#Lore24 – Entry #331 – Fantasy Month IV #26 – Averting Disaster, and A Very Messy Final Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

A wealth of knowledge is, more often than not, a blessing, though in this case, I feel perhaps it was more a curse, for it turns out I was very correct in my speculations before we delved into the swamp.  Our journey into the depths was slow and fraught with dangers, from diseased trees and plants animated by the foul magics of Malvaxor, to lizardmen and other creatures of the swamps, driven mad from their diseased state, and horribly mutated so that their bodies would literally explode into a mess of diseased pus upon death.  Gresilda worked furiously to ensure we were not severely affected by these diseases, though I admit that none of us were entirely immune to feelings of great nausea and general discomfort during our trek, and all of us would begin to feel the effects of the sickness as we delved ever deeper.

Still, through our determination and no small bit of bravery, or stupidity, perhaps, that only adventurers tend to possess, we pushed deeper and deeper.  Towards the center of the swamps, the land grew thankfully firmer, and we started seeing signs of draconic ruins, which had been used by the lizardmen as their home for some time by the look of them.  Here too began to encounter the cultists of Malvaxor, diseased like their victims, only not suffering from them, rather, drawing strength from their foul god through his afflictions.

The cultists had surrounded the site of power and were absorbed in an extended ritual of infusing their god’s foulness into the standing stones as I had feared, the very essence of the god’s foulness already blighting the lands around us, its reach growing steadily wider.  Their numbers were many, and we had to resort to hit and run tactics to deal with them, but ever so slowly we whittled their numbers down until we could approach the standing stones and the leader of the cult and her closest acolytes, her body already consumed to the point of basically being a living vessel of disease itself, perhaps having become some form of undead creature.  I won’t relate the details of the battle; suffice to say we were pushed to our very limits, and very nearly met with disaster due to our weakened state, our infections growing worse seemingly at the will of Malvaxor’s priestess. 

In the end, though, we triumphed, stopping the cult and ending their ritual before it could be completed and could corrupt the standing stones.  The power of the infection, magical in nature, began to weaken almost immediately, the primal essence of the ancient stones at the heart of the swamp acting to cleanse the immediate area within their aura of Malvaxor’s influence before more slowly spreading throughout the rest of the swamp, though we would be long gone from the area before it would begin to heal.

We would rest in the center of the standing stones after cleaning up what we could of the mess, what wasn’t cleansed by the stones themselves, and would complete our final ritual the following day once we had recovered from our ordeal.  This rune appeared upon our chests, resonating with the others already upon us, signaling that we had proved our devotion and would be allowed into the ancient dragon’s vault. 

We didn’t even consider returning to Vindinium, for we were only a few days travel from the ruins in which we started our journey and were quite anxious to see what treasures lay within.  Following another day of rest, we set off, back toward the ancient temple with renewed vigor, the end of our quest in sight.

#Lore24 – Entry #330 – Fantasy Month IV #25 – A Cult Most Perverse

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

It took us just over a day and a half before we encountered any gnolls as we drove across the grassland plains towards the swamps.  For a wonder, they were not immediately hostile to us, unlike our previous encounters with the other monstrous humanoids of the region, and simply watched us from a distance at first, though I confess to feeling a certain hunger in their stares.  They kept their distance, perhaps judging our intentions as we crossed their territory.  As we came within sight of the swamps late on the third day, the gnolls finally approached us with a casual loping gait, barking and cackling in their own tongue as they approached.

Wary, though certainly curious of their behavior, we paused our advance, myself taking the lead in our greeting to them.  I knew not their language, but they knew something of the common tongue, however crude and broken it was when they spoke it.  This close, I noticed too that they seemed sickly, their fur marred by boils leaking a yellowish-green pus that, when the wind shifted, smelled quite disgusting.  Their spokesman pointed at Gresilda, crudely naming Erisaya and indicating the holy symbol upon her neck and saying “healer” in a questioning tone.  They motioned to the curious affliction I had noticed and then back in the direction they had come, the gist of their plight being that a terrible sickness had overtaken their tribe, many had died, and more were sick like them. 

Though Risai and Shassk were against the idea of aiding the gnolls, Gresilda’s goodly nature demanded that she at least examine them and see if she could determine the nature of the affliction.  Wary of spreading the sickness amongst ourselves, she took proper precautions to protect herself during her examination of the hunters, asking questions as to when it started, any strange occurrences and the like.  Through our discourse, we learned that the gnolls had first encountered it in the animals they had hunted, a few at first, then more, and through deduction, we determined that it seemed to have come from the swamps based on their descriptions of the animals and nature of its spread.  The gnolls likewise stated that they had not seen much of the lizardfolk in many days either.  Gresilda then asked about any strange travelers besides ourselves, though the gnolls were not aware of any, though one made mention that another hunter had mentioned strange chanting coming from the swamp on the last full moon, and greenish lights from deep within. 

Gresilda told the gnolls various herbs to gather, describing their appearance when the gnolls were not familiar with our names for them, told them several times how to prepare them and even made them repeat it back to her several more times.  She also told them that it would only slow the sickness and alleviate the worst of the pain, that the true source of it would need to be dealt with in the swamps, and that, Erisaya willing, we would do just that.  With that done, the gnolls sped off, barking to their companions who had stayed back, the lot of them then loping off into the plains.

It was only then that Gresilda informed us of her suspicions, that this was not a natural plague, rather a magical one, created by followers of the dark god Malvaxor.  She had dealt with such sicknesses before she had journeyed into the Wildlands, as an apprentice, and curing the malady meant dealing with the cult that created it.  Villages on the outskirts of the Empire were the most often targeted by these cults, but some outbreaks had been known to spread to the larger cities, even the capital on occasion.  Her reasoning seemed sound to me, given my historical studies that had mentioned such things. 

Though I had no proof at that time, I surmised that perhaps the standing stones we sought hidden in the depths of the swamp, may also be related to the sickness that had afflicted the gnolls.  Even as we neared the swamp, there seemed to be a growing sickness in the land itself; the animals had already become scarce, the plants pale and drooping, if not already dying.  I cannot say exactly where my inspiration came from, perhaps a combination of my long hours of study or a divinely gifted spark perhaps, but the idea suddenly formed within my brain that the centralized location of the stones, the connected nature of the various sites, and the wealth of primal energies beneath us could make for an incredibly potent and dangerous way to spread a magical disease over an exceptionally wide area quite rapidly. 

With this idea voiced, our venture into the swamp suddenly took on an entirely new purpose.  I could only hope I was wrong, and that it was simply me overthinking matters.  Regardless, Gresilda blessed us with protections against disease, and we ventured into the dank, diseased morass, hoping and praying that I was wrong.