The Open Seas

When I finally saw Piratejim again, he was nearly bouncing with excitement. Clearly he had some good news for me, and before our drinks even arrived at the bar in Sanguine, he was raving about the things that had happened to him while I was gone. Amidst his adventures, he apparently found two new recruits for our group of adventurers, and better yet, secured enough materials to construct our first raft.

"So it's finally happening, you get to be a real pirate?"

"It's not much, just a raft, but it's a start. And I already am a real pirate! Maybe we can use it to board some stray merchant vessel or..." he rambled on, outlining several profitable scenarios and ways to build his own fleet. I smiled and started in on the drink that had finally arrived. I let him finish telling me of the ship and the new recruits before I got started on my visit to Sandstone.

Recalling that night, the Darkness crept into my mind again, and I decided to leave out the part about the guardian speaking to me. It was proving difficult to forget.

"Hunting these artifacts sounds like a pretty big deal, maybe something we can take on in the future, but not yet," I finished.

"Mm, I suppose you're right. Besides, there's no water near Sandstone! We need to get our new vessel out on the waves as soon as possible! And, I know just the place to take it to." Redham ordered more drinks and we talked well into the night, until finally, drowsy from too much ale, I staggered up the stairs to get some sleep. Redham continued to drink long into the night, chatting up the local patrons.








A few days later, the new group stood along the shore waiting for Piratejim to arrive with our hard earned raft. We took our best armor and weapons with us, and plenty of supplies, in case we ran into trouble on the water. We didn't want to lose the raft to some random band of pirates, that was supposed to be our job, as Redham continually reminded us.

Beside me stood Publius, and next to him the two new recruits, Pangalactic, a fire wizard, and Llemon, a dwarf, the first I'd seen! Very strange folks, but they fit in with the group all the better for it.


Another hour passed, and Piratejim at last came floating down the river on our very first raft.



It was small and quaint, but it was ours. We all quickly boarded and shoved off towards deeper waters and the open sea. The water frothed around the sides and as we got closer to the ocean I heard the cry of gulls. The salt from the waves collected on my burnished steel armor.

Redham couldn't be happier, and I finally believed that at some point he must have been a pirate, because he handled the craft and the sail well and with familiar hands.




When we got out to open water the rest of us got our fishing poles out and cast them deep into the ocean's waters. Soon it became a competition to see who could catch the most swordfish. It turned out to be a great way to get to know Llemon and Pangalactic, because when the waters are calm and the fish are biting your almost forced into a jovial and talkative mood. Only Piratejim stayed quiet as he guided our ship to unknown lands.






The journey was long, and after a time even fishing began to lose its appeal (that, and we were beginning to run out of room to store our catch) So with the sun setting and little else to do, we turned to sparring on the tiny vessel.


The results were about as good as anyone could have expected. The fighting was good natured, but it soon got carried away and someone ended up overboard, trying to stay afloat in their heavy armor, chasing after the raft as it sailed away. It was good for a laugh, until we saw fins poke out of the foam in the distance.

"Redham, stop the boat, Publius is overboard and there are sharks!"

"Damnit guys, I just wanted one trip without someone dying! This is why we can't have nice things!" Piratejim shouted as he dropped the sail and tried to steer the boat around. Publius was in full panic now trying to crawl up the ramp and back into the boat, slipping over the wet hardwood.


Where once there were two fins, now there were three, as other predators gathered to see what was causing the commotion. Llemon took out a shortbow and began firing into the water, but the blood just attracted more beasts and drove them into a frenzy.



They began throwing themselves at the boat, sometimes attempting to bite it, not acting like any sharks I had ever heard of. The crew was pretty terrified and we began tossing fish overboard to try to sate our pursuers.

Piratejim turned the sail and it caught a good gust, pulling us ahead of the feasting sharks. The crew cheered as we left the fins behind. No one poked so much as a toe over the side of the boat for the rest of the journey, and things went smoothly for a time.


We weren't safe yet though. Piratejim called to us when he saw land drawing close on the horizon. We were coming up on Yssam, a jungle island much further north than we'd ever traveled. It was a place full of terrible beasts and even more dangerous people. We approached the beach under cover of night, praying no one had spotted us as we ghosted to the sand.

"Once we hit the beach we're going to have to charge into the jungle in a dead sprint. There's a vault and a bindstone north through the jungle, if we get killed before you make it there, that's the end of the raft, and we'll have no way to come back." As Redham gave instructions to the recruits I marveled at how life could still be so incredibly difficult despite being unable to actually die. If I was killed and PirateJim didn't we'd be split off with an entire continent between us. Little chance of seeing one another again after that, and our small guild would die an early death.





"So as soon as the raft is secure, I want everyone to follow me through the jungle, stay as quiet as possible, but do not stop for anything."
"Quiet? Sprinting in this? How?" Publius said, knocking on his metal breastplate.


"Just don't make more noise than you have to, and don't be stupid!" There were nods all around, and Piratejim turned back to the wheel to guide is in. I took a steadying breath and got ready to charge.

The Nithron Return

The sun was shining brightly over Hildershall when I returned through its gates, triumphant and proud. In my mind, I could hear the horns of heralds welcoming me back.

Iain Deepwode was at his usual spot, working at his desk. His face lit up when I strode up to him, but I figured it wasn't due to my safe return. His eyes were transfixed upon the crown I held before me.



Taking it carefully from my hands and inspecting it, he whispered to himself "This is not exactly how the Diadem was described in the books..." It was true, the Crown didn't look as magnificent as Iain implied it would be. In fact, it looked fairly mundane, and very faded with age. "Well Signus, you did a good job. Our mages will determine if this is the real Diadem. Its power may not yet be fully awakened. Someone will be along to pay you shortly, but I imagine now you wish me to tell you what this is all about?"

Iain spun a long tale about Agon, centuries ago, and how, somewhere between the fall of the Chaldean Empire and the present day, a race of golden skinned beings called the Nithron reigned over the land.



They were tall, giants by the standards of men, and possessed powerful magical abilities, not least of which was immortality. Death was possible through combat it seemed, as all the Nithron remains found on Agon bore the marks of a violent death.

They were few in number for whatever reason, and lived more as lords rather than a race unto themselves. They ruled over the lesser beings of Agon and used them as tools of war in a game against other Nithron leaders, and forced them to construct colossal buildings and monuments. Some were still around, and as Iain described them, I realized I had seen some before just outside of Sandbrook.


But just as suddenly as they appeared, they died off, taking their magic and secrets with them.




"But now Signus, the dungeons and caches and burial chambers which stored their wealth have begun to fill with terrible monsters again. Guardians. Sealed off from the outside world and gathering dust for centuries, these tombs are now alive, and the artifacts within glow with power. Something is returning, and our organization, the Sons of Riada, seek to use this power. Will you help us track down more artifacts?"


Throughout the story I'd sat in wonder. Until now, it seemed all the great events and deeds of the world were long in the past, buried in history books. Now Agon had become a place of perpetual war without meaning, with not even death as an escape. The Usurper Gods that once drove the conflict have long since fallen silent. How could I not jump at a chance to be a part of real history?

But, I still felt something was wrong. A light was burning in Iain's eyes, a lust not for scholarly mysteries, but for power. Was I right to help this man? Well, maybe this magic would finally give the Humans an edge over our enemies and free us from this purgatory. It would be worth it then, certainly?







A day later I stood outside the ruins of Sandstone, a city that Iain said was once ruled over by a great Nithron King. When he died his central treasure, the Dragontorc, vanished with him. The Sons of Riada were hoping that it had returned to the mortal plane, as the Diadem of Dawn had. It was my job to look for it.



The city was dark and decayed, the stagnant air was filled with grit and sand. Most of the stone buildings had long since collapsed, but a few impressive temples remained. Along the edges of some of the buildings were stone pits. It was not difficult to imagine prisoners getting tossed inside them to fight for sport in a time long passed. Between the buildings, where there was once ground, now existed only shallow sea of mud, as if the entire city were sinking, or perhaps, rising again.



I searched the temples first and it wasn't long before I found the treasure chest I was looking for. Upon opening the chest however, I discovered only some commonplace loot that would hardly be fit for a new recruit.


Baffled, I continued my search. These ruins had no life to them, no creatures or defenders, no magic. I was beginning to think that the Nithron hadn't returned to this particular city. As night fell however, my mind was changed. After hours of silent searching, I felt a wave of energy pass through air and my hair stood on end. I stopped moving to try to hear around me. Silent, save for the occasional gurgle of the mud. I was about to continue my search when I felt a second pulse immediately followed by hissing all around me. Still, I saw nothing, but an overwhelming sense of dread settled over me.

From out of the darkness crept a large number of skeletons, and one cyclopean monster. The sword it held in its skeletal hands was almost twice the length of my entire body. And then, It spoke to me.



"Trespasser." It whispered. The voice felt slimy and rotten, and oozed out over my mind. It was almost enough to make me wretch. My vision darkened and my breathing slowed, and I was transfixed. It took step towards me, arcane energy swirling around its body. "You walk on sacred ground. Here rest the gods you shall not disturb. I keep the land pure for their return. Thou must be purified."

And then, It leveled a blast of energy at my body. I flew backwards into the wall, my instantly feeling weak. Smaller skeletons swarmed towards me, while their dark master simply walked away. I pushed myself to my feet, quaffed a potion. Feeling strengthened I pushed by the minions and charged straight at the retreating monster.



A bubbling hissing noise came from Its mouth as it turned to engage me. It was laughing, and as I drew closer, I didn't blame It. I may as well have been running headlong into a fortified keep. It towered over me, blocking the moon and stars. "The land must be pure, the Dragon must return."

I thrust my sword forward, and hit an invisible force, slowing my swing. Again I struck, this time pushing through the barrier and lodging the sword into the leg of the monster. Hissing laughter again came from it's mouth, and my sword was stuck. It's bones creaked as it raised it's great weapon above its head. I took cover behind my shield, but Its swing easily split the flimsy defense in half, and the blade bit deep into my bones. Screaming, blood pouring from my body, I fell backwards as the sword came down again. Hissing bubbling laughter, and then all was black.



My second "death". It felt worse than the last, much worse. I rose again at the Hildershall bind stone, sick and weak. When I had recovered somewhat, I returned to Iain Deepwode and told him I had decided to abandon the search for the Dragontorc. He was not pleased, but as I told him my story, he understood why. Instead of looking disturbed though, the hunger for power returned to his eyes. He dismissed me, but instructed me to return again some day, with help.

The encounter left me deeply unsettled. I could still hear the voice in my head, making me feel sick and disturbed. I was not yet ready to deal with immortals and Demi gods. Not even mentally. My best option was simply to return to Sanguine and see what Redham would have to say. My time in Hildershall was at an end for now, but from that day a shadow stayed on my mind. Agon had suddenly become something much darker.

The Mystery of the Nithron

With Publius in our ranks, our fortunes continued to increase. We built a name for ourselves in Sandbrook and more and more citizens began requesting tasks from us. We escorted merchants, recovered valuable items, scouted out and brought back word from other cities, and even took out a rather powerful goblin encampment. One of the poor goblins had gotten it into his head that he was a noble, and called himself the Duke of Stabby. Truth be told he was quite a challenge, but he fell like the rest.

Soon, the larger threats of Sandbrook had been dealt with, and we felt it was time to move on to a town that needed us more. Our task was still to drive back the evil creeping across Mercia. We thought this would be best accomplished by splitting up and exploring. So with an agreement to meet at the pub in Sanguine in a week, the three of us set out on our own.


It was good to be traveling my own path again. I didn't stray very far from Sandbrook while I was with Piratejim, and I quickly felt the wanderlust building the further from the Sandbrook I got. But even as I looked forward to the trail, fear crept back into my mind. I had grown too comfortable in the company of my friends, care would have to be taken to make sure I didn't end up on the wrong end of an Ork's greataxe or being hounded by an Alfar raiding party.

As I traveled I found ruins and cities occupied by beasts, evidence of the decay of civilization. I even found a proud Mirdain city completely infested by hivekins.



A bit further south I came to a great mountain rising up next to the river that had originally carried me into Agon. To my surprise, there was a fortified city nestled on the other side of it. Judging from the beam of light coming from it, the city also had a bind stone. The sun was fading quickly, so stopping here to rest and ask around seemed like a logical thing to do.



Apparently my name had traveled a good distance, because the folks of the town were familiar with me, and I was quickly pointed to one Iian Deepwode who had work he needed someone to take care of. After a little searching, I found the man idling by a desk at the far end of town. As I approached he stood and addressed me.

"Ah, so this is the fighter from Sandbrook I heard so much about? I hear that you've come to Hildershall looking for work!"

"It is true, sir," I replied, pleased my reputation had indeed carried outside of town. "Sandbrook can handle itself on it's own for now, and new recruits are coming in soon, so I sought to put my skills to the test elsewhere."

"Well then you've come to the right place, recruit." Iian said grinning. "I have a task of great import that needs to be completed. Something... troubling has resurfaced." Suddenly he stopped, and eyed my silently for a few moments. I shuffled my feet and waited. At last he shook his head and continued, "Skilled though you may be, I think I need to witness it first hand to be sure you can handle my assignment."




"There are important things stirring in the world, things rising again which have not been seen for centuries. If you want to join history in the making you must first prove yourself to me. Outside this city there's a cluster of ghost spiders and a sarlid camp. They have a symbiotic relationship; wherever one shows, the other group is quick to follow. They trouble us little behind our great walls in Hildershall, but travelers are getting torn apart. Take care of them for me, and then we'll talk again." With that he abruptly sat back down at his desk began writing, as if I were already gone.

I wasn't sure how to react. I was a bit insulted, dealing with spiders for a town that isn't even threatened by them? But my curiosity proved to be stronger than my pride. I immediately left out the city gates into the darkening wilderness, planning to tackle the problem before the sun rose again.




I found the spiders easily enough, they glowed green and winked in and out of sight like large fireflies. They were killed swiftly.

The sarlids, however, were a bit of a challenge. They had a strong pack mentality. Whenever I managed to corner one, the others would blast me with magic, weakening and slowing my body, and then they'd close in. It was all I could do to keep their vicious swords for tearing me to ribbons in my weakened state.



However, with a few potions and some ranged fighting, eventually the sarlids and spiders were both finished. Exhausted, I returned to Iian, ready to hear the rest of his tale. He was quite surprised to see me so soon. His surprise only grew when I dropped a bag full of spider legs and sarlid swords on his desk. He looked through the bag, nodded, and stood once more.

"I see you are a hard working recruit, Signus, as well as skilled. Perhaps you are right for this job, though I'm still not convinced you can handle it on your own. What of the other recruits I heard you traveled with?"

"We've gone seperate ways, for now. Whatever you have in mind for me, I'm sure I can handle on my own."

At this Iian frowned and scratched his chin, scrutinizing me. "We shall see. You are strong and bold, but perhaps stealth may be a greater ally in the task to come. This will be your final test, and if you return to me, I will reveal all I know to you." He paused to clear his throat and then continued. "I have a team of archaeologists digging somewhere out west, and they have recently discovered an important tomb. Inside was a legendary crown: the Diadem of Dawn. I had it shipped here immediately, but the caravan was ambushed by troll lords and they took it off to their hovel to the south of here. Recover the Diadem from them, and return it to me."



I wasted no more time. History is a particular weakness of mine. I had never actually heard of the Diadem of Dawn, but I was very eager to learn more. It wasn't far to the hovel, though I could smell it before I saw it. It was a great ditch in the earth, with stone huts and pools of muck inside, a typical place for trolls. With very little thought, I charged straight into the hovel, planning to slay all the beasts and claim the crown from the carnage. I had dealt with trolls before.

I had not, however, dealt with troll lords.




They are massive terrifying beasts, with axes that could easily split a man in half. It did not take longer fighting one before I realized I was completely and utterly outmatched. Like a coward I fled, and continued running, hearing growls behind me. I finally hit the ocean, and collapsed panting and bleeding into the surf. I camped nearby for the night, and in the morning, approached the situation with a much better plan.




After crunching on some very human looking bones, some trolls had drifted off to sleep, and I crept into the camp. I decided to check the small cave like structure in the heart of the hovel first.



As I sneaked into the main chamber and gazed at the skeletons hanging from the ceiling, the gravity of the situation hit me. In this small room was a sleeping troll lord. If I woke him, one shout and the others would come flooding down the tunnels, and there'd be no room to escape. My journey would come to a swift and sudden end.



Shaking slightly, I moved further into the room, and had to stifle a burst of laughter. The chest holding the Diadem of Dawn was sticking out plain as day, and it was right infront of me. They even put it up on a pedestal.






Free of worry, I opened the chest, grabbed the Diadem, and sprinted out the way I came; all idea of stealth cast aside. There was a great roar from inside the cave as my fleeing footsteps woke the troll and he and saw he'd been robbed. His friends began throwing rocks my way and grabbing their weapons, but it was too late. I was out of the pit and out across the plains laughing to myself before most of them could even wake.

And with that, I took off for Hildershall.