. The
middle-child was Evok Nor, who knew only cruelty from his older brother and
tricks from his younger brother. The youngest was Mephit Nor who delighted in
tricks and later illusions. Mestoph Nor would become a Nethermancer, in part because
of his gloomy outlook knowing of his responsibilities to take care of his
younger brothers after the death of his parents, which drove him to seek
treasure later in life to care for them, leading him to his sad fate. Mestoph
Nor’s wandering out to get treasure greatly affected his younger brother Mephit
Nor who would become an adept and leave to find treasure as well. Mephit Nor
became an Illusionist and heard of a fabulous treasure in the Servos Jungle,
but he never returned. Evok Nor became a Wizard to learn analytical skills that
would help him investigate what had happened to his two brothers. Following a
lead that Mephit Nor was seen in Bartertown before heading off to the Servos
Jungle, he headed there from Vors. When he donned the bloodweave armor, he was
afflicted with a terrible curse, and he seemed to change for the worse. He
became a Nethermancer and Questor of Raggok at Dimazad. He had a great deal of
anger directed towards Jaspree and Elementalists whom he thought had created
the bloodweave armor.
Long-term Goals: Learn of the fate of his two
brothers; find a cure for his curse.
JIM
Player: Jason Murphy
Race/Discipline/Circle: Human Horror Stalker Fifth
Circle
Homeland: Dimazad
Passion: None
Character History: Jim was born in Dimazad from a
long-line of horror stalkers. Their task was to guard the entrance of Kaer
Dimazad and make sure the place was safe from all intruders. They were told
that all who approached the town that were not from Dimazad were horror-marked.
Unfortunately for Dimazad, Jim was not as focused on his duty as his previous
generations. He frequently made forays into the Servos to battle the ghita, leaving
the Kaer unguarded most of the time… Now he lairs at Mount Horrorsbane in his
continuing fight against the Horrors.
Long-term Goals: Taking out as many horrors as he can
before they get him.
CAN’N THE JAW
Player: Joshua Murphy
Race/Discipline/Circle: Troll Sky Raider Fifth Circle
Homeland: Caucavik Mountain Range
Passion: Chorrolis, Thystonius
Trollmoot: Shrieker
Character History: Can’N
the Jaw was born in the Caucavik Mountains. He was drawn to a trollmoot born of
castoffs and exiles from other trollmoots called the Shriekers who dreamed of
founding a new trollmoot in the Caucavik Mountains. The clan leader, Mad Off, initiated
him into the sky raider Discipline. The clan’s financial backing came from
Pagmor Gilthroat, whose gambling racket in Haven secretly kept the trolls alive
as they sought a new moothome in the Caucavik Mountains. Can’N the Jaw grew
tired of this lifestyle and sought out on his own to find a drakkar for himself
with which to challenge Mad Off for control of the clan. At Bartertown, he
learned of the Stoneclaws, whose adoption of Throalic customs greatly angered
him. Can’N the Jaw sought to establish the Shriekers in the Twilight Peaks by
eliminating the Stoneclaws and taking over their part of the Twilight peaks. A
rumor of a drakkar sighting in the Servos Jungle brought him to that area.
After destroying Dimazad and stealing their drakkar, he had gained much respect
in the Shrieker trollmoot, and the Shriekers were currently gaining power in
the Caucavik Mountains.
Long-term Goals: Becoming leader of the Shrieker
trollmoot, eliminating the hated Stoneclaw trollmoot, and resettling the
trollmoot in the Twilight Peaks.
CAST (NPCs/Enemies)
In Order of Appearance
RAGNAR
Race/Discipline/Circle: Dwarf Thief Fifth Circle
Homeland: Throal
Passion: Chorrolis
Character History: See the story Inheritance
in the Earthdawn First Edition rulebook from pages 12-19.
VALAAN
Race/Discipline/Circle: Human Weaponsmith Ninth
Circle/Elementalist Third Circle
Homeland: Jerris
Passion: Upandal
Character History: Originally from Jerris, Valaan
made weapons and armor for the Jerris Falcons. He came to Bartertown by way of
drakkar in the hopes of finally creating his own business. He learned the ways
of enchanting, and made a ton of money selling items to Jafeedehelaah and
eventually earned enough money to buy his own shop.
HIERMON
Race/Discipline/Circle: Human Wizard Seventh Circle
Homeland: Haven
Passion: Chorrolis
Character History: See Mists of Betrayal page 91.
See Parlainth page 23. IMB, Hiermon is a cranky, cursing, greedy Wizard
(and was a PC favorite).
FAFEDRIEL
Race/Discipline/Circle: Blood Elf Nethermancer
Twelfth Circle
Homeland: Blood Wood
Passion: Astendar
Character History: See Parlainth page 37. He was very interested in Evok Nor for some
reason and held back his usual mockery…
WARREN CRESCENT (a.k.a. Nemesis)
Race/Discipline/Circle: Human Wizard Ninth Circle?
Homeland: Fortress near the Midland Trading Post.
Passion: None
Character History: Warren Crescent is the alternate
name Nemesis chose when dealing with Evok Nor. Nemesis came to believe that by
manipulating Evok Nor and the prophesy, he could eliminate the Great Hunter,
and gain great power through the bloodweave armor.
QUEEN ALACHIA
Race/Discipline/Circle: Blood Elf Troubadour Twelfth
Circle/ Illusionist Eleventh Circle/ Elementalist Tenth Circle
Homeland: Elf Queen’s Palace
Passion: Astendar
Character History: See Blood Wood page
39-41.
The Torment of Evok Nor
Kin
Bartertown, Approximately Veltom 30 1509 TH, based on Crag Hack’s Journals:
Crag
Hack was an obsidiman of few words, but always writing this or that in his
journal. One might say that I, Evok Nor, am exactly the opposite, always
talking and never writing. I prefer the directness of vocal conversation,
rather than taking the long way through writing and later reading by others.
Until now anyway, as on this lone journey I really have no one else to talk to,
so I might as well write about my journey.
I
continue my search to find my two brothers, Mephit and Mestoph Nor, long lost
to me. Perhaps this is fitting, since I have also lost myself since the donning
of this accursed bloodweave armor. Unlike normal fernweave, which survives by
watering, the bloodweave armor uses its wearer as its water and soil, drinking
from its users very blood to survive. I have to drink nearly twice as much
water and eat twice as much food as other Name-givers just to survive its slow
drain on my body. It grows enough to
obscure my vision with its leaves and thorns. Oh yes, how could I forget about
the thorns that rip and tear into me as well? This armor’s curse may even be
just in its beginning stages. There has to be a way to remove it without
killing the host, despite what that fool Questor of Garlen said in Bartertown.
She’s lucky I didn’t use the power of Raggok to strike her down for her
incompetence.
I have
decided to return to the Servos Jungle, where I had originally found the bloodweave
armor. I had heard a legend in Bartertown about a Temple of Jaspree that
supposedly could be used to speak to that Passion directly. Jaspree will pay
for his crime of making this armor in the first place. A second legend I had
heard spoke of a great treasure in the Servos Jungle, something that might have
piqued the interest of my greedy brother Mephit.
Approximately Charassa 25, 1509 TH, based in Crag Hack’s Journals:
As I
traveled through the Servos Jungle, I was suddenly struck down by terrible
pain. The threads I had placed in my elfweave robe were unraveling. The group
pattern was dissipating. No matter, I didn’t need them anymore.
Approximately Rua-Mawag 1509 TH
After
nearly a month or two of searching, I found the Temple of Jaspree. I had slain
many beasts trying to reach here, and I would have my answers. Questors of
Jaspree wanted to know why I had come to this place. I told them about my
search for my brother Mephit and how Jaspree is to blame for my curse. The
Questors opened the gates of the Temple of Jaspree, and motioned for me to
enter. I entered a grand mansion made of the sturdy trees of the Servos Jungle.
After wandering its halls for much of the day, I found a large dining table,
with a beast of each fauna that I had slain to get here at a chair, and a
centaur, a giant half-man/half beast, who had to be Jaspree, each eating their
favorite foods on fine pottery.
Jaspree
bellowed out, “Why have you come here Evok Nor? Why have you killed so many of
my children to reach here?”
I screamed at him in response, “It was you who
cursed me! Their deaths are on your hands!”
Jaspree sadly spoke, “You are
mistaken. The curse you bear is not by my hands. I am most proud of my work to
create the Wyrm Wood and the elf people. I made the Wyrm Wood teem with life.
But during the Scourge, Queen Alachia put her faith in wooden kaers that
failed. She faced the destruction of the Wyrm Wood and the Elven Court. Rather
than allow the place to be destroyed, her Elementalists created the Ritual of
Thorns, forever corrupting the place as the Blood Wood, and changing the
physical forms of the people, the animals, and the plants. Their corrupted
forms make me weep, as does your own presence here. Your own people cursed you.
If you wish to learn more about the curse, go to the Blood Wood.”
I responded, “That’s just not possible!”
Jaspree replied, “Even if you don’t
believe me, you must go to the Blood Wood to find out the truth of what I say.”
I paused to consider his words and
then said, “ You may be right. What of my brother Mephit Nor? Have you seen
him?”
Jaspree angrily said, “I have
cursed him and his friend Roam Tannin to wander the Servos Jungle.”
I couldn’t believe it and enraged
said, “ You have cursed my brother and not me you say! How can I trust what you
have already said knowing this? Why have you cursed my little brother?”
Jaspree calmly spoke, “ Their greed
blinds them to the truth of the treasure of the Servos Jungle. When they
finally realize the truth, they shall be freed from the curse. If you wish to
steal from me, I have every right to punish you as I see fit. Mynbruje does not
preside over the jungle, I do. Now I have prepared a fine meal for you.”
I looked about the room and all the
animals were gone, and instead there was a gigantic feast on the table. I told
Jaspree, “There is no way I could eat all of this.”
Jaspree looked unmoved and said,
“You will not leave this place until you do.”
I was perplexed and said, “Why?”
Jaspree answered, “You should eat
what you kill. That is survival; necessary death to continue one’s own life.
Otherwise it is murder. Whatever false hatred you had for me should not have
been transferred to my innocent children. Now you shall eat and pay homage to
their sacrifice to further your own life.”
Thus I spent a long-time at the
Temple of Jaspree, eating and drinking, as my armor and I grew stronger and
stronger.
Unknown 1509 TH
The
moment I finished the feast, I found myself on the outskirts of the Servos
Jungle. I had learned of Mephit’s fate, and had decided to return to
Bartertown. There was nothing I could do for Mephit until he released himself
from his own curse. Good luck, my brother. I know how you feel.
Bartertown and Throal, Approximately Sollus 1509 TH
At
Bartertown, I rested for a time at Crag Hack’s Mansion as a guest, before
trying to find my elder brother Mestoph. Crag Hack had done well for himself,
becoming a leader of Name-givers here in Bartertown. I would have never guessed
he was capable of such an accomplishment.
I was able to fully recover from my trip back from the edge of the
Servos Jungle. I eventually got word of
a crazed, drunken dwarf called Ragnar who was telling a tale at some local
Throal taverns that included an elf called Mestoph. Could it be my brother? I
went to hear this lush’s tale.
The
tavern was called the Shattered Mug. I could tell right away who Ragnar was,
the disheveled, drunken dwarf closest to the door. I sat down and ordered some
fine elven wine next to the dwarf who stank of dwarf stout and sleeping in his
own vomit. The bartender’s eyes went wide at the sight of me (if nothing else,
the bloodweave is certainly an intimidating sight), and he hurriedly went and
cleaned a glass for me, and sent a wench to the backroom to fetch me my
wine. After getting my fine elven wine,
and casting the clean spell on the glass, the dust-covered bottle, as well as
on Ragnar’s clothes, I ordered the dwarf a bottle of dwarf stout ale, and asked
him to regale me with his best stories as payment for the favor. The greedy dwarf’s eyes went wide, and he
started in on his “best” story. He told me a long story (see Inheritance in
the Earthdawn First Edition rulebook or Earthdawn Player’s Compendium,
or as a free PDF in Free Stuff in the Downloads section at
Earthdawn Classic), and despite whatever alcohol he had imbibed, I saw his
eyes light up as he talked of treasure, and the look of terror and fear that
still lingered as he talked of Horrors. Mestoph was dead, and his killer was
still alive. Raggok and I, demanded retribution on this wormskull.
I
asked, “What happened to Lorm’s axe?”
Ragnar
replied, “ I gave it away at a town called Twin Chin a long time ago.”
I
further requested, “It is unfortunate that Lorm will not be avenged with his
axe. Where is Kaer Jalendale?”
Ragnar
responded, “You want to go there? Are you crazy? There is no way you could take
a wormskull alone.”
I
retorted, “Don’t worry dwarf, I won’t be alone. I have a friend that can help
me.”
Ragnar
laughed and said, “ Well it’s your funeral. Kaer Jalendale is located near the
Tylon Mountains. There are a few vicious ork cavalryman groups in the area,
including the Fists of Fahd and Bronze Hand.”
I
cackled and said, “Ork cavalrymen are nothing to me.”
A few
orks in the bar took offense to that comment, their rage triggered by their gahads,
and a group of them tried to jump me. After a few “inspired” words from Raggok,
they were fighting each other, and during the ensuing barroom brawl, I made my
egress before the Royal Guards arrived.
I
visited the Throal Library the next day in order to obtain a map of the Tylon
and Throal Mountains for my next ventures.
Mount Horrorsbane, Approximately Riag 1509 TH
If you
want to fight a Horror, it always helps to have a Horror Stalker at your side.
I made the dangerous ascent into the Throal Mountains to get to Mount
Horrorsbane, a highly corrupt mountain always surrounded by clouds and storms
of thunder, rain, hail, and ice, which attracted the Horrors to it for some
unknown reason. It was a favored spot of many Horror Stalkers, since Braza’s
Kingdom was sealed. The current theory proposed for the high amount of Horror
activity and corruption was that Braza’s Kingdom was linked to Mount
Horrorsbane, possibly by one of the chimneys that the dwarves of Throal had
made for ventilation. Personally, I think that this storm itself is highly
unusual and could be the cause. No natural storm has this many changes in
temperament and temperature in such a short time.
The trip was mostly uneventful,
except for the sudden appearance of a flying Horror. The flying monstrosity
looked a lot like a flying gnasher with bat-like wings and a huge row of teeth.
Its appendages including two arms, which were more like firecannons than arms,
and a tail. Their arms were used to both control flight and as a weapon. Since
most of my spells in my matrices were flame-based such as ignite and flame
flash, I had to quickly weave on the fly and prepared the defensive icy fingers
to reduce the burning caused by his jet attacks, as well as chilling circle to
see if ice-based damage was effective. When it attempted to dive into my
chilling circle, I pinned him to the spot with a chant of pain and walked
away.
When I
finally reached Mount Horrorsbane, acolytes of the Horror Stalker chief
accosted me.
I said,
“I seek Jim the Horror Stalker, an old companion of mine, to hunt a powerful
Horror.”
The
acolytes gave a low bow and led me to the chief. An old grizzled human with
painted black plate mail and a battle-axe greeted me.
The
chief said, “Welcome fellow hunter. I have met few of your race that hunt the
Horrors, but all have been great hunters with the special powers of their race
to protect them. Jim is currently on the hunt, I will tell him of your presence
here as soon as he returns.”
I was
baffled and said, “What do you mean old man? I am an elf.”
The
chief looked confused and said, “But surely with those thorns you are a blood
elf?”
I
angrily said, “ No I am no blood elf. I bear a terrible cursed armor which has
caused my present outward appearance.”
The
chief warily said, “ A curse eh? Have you seen a Weaponsmith yet? I have heard
tales that they have some knowledge of cursed armor and weapons.”
I
replied, “ No I have not seen a Weaponsmith about it yet. I will do so upon my
return to Bartertown. The curse seems to be only upon the wearer of the armor.
Do not worry for it cannot be spread to you unless you remove it from me and
don it.”
The
chief looked relieved and showed me to an unfurnished cave room with a bedroll
for me to wait and rest in until Jim returned.
I
waited a while for Jim to return, recovering from the long trek up the Throal
Mountains.
When
Jim finally returned I told him of the tale that Ragnar had told me and about
how I suspected that it was my brother Mephit who had been killed by the
wormskull. He agreed to accompany me to Jalendale, and we headed off to descend
back to Bartertown.
Bartertown, Approximately Teayu 1509 TH
We
returned to Crag Hack’s Mansion to rest for our long journey to the Tylon
Mountains. I was surprised to see the
dwarf thief, Ragnar here. He had cleaned up, and looked like he had been off
alcohol for a while. He told us that he would guide us to Jalendale. I accepted
his offer. I looked for a Weaponsmith to tell me about the bloodweave and found
out that Valaan was the best in Bartertown. I went to his shop, and he told me
that my armor was a variant of fernweave, made with the very rare blood ivy of
the Blood Wood. He didn’t know much more than that, but a Wizard called Hiermon
in Haven was an expert in the blood ivy plant and could possibly know
more.
After
resting a bit, we three travelers headed back to my hometown of Vors. From
there we went to Twin Chin, and made our way to Kaer Jalendale in the
North-Central Tylon Mountains.
Kaer Jalendale, Approximately Doddul 1509 TH.
As we
headed to Jalendale, a gang of ork scorchers charged at us. We rushed up the
Tylon Mountains; trying to slow them down on the steeper inclines. I cast
ethereal darkness on some nearby rocks, and tossed them at the ork cavalrymen. Temporarily blinded, Jim and Ragnar went in
and took down some of their mounts while I looked for the entrance to Kaer
Jalendale using astral sight. Having found the entrance, I prepared a
levitation spell and whistled my comrades to withdraw. I concentrated on using
the levitation spell to get them down safely, then chanted a few inspiring
words at the remaining ork scorchers. Covered by darkness, the ork scorchers
attacked one another, some sliding down the mountains to their deaths, and
others killed by their own clansmen. I then used my levitation spell to enter
Kaer Jalendale.
Ragnar
lead the way into Kaer Jalendale, navigating us through the various corridors,
with but one goal, the wormskull that had killed his two friends. Not that Jim
or I minded, killing the wormskull was what we had come here to do. And if we
happened to get rich off of Jalendale’s treasure as well, so much the better.
We had
come across the eight cadaver men that Ragnar had told us about, so we knew we
were getting close to the wormskull. All of a sudden, a huge troll cadaver man
carrying a well-made battle-axe attacked Ragnar with a vicious downward strike,
which the thief dodged nimbly. A second horizontal strike grazed across his
chest Ragnar.
Ragnar
screamed out, “Lorm? No! It can’t be!”
Lorm?
But, where is the wolf’s head dagger? And why is he holding the axe, he didn’t
have it when he died?
Surprisingly,
the cadaver troll spoke, “ You betrayed me, dwarf! You left me here to become
the puppet of a Horror while you ran away to save your own worthless hide!”
Ragnar’s
face blanched and he fumbled for words, “No, Lorm it wasn’t like that. I made
sure your axe made it out with me, your last request. I gave it to a troll
Warrior who promised to avenge you.”
I had
figured it out, “ That isn’t Lorm, Ragnar. It’s an illusion created by the
wormskull. Jim now!”
As I
threaded the spell dispel magic to remove the illusion, Jim who had hidden in
the shadows, struck at the thing from behind. Wounded and enraged, the cadaver
troll whirled around to strike at Jim. But then it struck at Jim four times as
hard, just like a cadaver man. Jim was only saved by his ring mail, which
managed to stop the battle-axe a few times from getting too deep. But I could
hear the pop of several broken ribs, and the troll’s last slash to his shoulder
made Jim unable to even lift his broadsword to attack. It was no illusion, but
the image before us wasn’t real either. I hurriedly dispelled the illusionary
spell on the cadaver troll, revealing a cadaver troll with a different face
altogether. It was as I suspected. It wasn’t Lorm; it was the troll Warrior
that Ragnar had given Lorm’s Axe to at Twin Chin. Ragnar seemed to come out of it, and
delivered a brutal surprise strike to the back of the cadaver troll who had
turned to face Jim. The undead monster dropped and Lorm’s Axe rattled to the
ground. Ragnar slumped and started crying. He knew he had led this young,
reckless troll Warrior to a cruel fate with a tale of adventure and treasure. I
knew the Horror was close, as the tears of Ragnar went from water to salt
halfway down his cheeks. I tended as best I could to Jim and Ragnar, casting
the relax spell on the both, and wrapping a makeshift bandages torn from the
bottom of my elfweave robe around Jim’s shoulder and Ragnar’s chest. I squeezed
Ragnar’s shoulder and brought him to his feet; we had company.
My
mouth was as dry as desert. Even the blood from my companions’ wounds seemed to
dry out and seal. Out of the darkness the thing hissed, “Looks the small coward
returns. To see his dead friends that he left behind perhaps? You remember what
I want. Tell the others or die.”
Ragnar
had already told us the story, and Jim and I had no intention of freeing a
Horror, except from life. Jim had dropped his buckler and managed to lift up
Lorm’s axe with his offhand. The
wormskull seemed to know about Jim’s aggressive intentions, and attempted to
use its power on him. He was certainly surprised when it failed, and Lorm’s Axe
buried into his side before bouncing off the elemental breastplate, and
Ragnar’s broadsword found its way to his backside. I started a pain chant. The wave of terror
then hit us after a strident hiss from the wormskull. Ragnar was frozen in
place, as Jim and I struggled with our wills against it. While Jim and I
managed to break the Horror fear, Ragnar wasn’t so lucky, and was helpless as
the Horror walked towards him and used his good arm to strike him, following it
up with a shifting of his skin around his chest wound. Ragnar coughing up blood
then screamed in pain and dropped to the ground lifeless. Jim dropped Lorm’s
Axe and found the wolf’s head dagger, jamming it into his shoulder wound to
empower it with blood magic. Meanwhile I felt drawn to the wormskull after
Lorm’s Axe had bled it. As I walked towards the wormskull, that was when it
happened for the first time. I felt my skin crawl and I screamed, as the
bloodweave vines extended beyond my body, writhing much like the worm-like
tentacles of the wormskull and buried themselves in the wound left by Lorm’s Axe.
I felt the vines start to draw blood and life energy from the wormskull and
transfer to the armor and to me. The wormskull’s wound sizzled and was
surrounded by smoke, while the thing screamed. I remembered my brother’s words,
“Somewhat vulnerable to life magic.” Maybe the bloodweave had been created by
life magic? With the wormskull momentarily distracted, Jim finished it off,
burying the wolf’s head dagger in its head. With the Horror defeated the other
eight cadaver men turned to dust, and we went to looting the treasures of
Jalendale after burying Lorm, Ragnar, and Mestoph as heroes in the cliff’s
outside. We left the orichalcum shields there in respect for the sacrifice of
the people of Jalendale. Well that and I’ve had enough of curses for a lifetime.
I knew
now more than ever that I needed to find out about the bloodweave and what it
was doing to me. I knew the curse was accelerating, since the vines around my
body were moving around as an alive and aware creature feeling about at its
environment for the first time. I could
tell on the return trip to Bartertown with our treasure, that the sight even
unnerved Jim, a hardened Horror Stalker.
Prophecy
Bartertown, Throal Approximately Veltom 1510 TH.
After,
selling almost all of my share of the treasure except Lorm’s Axe and the
bracers Named Jalendale’s Defender, I went to Crag Hack’s Mansion to store
these items in his vault. I then went to the Throal Library to plan my trip to
Haven. I purchased two maps detailing the Mid Reach of the Serpent River and
one on the Old Theran Road running through the Caucavik Mountains. I decided that the safest route to take would
probably be a caravan to Darranis, river ferry to Tansiarda, and then a caravan
along the Old Theran Road to Haven.
I returned to Crag Hack’s mansion
to rest for my long trip. That is when the dreams started. At first, I would
stand on the verge of a vast forest. As I strode forward to enter, the forest
seemed to grow to prevent my entry with a wall of brush. And then once I
reached the brush, the place seemed to change from a serene, sunlit forest to a
place teeming with violent life, and overgrowth that covered the place in
darkness. As I continued into the
forest, the flora and fauna seemed to grow thorns and bleed onto the forest
floor. I continued until I found a clearing filled with blackened trees and a
blighted, scorched earth. At the center of the clearing was a gigantic tree,
surrounded by elves whose skin itself was also covered with thorns. Behind them
from the forest itself burst nightmarish creatures, wormskulls,
horribly-bloated, floating Horrors, undead dragons, and worst of all, a Horror
with a head bearing six eyes, wicked teeth and spiked horns, connected to its
torso by a neck as long as a troll is tall, its body gleamed of metal and was
covered in spikes, standing on four legs, each ending in talons. These Horrors
surrounded the thorn-covered elves in a circle, and seemed to cast a spell on
them. After that the elves became feral
and savage, their teeth growing fangs, their fingertips became claws, and they
screamed like beasts. Behind me, suddenly came an army of elves without thorns,
and we rushed at the Horrors and corrupted elves. With the crash of battle, I
awoke in a cold sweat. What was the
meaning of this dream? Worse, it became a recurring nightmare, each night the
same dream. I came to realize that there would be no respite from this dream
until I learned the truth of the bloodweave.
I was off to Haven to meet Hiermon.
Old Theran Road, Approximately Charassa 1510 TH.
I was
surprised to find members of the Shriekers in the Caucavik Mountains that
surrounded the Old Theran Road. When the group of brigands jumped out to try
and steal my valuables, I requested to see Can’N the Jaw. They seemed shocked that I knew his name, and
knowing better than to anger the ill-tempered troll Sky Raider unnecessarily,
they took me to see him. It was tough travel over frozen, rough terrain to the
Shrieker’s Caucavik lair. When we reached the lair, I was lead to a cave
holding a drakkar. There was Can’N the Jaw, still wearing his hide armor and
body shield, as well as holding a unique pole arm of some sort. He was the
captain of this drakkar apparently, based on his barking orders for the upkeep
of the vessel.
I
called out to him, “I see you have selected some men after you our heart.
Perhaps they need a lesson on whom to raid?”
Can’N
the Jaw leapt off the drakkar to greet me, “Evok, it’s been a while. I can’t
say that you look well.”
I
responded, “This cursed armor is truly a burden. I quest to discover the truth
of the armor at Haven.”
Can’N
the Jaw laughed heartily, “Well you are in luck my friend. We prepare to fly to
Haven on business. Care to accompany us?”
I
replied, “Has to be better than walking.”
Can’N
the Jaw continued to laugh, “ I’ll take that as a yes! If you’ve never flown
before you are in for a treat!”
I
rested while Can’N the Jaw continued to prepare his vessel for flight. After a
day, we flew over the Caucavik Mountains to Haven.
Haven, Approximately Rua 1510 TH.
I went
to Brenula’s Arms to meet with the Wizard Hiermon to learn about blood
ivy and see if it has any connection to the bloodweave armor. First, I had to
convince Brenula to see the old buzzard, which was accomplished with a few gold
pieces. I walked up the stairs to his second floor room. The guy was ancient for a human. The room was
filled with all manner of bookcases on arcane subjects, a desk and chair combo,
an alchemical workbench, and a bed, all in disarray.
I
entered the room and started by saying, “What would it cost me for your
professional opinion about my bloodweave armor?”
Hiermon
responded with some rude cursing about him being interrupted and then changed
his tune at the color of the gold coins I poured on his work desk, “You have a
high respect for my professional opinion. Lets take a look.”
The old
man opened a desk drawer and brought out a magnifying glass and looked over
seemingly every inch of the armor. He the exclaimed, “Amazing! It seems to be
fernweave made of blood ivy, although that substance is usually used in
alchemical experiments and is only usually found in small quantities in the
Blood Wood. The amount of blood ivy necessary to create fernweave armor would
take years to collect and probably years to properly enchant. This is almost
certainly the life’s work of a Blood Warder Elementalist.”
I
asked, “What kind of special properties is blood ivy known for?”
Hiermon
responded, “Well in alchemical potions it is well known for its regenerative
properties, and is an especially fine ingredient to use in many magical healing
potions. In fact one proverb I’ve heard blood elves use is that, ‘Those who
seek life, seek out the blood ivy’.”
I
wondered aloud, “Could the opposite be true, could it also be that the blood
ivy seeks life?”
Hiermon
mused, “Hmmm. Well that would certainly help explain its current status of
bonding with you. But I find that my expertise is limited in this matter. If
you truly want the answers, you’ll need to go to the source of the armor, the
Blood Wood.”
I
stayed with Hiermon for a while and continued my training as a Wizard. I then
sought out a blood elf Nethermancer called Fafedriel to train me in my other
Discipline. He of course wanted to know everything about the bloodweave,
information that I traded to learn more about the transformation of the Wyrm
Wood to the Blood Wood, and the change from elf to blood elf. I additionally
trained under him as a Nethermancer for a time. Confident in my new abilities,
I set out for the Midland Trading Post, the midway point between Haven and the
Blood Wood.
Midland Trading Post-Warren’s Lair, Approximately Mawag 1510 TH.
I rested at Gurt’s Inn and planned
for my trip into the Blood Wood. My aim was to go to the Forest’s Heart and the
Elven Court, so I planned to enter through the Blood Wood just south off
Arralena. I didn’t plan on making any more stops on my trip, but I was thrown
off course by one of my nauseating, dizzying episodes as a result of my armor. I
wandered aimlessly looking for shelter or somewhere to rest. Lost, I continued
to wander until I found a dark forest surrounding a large castle. The
well-built fortress was massive, towering over the tallest trees of the forest.
I thought that only the Therans could build such impressive structures. Still,
I had no choice but to go to the fortress to rest.
Elf warriors in an impressive,
well-tailored uniform that seemed to mix old elven fashions with current Theran
ones guarded the fortress. I asked them to open the gate for me. They seemed
unmoved by my pleas, so I tried to motivate them with gold instead. They were
not impressed by my attempt to bribe them. I thought about using my powers to
affect them and force my way in, but too weak from my ordeals reaching here, I
fainted instead.
When I awoke, I found myself in a
lavish, but now bloodstained bed. An elf healer with an obvious look of concern
was attempting to tend my wounds but was simply outmatched by my bloodweave
armor. Looking about the room, there were a lot more people in here suffering
from various injuries. At the door on each side were two elf guards. One of the elf healers left the room
suddenly. When he returned, behind him strode a human magician with blue-white
eyes that gleamed like lightning, flowing white hair that streamed behind him,
and wearing a brilliant red robe with inscribed symbols both magical and
mundane, one of which matched the ones on the clothes of the guards. He walked
to my bedside, his staff touching the floor and tapping as he walked. He laid
the staff next to the wall and sat down on a chair next to me.
He said, “So you are the interloper
in my dominion. I am Warren Crescent, master of this stronghold. Identify
yourself and your purpose here.”
I replied, “I am Evok Nor and I
meant no disrespect to you by my trespass. Tired from my long journey from
Haven, I have come here seeking shelter and rest before I enter the Blood
Wood.”
Warren said, “ The Blood Wood you
say? You have gone a bit off course. You are in my fortress which is northeast
of the Northern Reaches of the Blood Wood.”
I was incredulous, “ Impossible. I
couldn’t have gone that far off course, I was going to the Southern Fringe!”
Warren continued, “Nevertheless,
here is where you are. What business do you have in the Blood Wood? Something
to do with the armor you wear?”
I recounted for him my tale to this
point about how I came to become cursed by the bloodweave armor and all that
has transpired since. Warren listened attentively, asking questions at certain
points; especially about the nightmares I began having at Crag Hack’s Mansion.
Finally at the end of the tale, Warren said, “So you are traveling to the Blood
Wood to learn the truth about the cursed armor you wear? You mistakenly entered
my realm because of an illness brought on by your armor, specifically vertigo
that caused you to become lost and travel in the wrong direction? I think I
understand. I will grant you enough time in my fortress to recover from your
injuries to full health. I would also like to give you a gift. Will you accept it?”
I was cynical, “ What kind of
gift?”
Warren explained, “I understand
that you have a problem with vertigo, the gift that I have for you is a special
map. With this map you will never become lost again.”
I help out my hands, “I accept your
gift.”
Warren said, “ Excellent. You are
free to go anywhere in my fortress that you wish. I hope you enjoy my
hospitality.”
I
rested for about a week before exploring the fortress. The fortress itself had
every vice imaginable; harems, pubs, gambling dens, and even a coliseum where
gladiators faced terrible battles with creatures of the Blood Wood as well as
other gladiators. There was even a bazaar set up where you could find just
about anything; weapons, armor, items, ancient texts and scrolls, and even a
slave auction, with many rare and unique items from the Blood Wood. The slaves
were often bought to become gladiators at the arena or to become harlots at the
harems. A brisk slave trade route seemed
to run from somewhere in the Blood Wood to Haven or Parlainth through this
trading post in both Name-givers and creatures.
Despite Throalic decrees outlawing slavery, the Therans continue to keep
slavery alive in Barsaive, here and in Vivane. The real question is how the
Therans can enter the Blood Wood and procure anything, unless they have the
help of a blood warder… Well, its got
nothing to do with me.
Warren’s Lair-Blood Wood, Approximately Gahmil 1510 TH.
After
buying supplies at the bazaar, I set out again on my journey to the Blood Wood.
Using Warren’s map, I was able to get to the border of the Blood Wood’s
Southern Fringe in no time at all. The magic map had a built-in Shantaya’s
compass centered on your location relative to the map and a sextant was drawn
to your intended destination. Even those with a rudimentary knowledge of
navigation could use the map to get to any place.
As I
approached the Blood Wood, my armor’s vines seemed to reach for the brush
around me, as if making contact with an old friend. All of a sudden, a ward
trap activated and thorn men surrounded me. Rather than attacking me outright,
the thorn men seemed confused by my presence. As I strode into the Blood Wood,
they followed me as if uncertain if I was a friend or foe. A powerful magic
attempted to circumvent my entry to Arralena, but the map was not fooled by it.
Thus my new ‘bodyguards’ and I entered the town of Arralena.
At
Arralena, my presence immediately got the attention of the Talshara ranelle,
but that is to be expected when you come into town escorted by eight thorn men.
The blood warders and exolashers of the outpost encircled me, and to my
surprise, the thorn men fanned out to protect me, as if they could sense the
intent of the blood elves to attack me. One of the elder blood warders called
out to his men to halt, and came towards me to parlay.
The blood
warder said, “What brings you to Arralena, outsider?”
I
replied, “I come to see the elf queen Alachia, for perhaps only through her
great wisdom can I learn about the bloodweave armor I wear.”
The
blood warder said, “ A foolish, unprotected elf demands entry to the Elf
Queen’s Palace and thinks he is worthy of the beauty of our great queen? Go
back from whence you came outsider!”
I was
enraged and dropped my façade of flattery, “The Blood Wood itself has sided
with me. I have a right to the answers I seek. Why was the bloodweave created?
Why was I cursed to wear it? For what purpose was it made? Why do I dream of
the Forest Heart, with the Blood Wood haunting me in my dreams every night? I
will walk to the source of the Blood Wood, the Elf Queen’s Palace and consult
with the Elven Court on these matters. If you stand in my way, I will use all
the powers I possess to defeat you. If these thorn men are any indication, you
shall fight the very Blood Wood itself. You dare not oppose my will or the will
of the Blood Wood!”
The
blood warder was subdued, “I do not understand why the thorn men protect you,
and perhaps it is the will of the Blood Wood for you to find your answers here.
I will send a detachment of my men with you to escort you to the Elf Queen’s
Palace. These highly trained exolashers will make sure you do not go anywhere
else in the Blood Wood but your destination.”
Elf Queen’s Palace-Blood Wood exploration, Approximately Raquas- Doddul 1510 TH.
I led
an entourage of thorn men and exolashers to the Elf Queen’s Palace. The Palace
was built into the branches of eight great oaks with many towers in the
branches, and a mighty palace supported by all the oaks. It was a master feat
of elementalism; whoever made the bloodweave had to be from here. The Courtyard
exolashers and blood wardens seemed a little annoyed at my presence, but the
exolashers from Arralena explained the situation to them and let me into the
Palace. I have to admit those sixteen exolashers from Arralena and the Palace
Courtyard, eight thorn men, and I entering the Palace must have been quite a
scene to the consortis and blood warders. I began to ascend the
staircase of bones when I was stopped by some of the members of the Elven Court
who demanded that I leave. I demanded to be sent to the Rose Throne itself. The
consortis considered my demand as outrageous, but a courier brought a message
from Alachia herself. She had demanded to see me, and the consortis were too
attached to their necks to dare to go against her whims. The exolashers left to
their posts, their duty accomplished. The Queen’s personal bodyguards would
certainly see to it that nothing happened to their Queen. One of the consortis
led me to the Chamber of Voices where the Rose Throne was located. He opened
the door to the chamber and left.
I
entered the chamber, with my eight thorn men attendants. On a raised dais of
alabaster was a rose-covered throne made of red-colored wood. The Queen who sat
on it was far more beautiful than I anticipated. I did not expect to find her
so attractive despite the thorns that pierced her skin. I kneeled to her to
show my respect.
Queen
Alachia spoke and my ears could not get enough of her voice as gentle as a
breeze carrying the songs of a songbird, “So you must be the outsider causing
such a stir in my kingdom. I have known about your coming since you entered the
Blood Wood. We have much to discuss. You have donned the cursed bloodweave
armor. I can tell you the nature of this armor if you wish, but the humans have
a saying ‘ignorance is bliss’. Once you know this knowledge, you will have to
make a terrible choice.”
I
rapidly responded, “Yes. It is my greatest desire to know the truth.” I might
have said yes even if I did not want to know, just to continue to hear her
voice.
Queen
Alachia started, “Have you heard the tale of Lysarin Greenheart?”
I sadly
admitted, “No, my knowledge of the Blood Wood’s history is not very good.”
Queen
Alachia sadly said, “Lysarin Greenheart’s tale is a tragic one, for he became
tainted by the Horrors and ended up creating a place called the Blasted Heath.
The tainted Lysarin added True fire kernels to the birches of that place,
created the tainted fire birches. The terrible pain drove the plant spirit mad
and it left the fire birch, burning all nearby plants. The end result was the
Blasted Heath. After this happened, Lysarin disappeared. When he later
discovered that we had succeeded where he failed with the Ritual of Thorns, the
madman wanted to make sure the Blood Wood would continue for all time. The
blood magic of the Ritual of Thorns is powered by the life force of the elves
and creatures that live here. Thus Lysarin learned that we would continue to
need more unprotected elves to become blood elves to continue to protect the
Blood Wood itself and perpetuate the Ritual of Thorns. So he spent years
collecting blood ivy and using his knowledge of elementalism fashioned special
fernweave armor. The fernweave armor called bloodweave seeks out unprotected
elves and inflicts them with the pain of the Blood Wood, and brings out an
illness called wood longing. Eventually they must give in and come to the Blood
Wood. And once this is accomplished, the final stage of the curse comes into
effect.”
I
couldn’t believe it, the curse got worse somehow, “The final stage of the
curse?”
Queen
Alachia coldly said, “You have a year and a day to either decide to become a
blood elf or die. If you attempt to leave the woods as an unprotected elf you
will die.”
I was
shocked, “What? You mean to tell me that Lysarin created an item to help
perpetuate the blood elf race by feeding off the unprotected elves? Wait a
minute, if such a thing exists then that means…”
Queen
Alachia responded, “Yes. No one is born a blood elf; you must decide to go
through the Ritual of Thorns to become a blood elf. Lysarin created the armor
to ‘persuade’ elves of the Blood Wood to continue the cycle.”
I felt
if I had been stabbed in the heart, “So why don’t the elves just decide to stop
doing the Ritual of Thorns?”
Queen
Alachia continued, “That decision would end the life of all the plants and
animals of the Blood Wood.”
I was
enraged, “You monsters! The price of survival of the Scourge is the whole Wyrm
Wood from the elves, to the plants, to the animals, and the very soil.”
Queen
Alachia calmly said, “Better that than the Wyrm Wood become like the Wastes or
Badlands. I made a terrible decision to save my people and my land. Now you
have an equally terrible decision to make, become a blood elf or die. I give
you permission to go wherever you wish in the Blood Wood while you mull about
your decision.”
I left
the Chamber of Voices and the Elf Queen’s Palace and wandered throughout the
Blood Wood. I visited the Blasted Heath and saw what a monster Lysarin truly
was. If he was capable of this, he was surely capable of creating the
bloodweave. I visited the Forest Heart and had my nightmares again, but this
time I saw the dream with even more clarity, the faces of the blood elves were
those that I had met, and among the elves I saw the face of my brother,
Mestoph, wielding Lorm’s Axe. How could my brother be alive again unless I’ve
saved him somehow? I decided that I could die and deny this prophecy, or live
on as a blood elf and fulfill it as the ultimate act of vengeance against this
corrupted place, and its people. Thus I
decided to undergo the Ritual of Thorns and become a blood elf. I would spend
my remaining years as a blood elf and search for a way to reverse the Ritual of
Thorns and have my revenge on the Blood Wood.
--Written by Evok Nor
Evok Nor doesn’t show up in the main storyline again until
1515 TH as a result of a chance encounter with Luke Branford. But a second
journal may be in the works for later explaining Evok’s years between 1511-1515
TH.
