Blood of a Demon
Clys - January 15, 2006
The Temple of Atal'Hakkar. Clys had studied this place, talked to
scholars and scribes and passers-by. She had scouted around its
fringes, caressed its stone corners with her fingers, peered into
its depths and let its aura permeate her. One thing was certain
-- it was a dangerous place.
The Atal'ai trolls infested the place, following their shaman
leader Jammal'an, worshiping the demon Hakkar who they called a
god. Jammal'an claimed that Hakkar promised immortality to the
Atal'ai people for their loyalty, and that when Hakkar returned
it would be granted. Clys hoped to discover if this Hakkar did
indeed possess such power. If so, could he be controlled? Was it,
perhaps, some attribute of his blood or his flesh that was all
that was needed? As always, Clys was vitally interested in
anything that could unlock some of the mystery surrounding life,
death, undeath, and the various states thereof.
Then there was the matter of Lord Ravenholdt. The Master Assassin
had asked Clys personally to retrieve a key from the Temple, a
key held by a dragon named Morphaz. It wasn't clear to Clys how
the dragon had come to possess the key, but she agreed to steal
it back. Ravenholdt was known for his generous rewards, and the
challenge itself was intriguing.
She asked for help from her friends. Plundering this sunken
temple was not a task to attempt alone. Danlily, of course, she
didn't have to ask. The mighty Taurs offered his help, and his
pink shirt. Thrysta, the powerful and dangerous priestess also
offered her aid, and Apachrune, The Captain, said that he knew a
few things about the temple and would be pleased to lead the
expedition.
It was more than Clys could have hoped for, these able and
powerful allies to accompany her. As they swam across the Pool of
Tears that surrounded the temple, she smiled to herself. Some
days were just good.
Inside, they found much resistance. The Atal'ai fought viciously
to protect thier little domain. Clys was surprised to find that
many of them were already undead, or zombies, or phantoms. There
was definitely some power here that could give life, or undeath.
There were also many strong creatures patrolling the temple halls
-- dragonkin, slimes, oozes -- all mixed in with the trolls and
ghosts of trolls.
But the party did not falter. The Captain showed a keen
intellect, figuring out the puzzle of the Altar of Hakkar in just
a few moments. It was he that directed the party around the
outside of the hollow cylinder that formed the interior of the
temple. They cleared the way to six statues, each with a
different sequence. By manipulating the statues, they were able
then to open the portal to the inner part of the temple and
release the guardian.
The guardian himself was quite powerful, but no match for the
five. Soon they were within the lower reaches of the temple. Clys
could smell death everywhere, mixed with the dank musty scent of
stone and vines.
The group battled their way ever deeper, until at last they stood
outside the sanctuary of Jammal'an himself. They could here him
inside, preaching a dark sermon to the enthralled Atal'ai who sat
before him in rapt attention on wooden pews. A sickly green glow
emanated from his person.
Carefully, Apachrune got the attention of the worshippers, row by
row, without alerting those in front of them. Each group was
dispatched in the hallway, without the mad ceremony ever being
interrupted. At last, there was only Jammal'an and his guardian.
Jammal'an came out of his trance and realized that intruders were
present. He attacked with incredible strength, drawing upon some
dark charisma that flowed through him from the Nether. At times,
each of the party found their minds taken captive, and watched in
horror as their bodies changed into large montrous creatures who
then attacked their own allies. Clys wept inwardly as her own
body hacked at Danlily, forcing her bloodily to the floor.
As soon as she managed to regain control of her body, Clys
attacked Jammal'an with renewed vigor. It appeard that only she
and The Captain still stood, and only barely. But Jammal'an
himself was bloody and weakened, and Clys' daggers flew like
swarms of angry bees. Apachrune drew lightning from the very air,
and at last Jammal'an fell dead at their feet.
The others were revived, thanks to Apachrune's shamanistic
magics, and they all celebrated as Jammal'ans head was removed
from his body. Clys was pleased, although still puzzled.
Jammal'an had weilded great power, that was clear, but Hakkar had
not shown himself directly. And it did not appear that Jammal'an
had any control at all over Hakkar; quite the opposite. This was
disappointing. She would have to pursue this matter further.
There was more she must learn about Hakkar.
Finally, after all had rested, they explored the remaining
recesses of the Temple. The dragon, Morphaz, was hidden in a
lower room. He put up a terrible fight, throwing them all about
like so many sticks, and drenching them with acid spittle, but in
the end he fell. Clys found the key, hidden in his belly pouch.
Lord Ravenholdt would be pleased, she thought.
There was one final denizen of the temple. The dragon called
Eranikus, or more accurately, his ghost. The party looked into
his chamber, but decided not to attack him. He appeared much more
powerful than the others, and they had no reason to slay him,
really. At least, not this time.
So much learned. So many new questions. Wasn't it always that
way? Clys thanked her companions for their powerful assistance.
Each had come away from the temple with some form of treasure,
and the experience itself had been worth the trip. Hakkar was
still a mystery, but at least she had the head of Jammal'an to
experment upon.
The RAS wanted to examine the head, also, and after that Clys
would deliver it to another troll, an outcast, who had promised
her that if she slew Jammal'an he would reveal further secrets to
her. It had been a very good night.