Mortal Machinations

Side Adventure Synopsis

The rebel Veddek secretly rendezvoused with two other centaurs just across the border of the Protectorate of Sombar. These two had defected to Veddek's camp but when he revealed himself all were ambushed by Knights of the Duchy of Ulfland. In the following battle the defectors were slain and Veddek, heavily out numbered (and out-powered with the Eldritch Knight Eligos leading the guard) withdrew to find defensible ground. He knew of a nearby gorge and thought to defend himself atop it with his longbow until the enemy closed the range. But as he galloped into the gorge he adjusted his defensive tactics and, taking advantage of the terrain, stood his ground against the knights. To their vexation they found their initial charges were thwarted by Veddek's positioning. Unbeknownst to him a stranger appeared from hiding. Eligos fearing an ambush ordered his guard to immediately attack the bugbear bystander. Battle ensued and Veddek gave well of himself heavily wounding the scoundrel Sergeant Vrex. Alas he was outnumbered and hence lain low. Eligos thinking Veddek was slain proceeded to interrogate the bugbear named Hruug. Once he was satisfied with Hruug's story of happenstance he made an immediate withdrawal, teleporting away with his elite guard.

As official military of another state Eligos and his elite knights went beyond their jurisdiction by leaving their own lands and were in breach of state borders. This, if known, would cause an incident that the Wizard's Council would have to act upon.

After acquainting themselves the bugbear and centaur decided to couple their talents in the immediate pursuit of Veddek's cause. To this end Hruug accompanied Veddek to his clandestine meeting with his mentor Rath on the outskirts of Harting. This town lying just 20 miles away from Sombar City held one of Rath's many safehouses. After an indifferent appraisal of Hruug by the cleric Rath instructions were given to meet with Gordon, an intermediary of one Captain Lazarus of the Duchy of Ulfland. This meeting is to take place within the week for which time Gordon will be on hand at sunset of each day in the establishment known as Maxine's Udder. Rath knows little of Lazarus' motives but deems the gathering of intelligence worth the risk. To alleviate the threat of detection Rath has furnished the pair with Enhanced Hats of Disguise. Rath said he will be in touch and teleported away.

The pair left alone in the hut decided to pass the night in safety and set out early the next morning. On walking east along the road towards the Four Ways Well they were confronted by Gladys a peasant woman whose husband, Beagan, had proffered victuals to them the previous day. Gladys in a state of terror bemoaned the fate of her husband who lay gravely wounded not far distant. She led Veddek to his position, where Beagan lay bloodied and torn behind the trunk of an avocado tree. Gladys then moved towards Hruug imploring him to help. Hruug, either kindling a hatred for female humans or suspecting a ruse proceeded to punch Gladys full in the face. This did not have the intended effect of laying her low which alerted Hruug that something was amiss. At that very instance the wounded Beagan changed form into a feline humanoid and cunningly slashed at Veddek for great damage. Likewise the form of Gladys vanished to be replaced by a similar creature, similarly wielding two shortswords. Veddek and Hruug proved a formidable pairing using their many talents to best the cat men. The last surviving enemy tried to use his considerable stealth ability to flee the scene but was knocked unconscious by Hruug. The follower of the living universe then forgoing any restraint beat the prostrate enemy in the head intending to bash his life out of existence. Veddek sensing there was information to be garnered from the enemy dissuaded Hruug from further bashing. The enemy was stabilized, doubly bound then magically healed just within the limits of consciousness. Veddek, as a follower of St. Cuthbert the god of just punishment, cast his oft used Zone of Truth on the cat man. After many evasive answers and much execration the feline fiend revealed that he and his companion were minions of Ak'Chazar a dastardly Rakshasa necromancer of high order. Somehow he learnt of the pair's whereabouts and sent the feline men to assassinate them. Once enough information was gleaned Hruug dealt a Punishing blow to fatally reconstitute the fiend's form within the living universe.

The heroes are now on the outskirts of the farming town of Harting making their way to Sombar City...

Rath has tasked Veddek with uniting the centaurs that reside within the borders of Ulfland to help throw off the yoke of Duke Larrion. Rath has united rebels and refugees alike in various cells and bides his time to rise against the mad Duke. He sent for Veddek to meet with him in a secret location at the Four Ways Well on the outskirts of Harting, a farming town 20 miles walk (bipedal) to Sombar City.

Veddek through his own followers has connections with his own cells of centaurs within and without Ulfland. He too awaits the proper judgemnent from St. Cuthbert to strike. He operates 4 cells comprised almost equally of males and females. Two are within Ulfland with 27 and 29 centaurs, one is within the Protectorate of Sombar with 22 centaurs and another is in The Duchy of Argest with 25 centaurs. One hundred centaurs that are all eager to unite with their brethren and reclaim their plains in the north of Ulfland.

Rath, a human cleric of St. Cuthbert, has communed (Commune) with his god and has heard ominous tidings. Forces of evil beyond the power of Duke Larrion (said to be a high level Eldritch Knight himself) look to comprise a confederacy of villians. They seek all-powerful artifacts to unite their divination powers and seek out and destroy their enemies. Through his failure to scry (Greater Scry) on Duke Larrion, Rath has learnt that someone with great power now defends the Duke.

Recent Argest - Ulfland War

Duke Larrion launched attacks into the Duchy of Argest and crippled the army of Duke Gondar (Veddek was invovled in this war before coming to his senses). This was in breach of the laws set down by the Wizard's Council after the The Maelstrom Wars two centuries previously. Just as the Duke was on the verge of victory an attack squad of the Wizard's Council entered his headquarters and made his army retreat through various uses of enchantment and illusion spells. The Duke was geased and unwittingly led his army back to Ulfland. To his consternation and horror he found himself and his army back within his citadel in the capital Elturel.

Now he his faced with exorbitant fines imposed by the Wizard's Council. Fines that will invariably cripple the current ruling order. Many profess this is tacit approval of regime change. Duke Larrion rails against the judgement but continues to make his installments without seeming to overly tax his people or his coffers.

Maelstrom Wars

Once the Wizard's Council had interposed and ended the rule of the tyrannical Emperor God Faustian they were left the only significant power. They returned many lands to statehood but decreed new borders in order to separate these lands from each other. They do not wish to involve themselves in the machinations of states but reluctantly enforce their decrees, especially any cross border forays. This usually results in heavy fiscal penalties and an inspection from one of the Wizard's Council Attack Squads.

Hrüg

The feel of soft flesh bending under one's fists, the acrid scent of blood that's been freshly released from its bodily confines, the satisfying crack of snapped bones singing in one's ears... These are all sensations that give me a great deal of pleasure, but they are not the whole of me.

I hail from the monastery on Mt. Tolthor, deep in the dusty Central Mountains. There I learned that pain given and pain received are one and the same, and I gloried in both. We were a small group in my early years, but we did grow, and under the watchful eyes of our masters we trainees acquired prowess in physical combat tempered by a strict regimen of mental discipline. It was the latter that our masters prioritized, but it was the former that came most naturally to me.

Many years into my training I learned what I was, the circumstances of my accidental discovery by one of our order, and why my fellow trainees tended to shy away from me. All of this motivated me to push myself even harder, which I suspect was the intended effect of my being taught these details. If my comrades would not give me their respect then I would it take it from them, grudgingly or not. And this I did.

I am a monk of the Order of Tolthor now, and I serve no god nor mortal. All in the Ten Planes is linked into a single whole, and all flows through that whole in a continuous cycle of change. I stand here as I am now, but I tell you that the death of this form will only spur the birth of another. Destruction and creation are one and the same, and chaos is just as necessary as order. I champion neither, nor even the balance between them. I have been sent by my Order to wander the lands, walking the path I have been taught and teaching it to others who may want to learn. In time I will return to my temple and report on what I have learned, but for now I am content to travel with you. My name is Hrüg, and I thank you for the opportunity to take and give lives together.

Veddek

Once, I served Skerrit, God of centaurs, Lord of woodlands and community. A god of peace. We, his people, lived a tranquil existence, one with the nature around us. When I was small. When days were bright and my young eyes saw nothing in the world but sun and rain and seasons growing one into the other. This was life. And I served Skerrit then. But no longer.

On the eve of the Equus Moon in my ninth year, we centaurs were holding our most sacred of festivals. As we danced and sang and sought to catch a glimpse of Skerrit as he galloped across the skies, the forces of Duke Larrion descended upon our forests in the thousands. Deep in our revelry they caught us completely unawares. The human soldiers were in among us, killing warriors, capturing women and children. My mother and I were taken back to the Duke's keep with all the rest. We were separated, I being penned in with the rest of the young males. I didn't know then where they took her.

We were fed and bathed, but no one spoke to us or told us anything. Some of us fought against the guards or tried to rally the others to attempt escape. These were taken away and did not return. Once a day we were led from our pen out into a central courtyard and made to run by knights on horseback while fancy-dressed nobleman watched from the battlements. After running to the brink of exhaustion, we were put back in our cage.

For that first month, this became our routine, with never a word from our captors. We began to wonder what would happen to us. We wondered why they kept us and made us run. Worst of all, we began to forget what life had been before our capture.

Then a day came when we were led out into the courtyard. A large number of unfamiliar centaurs was already there, and we were placed in ranks next to them. We totaled about 150. Then the duke came out riding a massive black warhorse. He began to address us. He told us how strong we were. How magnificent and beautiful. He told us that we were the envy of all his knights. And then he announced that he wanted to give us a bit of entertainment after our long stay.

For our benefit, he had set up a jousting tournament. We watched as seven armor-clad knights rode into the courtyard. The first pair entered the lists, charged at each other, and both managed to miss.

The duke booed loudly and called to us "You see how clumsy these fools are?" He called for the next pair. They too charged down the lists, lances aimed at the other. This time one knight's lance smashed against the shield of the other, knocking him from his horse.

The duke called out again, " Good--but sloppy! You see how nearly he fell himself?"

The third group entered the lists. This time both lances glanced off shields, and the two knights remained mounted.

"Pathetic!" called the duke. "Bring out Kerred!"

We watched as the final knight, clad in green, entered his end of the list, but it seemed that there was no opponent. And then the great door beneath the keep opened and a knight came riding out. Encased in black armor and easily eight feet tall, he was a centaur. This was Kerred.

He took his place opposite the green knight and with the drop of the duke's kerchief, the two charged down the line. Kerred's lance fluidly settled into attack position. The green knight too lowered his lance with perfect aim. It seemed the two would be evenly matched. But as they neared one another, Kerred juked to the right and then slid in past the green knight's lance to plunge his own straight through the breastplate of his opponent. The force of the impact wrenched the green knight from his mount with Kerred's lance extending from his back. The centaur carried the impaled knight for several strides before dropping the lance, letting it fall to the dirt with its new owner.

He finished his charge with a long slow loop bringing him to face our host, no few of whom had taken up an exultant cheer.

"Centaurs!" called out the duke in a voice ringing across the courtyard. The cheers were silenced. "Centaurs," he continued, "are the greatest cavalry to ever live!" With this Kerred let out a triumphant bellow and began banging on his shield. I could not help joining in as the youths around me began to cheer.

"It is time to fulfill your destiny!" screamed the duke, and we, oblivious to what lay in store, cheered all the louder.

Thus begun our "training." In a practical sense, it was proper training. We practiced with the lance, the sword, the bow. We learned the charge and studied advanced martial tactics. But in a more subtle sense, our true training, was the slow takeover of our hearts and minds. Taken out of our native culture before we could fully understand it, the duke and his sergeants indoctrinated us into becoming mindless soldiers. We lived for combat. We were weapons. And few were more deadly than I.

In the years following I proved myself to be among the most martially talented of my brethren, and was soon placed in a position of leadership. Our first major battle was against a rival duke: Larrion had royal aspirations, and this was one of his last obstacles.

We rode through the enemy host like scythes through wheat. The destructive power of our cavalry was such that very few of us were even killed. We gloried in our strength. And the duke began his final consolidation of power.

It was shortly after this, when I was full of my own success and prowess, that I met Rath, the cleric of St. Cuthbert who would become my salvation. He came to me with news that my mother was alive and seeking for me. The cleric passed me a small symbol of Skerrit that she had always treasured. He told me that while we had been training for battle, our mothers and sisters had been bred like common livestock, producing a horde of Kerred's offspring, destined to fill the ranks of Larrion's armies.

I became incensed and vowed to kill everyone who had harmed my mother. But Rath bade me be silent and made me realize the futility of such an action in my current position. He told me to wait for the proper time, and then he left.

Several nights later, I woke to the cleric shaking me and warning me to keep silent. He led me through the darkened castle and out a side gate. We rode through the night until we were out of sight of the castle, and there we rested. Rath told me that upon hearing that I was alive and had become one of the duke's soldiers, my mother had risen up against her captors and tried to break free. In a violent struggle with her guards, she found herself spitted on no more than four spears. She was not long in dying. Knowing how my reaction would be, the cleric secreted me out of the castle.

"Why would you help me?" I asked him. "What does any of this have to do with you?"

He told me that once the duke had been a lawful and fair-minded ruler, but that the lust for power had warped his mind. The cleric had slowly been gathering strength to overcome him, but his position had been compromised. His only choice was to leave.

"And that's where we can help each other" he told me. So began my training as a hand of St. Cuthbert, the law-bringer. I have become that law. Justice comes in the tip of my lance, recognizing neither good nor evil, but seeking out wickedness wherever it resides. Retribution is at hand.