My dreams were of the stars. Not the ones in the sky, but rather the ones that had scattered across Aramyr when a God was destroyed long ago. One of the stars burned inside me. I could see it, as well as feel it. I was a ghost, translucent and floating high above the surface of Aramyr. The shard of Ara glowed within my chest, pulling me toward the others. Compelling me to reunite them and restore Hope.
Two of the shards were distant. Across the Orichalcum and somewhere within the battlegrounds of the Holy Land. One of them, unlike the others, pulsed with a deep, greenish color. At first, I despaired that another had been corrupted, but when I reached out to it I found instead a feeling of overwhelming sadness. It made me draw back, but the shard had sensed me and wanted to connect with the shard in my body. It felt eager, almost desperate with the desire to do so. I tried to send it thoughts of comfort. One day, I will find you. I received a faint response: Hope.
Then my gaze was pulled to the North and now I did despair. I beheld a frozen wasteland and countless undead. Some were marching upon a massive stronghold of solid black stone. Shadowguard, my memory told me. Other undead creatures wandered aimlessly, as lost as their souls. Somewhere in this terrible place, another Shard of Ara waited. It’s light was duller than the others, but it was by its own design, I sensed.
It hides itself. A voice whispered in my dream. Another searches for it here. The Shard doesn’t want to be found by such a creature.
How will I find it?
Ord will point the way.
No! I’ve tried praying to him! He doesn’t answer me! What am I supposed to do? How do I gain His favor?
I didn’t mean to sound desperate, but I was. There was another sensation I felt as well. The corrupted Shard was still in my Inventory and it was at war with itself. A mixture of intense cold and great heat roiling within the small, grape shaped crystal. Despite being safe within my Inventory, the Corruption infecting the shard was beyond anything Purgation could hope to cleanse. This wasn’t a Murk corruption…this was the Void itself infiltrating the remnant of Ara’s power. I needed something beyond what Purgation could provide.
Great Ord, please guide me. How do I cleanse this shard? The others are so far away…
YOU!? SERVANT OF THE FALSE! I KNOW YOU HAVE IT! I WILL HAVE THEM ALL! I WILL…
Desperately, I flung my awareness away. I recognized the terrible voice as the same presence I had encountered before when I had first dreamed of Ara’s shards. If this…presence sought the shards as well, I had to beat them to it. Yet, the remaining shards all felt so far away. But they were not all far away.
There was one more shard and it was close. I looked closer, my eyes piercing clouds and settling upon a great monastery sitting upon a promontory overlooking the Orichalcum. The monastery grounds housed several different buildings. A surprisingly large Cathedral, an attached cloister and several outbuildings. Impressive for such a remote location. I blinked. There was something off. A cloak of shadow covered the Abbey grounds, Cathedral and all. Yet, I could just see the faintest flicker of light that was there, then gone again. There was a shard of Ara here.
An overwhelming feeling of hatred suddenly smashed into me sending me flying backward. It originated from somewhere within the shadows below. Whatever it was, it wanted me gone. No, it wanted me dead. Fear gripped me, but then a heat began to build within my chest. It was the shard within me. It pulsed warmly, pushing back against the assault. The hatred below became shock, then the malice doubled down and pushed me away again.
We are the Rule. We are the unchangeable Law. You will not corrupt our purity! You are not welcome here. Leave or be dragged to the depths of Hell!
Again, I was pushed back and this time even the shard’s power couldn’t stand against it. Whatever it was, it was strong. So strong! I was falling….falling…
I awoke on my back staring at the sky. I felt my hands and feet bound tightly. I blinked and three blurry shapes morphed into three angry, bearded faces.
“The Heretic awakes! I get to start the torture!” The first face said.
“No! Tis my turn to apply the penance!” said the second face.
“Quiet! First, we allow the Heretic a moment to beg and plead!” This third voice was decidedly female, but still bearded. I tried to sit up, but was bound too tightly to move.
“Who are you?” I tried to mask my fear, but evidently failed miserably as all three of my hairy captors grinned devilishly. I activated Lore Sight.
Name: Turlough
Class: ?
Race: Satyr
Name: Sendough
Class: ?
Race: Satyr
Name: Draflough
Class: ?
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Race: Satyr
Satyrs! Real Satyrs. Ord’s Mercy…
“The Human wants to know? I will tell him!”
“No! Tis my turn to inspire fear!”
“Quiet!” The female sneered at the other two and then leaned forward to stare me in the eye.
“We are the Cloven Quartet! The Chosen of Gor!”
My jaw dropped. Chosen of Gor? Oh no…my low Faction!
-300 Faction Gor.
You are currently Disliked by members of Gor’s Faction.
Lore: Satyrs or Fawns are commonly found in deeply wooded areas of Aramyr. They tend to spend most of their time tending glades and groves, but are notoriously selfish, gluttonous and easily distracted.
Advanced Lore: Satyrs are weak against the Bribery skill and spells that affect Perception.
Perception, huh? That gives me an idea.
“Ha! His expression betrays his thoughts! He knows of us!” said Turlough.
“No! He knows of me!” argued Sendough.
“Quiet! He realizes his heresies against Lord Gor will now be answered!” Draflough sneered.
“Why are there only three of you?” I asked. “Isn’t a quartet supposed to be four?” My question was met with an uncomfortable silence.
“Confirmation!” yelled Turlough who leveled a finger at me.
“No! It is proof!” Sendough crossed his arms and glared at me menacingly.
“Quiet!” Draflough glowered at the other two who both hung their heads. Then, she stood over me and in a deceptively sweet voiced asked, “Where is our brother? Where is Curmlough? You dastardly monks stole him!”
“Nackered!”
“No! Kidnapped!”
“Yes,” hissed Draflough. “We know you have him up in your big, stone prison! Lord Gor knows!”
“He always knows!”
“No! He…always knows!”
I looked to each Satyr, but my mind was working through what they had said. They had mistaken me for one of the monk’s from the Abbey. A common misconception these days, it seemed. Yet, persuading three Satyrs who served Gor to believe a word I said due to them preemptively disliking me was a long shot.
“I swear upon Lord Gor’s Mighty Claw I have no knowledge of your brother’s whereabouts. I will gladly help…” My voice trailed off as I saw the Satyrs’ expressions get darker and darker.
“To swear upon the Claw…” Turlough growled and he drew a wicked looking sickle from his belt. I swallowed and glanced between the three of them, but I saw only animosity reflected in their eyes. It was time to act. If I could. Up until now whenever I had cast a spell I had always used my hands reflexively to choose my targets. With my hands tied behind my back, I would be attempting to focus my will upon three targets simultaneously and hope that I could still direct the mana where I wanted it to go. Something like this I would have liked to practice a few times, but with Turlough gripping the handle of his weapon and looking like he wanted to use it, it was now or never.
You have cast Minor Cube of Confusion!
The mana came easily, but directing it at three targets while bound proved more than I could handle. However, I did achieve a small amount of success.
Turlough is paralyzed!
Draflough is paralyzed!
Sendough resists Minor Cube of Confusion!
Turlough’s sickle fell from his hand and his mouth hung open as he and Draflough both stared in wide-eyed wonderment at the spinning cube that had appeared before their eyes. Sendough’s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked between his brother, sister and the cube. Then, his eyes widened and he backed away in fear.
“No…” he whispered.
“Stop!” I put as much force as I could muster into my voice and the Satyr froze. “Release me at once and I will not harm them.” I felt a pang of guilt as I saw warring emotions of panic and fear flash across Sendough’s face, but the timer on the spell was ticking down and I had no time for indecision. “Now Sendough!”
The Satyr jumped, then quickly ran over and snatched up the sickle his brother had dropped and with two quick swipes at the bindings around my legs and wrists I was free.
“Drop the weapon,” I commanded. Sendough complied and cringing he backed away. The poor thing looked like he was about to cry.
Ord’s Mercy, I feel guilty. What choice did they give me? The cube wore off just as I cast Congruency Darts and held them at the ready.
“Wha…how did you get loose?” Turlough gasped after he came back to his senses.
“What evil tricks have you employed, Human?” Draflough backed away. Behind her, Sendough sniffed.
“No! I cut him loose!” Sendough wailed. Draflough and Turlough stared at him in disbelief.
“Backstabber!”
“Turncoat!”
“Quiet!” I yelled and all three turned to stare at me. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, I spoke in a much calmer voice. “First, I am not from the Abbey. Second, I did not kidnap your brother. Third, I am trying to make amends with Gor, for I would prefer to be your ally rather than your enemy!”
The Satyrs shared a look amongst each other. Draflough spoke.
“So you say, Human. Yet, you look like the other Humans from the big, stone prison. I also cannot ignore that my gut instinct is to not like you. But!” I had been about to open my mouth to explain to her what having a low Faction score meant when she interrupted me. “If you were to, shall we say, make an offering to Lord Gor, here and now…”
“An appropriate offering…” interrupted Turlough.
“Give us a bribe!” Sendough added before Tulough smacked him in the back of the head.
“Ahem! An offering to Gor that he would find suitable…we would be willing to listen to your feeble excuses for denying Lord Gor’s supremacy!”
I didn’t know what they were talking about in regard to me denying Gor’s supremacy, only that he was the only God I was currently negative Faction with? Still, I looked into my Inventory to see what I could offer to placate the three ‘Chosen of Gor’ without further conflict.
Hmm, I doubt all this Kobold junk would interest them. Coin? Maybe. I wonder if…
“Here.” I set my final jug of Firebeetle Honey on the ground before them. “I make this offering of Firebeetle Honey to Gor through his intermediaries, the Cloven Quartet.”
“What’s this? Honey?” Turlough licked his lips and went to stick a finger in the jar. Sendough smacked his hand away.
“No! It is Beetle Effluvia!” Sendough went to stick his own hand in, but Draflough shoved him away.
“Quiet!” It is for Lord Gor to decide! All those in favor of accepting this offering?”
“Yes!”
“No! I mean yes!”
“Aye. We accept this offering on Lord Gor’s behalf!” Draflough said and licked her lips as she reached into the jar and scooped out a hairy paw covered in thick, dripping honey. The other two quickly joined her.
You have gained +75 Faction with Gor!
I suppose I couldn’t have hoped for more from a jug of honey. If I help them find their brother, perhaps they can be persuaded to help the people of Goodlabor? To think I was just almost done in by Satyrs! Gwynneth will never believe this.
The Satyrs were gorging themselves on the honey, pushing and shoving each other to dip their arms into the jug. I smiled in spite of myself, watching their good natured play.
They aren’t so bad, Gor bless them.
“It’s good honey, just keep it away from any open flames, alright?”
“No!” yelled Sendough and the Satyr looked around as if searching for a fire source.
Then again…
