Disclaimer
The following is a excerpt from a manuscript recovered from the ruins of Ihram of the Pillars. Research shows it was written by a third century scholar named Furud al-Wahhab al-Bayati and recounts the legend of the Light Bringers during the chaos after the fall of the Immortals.
Journey Into
the West
Chapter VIII – The Journey South
Once more, I, the most humble servant of Ishtar, Furud
al-Wahhab al-Bayati, and true son of the dry lands of the Alysaian
Desert do continue the telling of the tale of the brave heroes and heroines who
stood against the greatest evil the world has ever known. As I sit here in my
study overlooking the courtyard of my home I can feel the warm wind heated by
the desert sun upon my face, the warmth fades and I begin to shiver as I
remember the days after the fall of the ancient dwarven vault.
We were riding down out of the cold, windy forlorn mountains
back toward the lowlands. It was still the season of spring, but you could not
tell it riding on the back of a donkey down a treacherous mountain path a goat
would think twice about taking. The icy wind that blew off the snow covered
peaks cut through the winter gear that my master had purchased me. He of course
did not seem to notice the wind or the cold, even half naked as he was. My
master, if nothing else, was a true barbarian at heart, his recent conversion
notwithstanding.
The party had grown larger with new recruits drawn from, the
ranks of the freed slaves we had liberated from the beastmen camps in the high
valley. A dwarven vault guard named Arnie and several of the freed human slaves
had joined the party. They seemed able bodied if not the smartest people I have
ever meet, but they might be good for stopping arrows, especially any pointed
towards me.
The elven twins had convinced their friends that seizing a
long forgotten crumbling elven ruin located south in the beastmen infested
borderlands was a good idea. The Twins, never have I meet two people who had
such a burning desire to embrace death as those two. They managed to get the Khanum,
the flame haired beauty, mistress of the bow, and bird charmer to endorse this
folly, so south we rode.
The journey to the south was uneventful for the most part.
One of the twins, The Hashishi, had been recently cursed by Ereshkigal, goddess of the underworld
for his crimes against her. No one would talk about why he had been cursed, but
I surmised his clumsiness no doubt had a part to play in it. I have seen
crossed eye camels with more grace. His curse seemed to involve him waking up
naked in a tree, a very strange curse.
It was not until we came across a dirty little hovel in the
middle of the wilder lands that things turned interesting. The poor farmstead once belonged to some luckless
peasants who had fallen victim to the savagery of a pack of Rusiyyah, blood
thirsty barbarians from the far north. Interesting enough, one of the more
recent members of the Light Bringers was a Rusiyyah. The Wolf was a barbarian who
had been raised in Thrace. He had renounced the dark infidel gods of his people
and had embrace the faith of the Thracians. He went as far to claim that he was
a champion of Ashur, King of Heaven.
The others seem to humor him, but I think he was mad. I always kept a careful
eye on him, waiting for him to creep in to our tents at night and slit our
throats.
The heroes charged into the hovel surprising the raiders and
a brief melee ensued as the heroes made short work of them. Her greatness, the
Khanum, however was less than pleased. During the fight, The Wolf ordered the
men-at-arms to protect her, which they did my dragging her away from the fight.
The blistery tongue lashing she gave The Wolf and men-at-arms could have melted
steel. Shortly after we left the farm, my master came to me with a new addition
to the party, a young puppy. I hoped the young hound might fill the vacant void
in my master’s heart after the loss of his hound Tycho.
The heroes made camp that night near some ruins that used to
be an elven shrine. We had visited this sacred elven place before, and
supposedly meet the guardian of the ruins, a mystical beast known as a unicorn.
I never saw it as it came when I was sleeping, but I wanted to. I have long
heard the stories of this magical creatures and longed to see one. A strange
fog arose that night and I watched as the other retainers fell into a deep sleep
which soon claimed me. When I awoke the next morning, it was clear that the
guardian had come but I missed seeing it once again.
Two days later we arrived within eyesight of the Tower at
Eammon Tor. My hairy little master and the graceless Hashishi, scouted out the
ruins and came back with troubling news. An army of beastmen had taken over the
tower and were using slaves to rebuild old fortifications and build new ones.
The heroes formulated a plan using secret knowledge acquired from the slaves
they had freed in the valley of the lost vault. I stayed safely behind in the
camp with the other retainers. Only the two female elf henchwomen went with
them, Noelia and Tatanye. Both elves were skilled warriors and magicians. I
wished my master good luck and the blessing of Ishtar upon him. I promised to
look after the puppy he had rescued from the farm. As much as I wanted to go
with them, Furud al-Wahhab al-Bayati, was not a warrior or a magician, just a
simple man.
The true accounting of what transpired in the tower remained
a mystery to this very day. Even among those who went into the tower, there was
some confusion about what exactly happened. One thing that remained true is
that our most beloved Khanum, Ivanova, was never the same afterwards.
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