He Who Rules...
Balasar Firetongue's Tales
Excerpts from Balasar Firetongue’s recounting of The Godsmouth Ossuary…
And so it came to pass, that the Four came to the Godsmouth Ossuary. They knew not of its origins, nor its reason, only that they were sent there to accomplish a task. They found themselves within the Ossuary’s Grand Cathedral, surrounded by eight statues of formidable men and women, only one of which they had any idea of who it was. For those not familiar with the Four’s association with the Great Elminster, he was the Sage of legendary Shadowdale, Blind Seer of the Prophecy. At the time, they had not yet met him, only heard of his legend.
But I regress. The Four stood within the Holy Cathedral, familiar with its Jergalian motifs, yet confused by its anachronistic imagery, wondering what to do next. Wanting to leave no stone unturned, Soledad Horndoggle suggested the southern door to complete the map he was scribbling. Though Pantsful Aptshaper Longbottom had his eye on the hidden doors he felt certain were behind the statues, the Four open the unlocked door to the south to find a long crypt-like hallway. Within they encountered two apparently insignificant cave scorpions that for some strange reason compelled Plato de Camarones, her eyes having glazed white, to uncharacteristically charge them. In a matter a seconds, the Death Dealer was struck by a scorpion’s stinger, causing her to immediately flee the room and run blindly through the Ossuary, all the while cursing in some unintelligible language. Fearing a similar fate, the remaining Three and their trollkin companions backed out of the hallway and trapped the scorpions within. A headache for another time…
As Soledad Horndoggle scouted the unknowns for their crazy companion, the remaining two searched the statues for any hidden doors. No sooner had they moved half of the statues to reveal their secret doors, Pantless received a magical missive from Soledad Horndoggle alerting them to a swarm of flesh-eating cockroaches he had mistakenly disturbed. While the roaches gave them some trouble, along with an undead vargouille that surprised them from behind, their tales of frustration are not what is important here. For that we must skip to the World-Crypts they were about to discover.
Again, I’m sure you all know the details of the Crypts, but few know what the Three found within.
- The statue of Elminster concealed seven perfectly preserved corpses each with archaic holy symbols of Sune with a crude harp engraved on the back, wrapped around their necks.
- The second—hidden by a statue of a hooded, robed figure with a cracked, blank face—held a roiling wave of flesh that formed into a lemure that was quickly banished, clearing a room that held no secrets.
- The third crypt—protected by a finely groomed, exquisitely dressed man standing straight with his hands folded in front of him—was home to two zombies and a spiraling comet engraving that was crudely defaced.
- The fourth—protected by the statue of a finely dressed human male adorned with a blacksmith’s smock and strange tools—held the most frightening of occupants, a crazy black and white tiger-man who was hell bent on Brother Scree’s death. Now, I’m sure you’ve all heard the stories of Qa’dhi and the race he birthed, so you know its a miracle they survived with but a few scratches and a bite. Soon after exiting the Crypt the Ossuary shook slightly as if from an earthquake.
- The statue of a beautiful, barely clothed half-elven woman with pupils of miniature suns guarded the fifth crypt, a sweltering room with desiccated remains of a gnome, lizardman, and pixie. Crossing the crypt’s threshold, the Three were overcome by a psychic wave of animalistic, yet euphoric, rage, causing them to feel as if their very essence was being ripped out of them.
- Behind the three-from statue of her Holiness—the midwife, reaper of death, and mad prophet—a shadowy crypt held a strange four. Little did they know that everyone has their messenger.
- The seventh statue—a tall man dressed in robes with a large pointed hat, a long beard, a staff in hand, and a longsword at his hip—contained an old, rusty glaive trap that nearly took of Soldedad’s head before grinding to a halt. Trap averted, the crypt held nothing.
The crypts and their mysteries explored, the Three moved north in search of their missing companion.
Now, if you’re paying close attention, you might be wondering, what of the Four’s trollkin companions? While I can not answer for dear, deceased Gerlak, I can tell you Balasar was not the man I was meant to be, and as Caen blew apart under our feet I looked upon myself and found myself wanting…