Cheers!!! I Believe I Suck At Being Evil

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| Reader Note: This has been
| sent to Brother Malkin, chronicler.
| At the Library of Bletherad.
| Also to Tiny.
| At the city of Haven.
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Good Master Chronicler of Light,
&
Good Master Burglar of Light,

I am sending this to both of you because time is short before we head to the next leg of our journey and ReSet shall likely be awaiting us.

Master Tiny, you seemed surprised at the land of my upbringing and I would prefer to share knowledge with those that seek it. My birth tribe is called the Etrinan. The Fortress was named in our honor as we had become allies to the Dwarven Forces just before the beginning of the Great War of the Fair and the Strong. We lived, fought for, and died alongside our small brothers of great stone and runic might. Our tribe still bears the runic weapons they made for us as a sign of loyalty and thanks. I have worked on a picture with Father Indaris, and I have taken to calling him Father Indaris now since he is the Leader of CrIsis upon land and I the sea. Master Chronicler of Light I am sure Father Indaris can paint one for you when we arrive for before this day is over we shall depart Caer Itom for ports of call in the eastern lands. Alas, only Tiny’s copy has the original Father Indaris painting rolled up with the scroll.

Now to the rest of my missive will shine upon specific events in New Haven, Haven, and Sekti-Abtu. A few hours into what was supposed to be a fantastic, restorative rest I was awakened by Tiny mentioning CrIsis helping the “Eye of Vengeance” with a dark priest.

“You had me at kill a dark priest,” Father Indaris and I nearly said in unison. Despite being in a war I am becoming very uneasy with how comfortable I am with murder. Maybe I should not be so surprised, I am a Minotaur, reportedly a spawn of the Old Ones, and I did fail to resist the call of Morcen. The Demon Rune Blade twin of Necrom. My friends saved me from becoming no better than my ilk trapped in the Lands of the Damned. I desperately want to believe not all of my race were sentenced there because we were given a chance to redeem ourselves. Though, if the rumors of Lord of Wisdom are true and he is a positive soul-born reincarnation of Xy – Power Incarnate then maybe it was pity for our enslavement?

Forgive me Master Tiny, the bold strokes and different style is the voice of Callandor, rune blade of the late Captain Overkill, and my dearest friend. We share everything and he uses me to write his thoughts down on occasion so history will remember that Rune Weapons have souls and therefore are people just the same.

I hope to sincerely regain the purity of my soul, but becoming tarnished and stained is no excuse for being a bad person, nor breaking bonds of fellowship given freely and with love. I just have to work much harder at it and to prevent me sliding any further into the abyss. Needless to say that the raid on the Temple of Set in New Haven is an object lesson in restraint. During the raid we removed the Set guards and hid them along the way preventing a guard rotation from spotting and alerting. Not having much time before the number of them missing would be unavoidable we pushed on till the good in my teammates and – I believe – the pieces of Osiris set off mystical alarms. Once we had penetrated the inner sanctum. Master Tiny charged in like Captain Overkill was woefully fond of doing. While I cannot confirm his battle cry, it sounded to me a bit like “Choppity Action!!!!!” In short order during lightning blasts he was turned to stone by a Demon Maggot! When I felt the Anti-Magic Cloud invocation go off, I charged in ad mist all the fighting and was determined to use an attack no one would see coming! My hooman transformation was dispelled by the cloud so I was there, naked for the world once again. I was so thrilled the dark colored robes I had shredded had been loaned to me by your crew Tiny. My other disguises cost so much to replace, so thank you!

Holding Callandor in one hand and pulling the Lawgiver’s Right Index Finger from the pouch slung under my right arm. I used the natural charge gift my race is known for among martial scholars and barreled to the rear using Callandor just for parrying any attack. Success I turned to the closest figure, a female Priest of Set I had mistaken for Mishlin the dark priest and cried out,

“BY THE HAND OF THE LAWGIVER!!!”

The priestess of Set EXPLODED and the blast ripped through her, High Priest Mishlin, and as my eyes followed it up I saw a sight of horror only Isis and Horus have witnessed. Master-Sister Caminata was ripped into to pieces before my eyes by the deific blast of my Lord and Savior ‘Finger’ being used as a dagger! All that began racing through my head was “,

“NOOOOOO!!!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE? HOW DID I BECOME THIS EVIL?”

I ignored the rest of the fight and ran forward to gather the pieces and remembering I has a Scroll of the Heart of Osiris that should let a priest or priestess resurrect her. Still the horror of picking up three-fourths of her face and trying to hold the squishy bits inside as I was covered in her blood! I had to lay her left hand and upper right leg in the cavity of her ribs to hold her heart and other squishy bits in as I looked for the chunk of her face that was missing. When you pull her other leg for the stomach of the enemy I almost wondered if she had been kicking him when it happened? We found every piece of her and raced back to the Temple of Bennu. I wouldn’t talk to anyone on the skift going back holding the bloody pieces of my friend and glaring with tears of shame and anger at anyone that tried to even touch me.

In all of my years, on my 53rd birthday I knew what it must feel like to be a monster. I will never get this image out of my head, her shocked lifeless eye staring at me with a small rivulet of blood running over it. In a joint ceremony using the Scroll I provided the Priestess of Bennu and Father Indaris beseech unto the Gods of Light for a miracle and it was granted. For me though it was like watching the horror in reverse. I half hoped the blast would come out of her and take my lif…

I’m am sorry but let me continue, after the placing of the piece we met with Bishop Rose Nodeki one more time and she is so overjoyed we remembered a promise as CrIsis that none of the current individual members were there for. Then I remembered someone whom was – Callandor! I brought forth the sword and the good Bishop remembered it fondly, touching the blade and her memories of seeing Captain Overkill hold it while talking as though he was somehow steering the whole of Palladium on course made her cry tears of joy. Callandor was at a loss for words being remembered at all, and in such a deep, personal fashion. I know our bond would deepen but I felt true strength in that moment as though she was touching me as well.

We teleported back to Sekti-Abtu after her departure, though the public ruse is that we were headed with the Bishop only to be diverted by the Gods. It seems I have come to accept that hoomans must lie to each other in order to preserve their egos from things being beyond their scope or understanding. Once back in the holy city we soon visited with the Master Wizard, Hasselthon. I asked the group and most of the group remembered what the Defilers said about always being allowed time to study and agreed to stay the 21 days it would take me to learn the spell Resurrection.

We also got to see Master Azariel once again as I learned that Fraevian was his teacher and also a Master Alchemist as well. Master Azariel told us that the three Scholars had passed on the research they found to Brother Malkin at the Library of Bletherad, and now were his paid assistants. He also let me know the Jeridu we met at the Lopanic Games did indeed find his way here to reunite with his fellow Jeridu, Xandria. It was then magic began pulling him into the back rooms to begin his studies anew.

That night we had dinner and Lord Raulf was able to meet the member he replaced. Both he and Master-Sister Caminata talked long into the evening. I kept trying to tell jokes but my timing was all off. I can’t look at Master-Sister Caminata with seeing her face break in two pieces with bloo….

Ugh, sorry I must have digressed but dinner on the 25th was everything I had hoped it would be. Spending all this time on Sekti-Abtu in my natural form was liberating and good for the soul. Finally, the day had arrived and I began it with donating two of the four remaining Dragon Coins (the rest I had sent through an account at the Gold Coast Trading Company to Master Alchemist Gabriel to pay for one of the gifts I had) in my possession to Horus to celebrate his birthday. I also dropped off Master Azariel’s present which was tools for performing diabolism and art of a mystical nature. Since the 25th was one of the two days I had to myself I spent it in the parks reading books of poetry from ancient Elves and Dwarves, using Globes of Daylight spells to play with some pets people brought to the park that like to chase them. I used my humor to gird myself for dinner and hoping enough had passed I could look at the elf once more.

When the hour came it was glorious, we were in one of the public eating halls and clearly the staff were amazed by the unique nature of our group. After a good hearty meal I stood up and talked about the ancient holiday of Horus Day and how we had celebrated it in my tribe when I still lived in the Etrinan Fortress. Next, came how I got around the city and bought all the gift when they were gone at a special meeting. Then I explained to the elf how sorry I was that her gift was upon Rogtilda and that it was an Ash Tree the crew was tending to in the Shrine Room on our ship. When she gasped and hugged me knowing a natural tree of her faith was awaiting her back aboard the ship was what I really needed. True mending for my nightmare laden dreams might finally begin. Father Indaris got a custom leather art supply case with shoulder strap and filled with new supplies (to which he used that day to capture Lord Raulf and the elf dancing). I asked Lord Raulf if he would be willing to accept the Invisibility Amulet as a gift to him since he was not around during the shopping trip. I was so happy when he acquiesced to my request. Master Asher I presented the Canteen of Blood Preservation so he could have what a kobold would drink and it always stayed warm and fresh with magic! He was so kind to act surprised saying he had forgotten, but I highly doubt he forgets anything, that sweet old man. Lastly, I was about to give Burlap his gift when he said he didn’t want anything he had everything he could ask for. When I jingled his gift still inside my bag his eyes bugged out and tune changed about face. It was heart warming to watch the look of wonder on his face when I pulled a complete set of silver bells forth for him. I think the road to healing for kicking him can also now begin for me.

While I am finishing this on the day we leave for Rogtilda I have one happy thought.

I might not be good in the eyes of my Lord and Savior, but I am the crappiest evil person I know trying to make the world a better place one person at a time. Since evil people always want to rule the world I shall conquer the world through kindness and good deeds and be the worst evil person anywhere.

Goals are important you know,

Xerx’ses Goldenhorn,
War Wizard of CrIsis,
aka: Captain Osric Orghallar of Rogtilda

>> Written by Xerx’ses Goldenhorn, upon the morning of the 5th of Algor, 71st Year of the Wolfen Empire, 3rd year of King Guy the First of the Timiro Kingdom, 344th year of the Dominion of Man, 3rd year of King Hafton of Wisdom, and 24th Year of the Western Emperor Voelkian Itomas II. <<

Rod Rambler picture by AZ-Rune Art, commission him at artist@agodrebuilt.org
Tiny picture by Jankolas.
Etrinan cave picture courtesy of Palladium Books.
Other pictures are taken from other locations on the site here and their credits are their respective pages and posts.