It was only an hour later that we heard the sound of hoofbeats in the distance. Not long after, we saw figures on horseback emerge from around the river’s bend. The General, along with the Crown Princess and a handful of personal guards, rode hard along the river’s edge, allowing them greater speed than if they had tried to take their pace through the forests.
The General nodded to us all as he swung himself out of the saddle in a graceful, practiced motion. “Good, you’re all here.” His eyes turned to the bodies on the ground. “And I see there’s been some trouble.”
“Yes, General, you might say that. Assassins struck us as we were preparing this rude encampment. They nearly got the better of us, and, as you can see, the Coronal Guard sent with us did not survive. That any of us lived is due mainly to the fact that they focused so much of their attention on her in the initial attack.”
The General nodded. “I knew that the kingdom had those it used to conduct… unpleasant business that any state needs to consider, but so many? That is something I wouldn’t have thought would happen in Silverwood. Something is very wrong indeed.”
Vestele stepped forward, “Unfortunately, you are correct. These were no ordinary assassins. They bore the mark of House Miawraek. Miawraek, as with House Faydark and some others, were driven from the elven kingdom of Ermshys, in the days before the Great Fall, when that kingdom still spanned much of the North. Those houses consorted with demons, attempting to breed magic and power into their bloodlines.”
The General nodded. “I remember the story. If I had not seen the two of you in action, with your wings exposed, then I would have believed them something of a myth from days long past. So, agents of House Miawraek are the cause of all this?”
“No, the responsibility for everything that’s happened lies firmly on the current queen. However, I do not doubt that Miawraek’s agents helped speed things along, and mayhap even set the queen on her path, when she was still a princess. For Miawraek is sworn to the service of Graz’zt, Demon Lord of Lies and Betrayal.”
She shook her head. “Whether the Demon Blades of Graz’zt came to support the queen due to her receiving the demon’s favor, or whether they twisted her to his service is immaterial, however. What we are seeing is a plan, long in motion, coming to completion. The prophecy may have sped things up, but this has been months, if not years in the planning. Certainly, the alchemic mixture used to taint the fields of Andor’s Hall is not something that could just be created freely on a whim.”
The Crown Princess nodded slowly. “Yes, I have wondered about that constantly, since I looked upon the poor souls of Andor’s Hall. There just doesn’t seem to be any point to it, beyond the betrayal itself.”
Siora sighed. “Unfortunately, it may be the case that we’re not dealing with mortal politics, here. The prophecy may have spurred mortals to action all over, but it is possible that the prophecy came to be due to the plans of gods converging without their notice. Plans that, while separate, mix freely with each other like waves building upon each other to form a tidal wave, crushing all in their path.”
Findelye frowned. “So, you mean that this could be the workings of the Demon Lord, through his mortal pawns, and that the plan’s goals might lie in the Abyss, rather than with us mortals?”
Siora nodded. “I am no scholar of the lower planes, understand, but it was taught to all of us in House Faydark that the currency of the Abyss is the souls of mortals who do not reach the realm of their chosen god in death, for one reason or another. The more souls a demon can claim, or steal, the more powerful they are, and the more they can force others to follow them.”
Vestele grimaced. “And the tainted grain corrupts the soul, twists it beyond all redemption, save by the actual intervention of the gods themselves. It may not matter what happens to this mortal kingdom. If all the souls in it are condemned to Graz’zt’s clutches when they die, then that will greatly increase his own power within the Abyss.”
The leader of the rangers raised his hand. “But this Demon Lord already has power, right? That’s why he has the title, and all, yes? What would he need with more power?”
The priestess sighed. “The Abyss is a realm of infinite planes full of uncounted numbers of demons of every type imaginable, and some that mortal minds cannot even comprehend, and it would be madness and death simply to look upon them uncloaked. In this land of infinite chaos, there is always conflict, as different powers strive to expand their realms at the cost of another’s, or to create their own realm, if they think they can get away with it. A Demon Lord that rests upon their laurels will soon find themselves beset on all sides by rivals and betrayed by underlings hungry for their own piece of the pie.
“What could the Prince of Lies use such a large infusion of souls for? It could be anything from starting up a war against one of his rivals, or perhaps expanding into a new plane. Or he might need them to fuel a ritual elsewhere, using them to further his larger goals.” She shrugged. “When dealing with such beings, it is best to assume that nothing is as straightforward as it may appear.”
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Findelye nodded. “But what of my sister? What could inspire her to go along with such a plan? Could she have become a cultist, lost to reason through her faith?”
Melinda’s Knowledge (The Planes) roll: 1d20+14 = 34 (Success)
I sighed. “It is possible, of course. However, there could be another reason. She could be storing up ‘credit’ with her patron, so that, when she goes to him in death, her station is raised beyond that of the common masses of damned souls. Transforming into a higher form of demon, like a Succubus or greater, rather than a dretch, mane, or lowly larva, as is said to happen to most souls who are bound to the Abyss.
“If, through betrayal, the queen condemned all the souls of Silverwood to the clutches of Graz’zt, who prizes betrayal, then he would surely reward her, especially if they entered into a pact. A pact would also explain why these Demon Blades are here, to help force the issue, and ensure that the pact is carried out. If souls are the currency of the Abyss, the queen may be hoping to buy herself power in the eternity of her abyssal afterlife with the souls of Silverwood.”
The General shook his head. “We will deal with the Queen’s reasons for her treachery, whatever they are, once we’ve secured the capitol. For now, what is the situation?”
The ranger nodded. “With the harvest coming in stronger than expected, the Queen called for a week-long street faire to celebrate, with food and drink from the crown’s own reserves. It has been quite popular with the people, I hear. Even the city guard was included in the festivities.”
“What about your rangers, Captain?”
“We’ve kept out of the city, for the most part. Rangers, as a whole, are ill-suited to city life, as you know. But we’ve been kept busy all the same dealing with monsters.”
“Monsters?”
“Aye, just the normal types, of course. There was a flock of cockatrices running around, and a few other nuisances. Normally, we let the adventurers or city guard handle things like that, and range further afield, but with the festival, well, we thought it best to stick closer to the city, just in case. Only thing out of the ordinary I’ve seen is a rise of beasts that have been touched by the lower planes causing trouble. Just a few more than normal.”
I interjected there. “Do you often have to deal with demonic creatures in Silverwood?”
The ranger shrugged, “Not normally, no. But about ten years back they started popping up, here and there. We checked, but there was no sign of a portal or anything like that. Never figured out what was causing it. Recently, in the last two or three years, they’ve started becoming more than just a curiosity.”
Findelye frowned at that. “Ten years ago? That would be about the time that my sister began buying up farmland, according to the records in Andor’s Hall.”
The General shook his head. “That can be no coincidence.” Turning his attention back to the ranger captain, he said, “What of the city itself? Has there been any report of sickness, of plague?”
“Some, but few people paid any heed to it. I would not have even thought about it, had you not mentioned wanting to know about the health of the city in your message. It is that time of year, after all, when colds and other minor illnesses sweep through any city or town.”
All of us who had been at Ander’s Hall winced at that. Shaking my head, I said, “Then the city is lost already. The taint, as far as we can see, has no cure. It is likely too late for those who are already sick.”
The Princess sighed. “It is worse even than you know. I spoke with the remaining elders of Andor’s Hall. Even after the survivors became besieged, they had people who got sick, and had to be put down before they turned and started a mob inside the walls. Each had taken a meal at one of the inns that got their food from one of the farmers growing the tainted grain.”
The General paled. “Then, anyone who has had even a loaf of bread or a draught of ale made from the tainted grain may be at risk of turning. And we would have no way of knowing until they got sick. Worse, if they manage to scatter, then they might possibly infect the rest of the country.”
The Ranger Captain was now as pale as the General. Looking back at the General and the Princess, he said, like a man grasping at straws, “But surely there must be something that can be done? We could, at least, work to sort through the sick and the healthy, and separate the two?”
I said, softly, “From what we saw at Ander’s Hall, within a week of the first people getting sick, they had turned, and mobs of the tainted souls began hunting and killing anyone that they could. The only reason the hordes were still in Ander’s Hall was because they sensed uncorrupted souls nearby, and were driven to add them to the horde. And when the horde was defeated, some still tried to flee, no doubt to start the process again.”
The Princess screamed in rage and anguish, startling us all. As our eyes met hers, I could see tears reflected back at me, held back by her will alone. “Though Naht-strat’holm is the capitol, and has been the symbol of Silverwood for over a thousand years, the only course of action available to us is plain. For the good of the country—nay, for the good of all of Orane, this must be stopped, here. The taint of this infection cannot be allowed to spread. This entire city must be purged.”
I just nodded, as did some of the others. The General breathed deeply. “Are you sure, your Highness? We could try and quarantine the city.”
“No, General. To quarantine the sick, you would have to lay siege to the city, so that none could escape. And you would have to keep guards around anyone you sorted out, to ensure that they did not become sick, and spread the taint to anyone they come in contact with. And if the taint started spreading through the army?”
The General nodded. “Then there would be no stopping it, and all of Silverwood may be overrun. Very well, I will give the orders. In two hours, we will have encircled the city. When that is done, my troops will begin the purge.”
The Captain shook his head. “Surely, there has to be another way!”
“I’m sorry, Captain, but the Crown Princess is right. We must end this, here and now, for the good of all. Don’t worry, I will task you and yours to the outer perimeter. Instead of purging the city itself, your task will be to hunt those who try to escape.”
“But—”
“Ahem.” The Crown Princess cleared her throat, looking at the Captain. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with both regret and authority. “By my authority as Crown Princess, I hold the power of low, middle, and high justice. I declare that any beings seen fleeing the city, without writ from the General or myself, shall be deemed a traitor and a threat to the people of Silverwood. The penalty for treason is death, and shall be carried out immediately.”
Her eyes focused on the Captain. “Will you carry out your orders, and uphold the oaths you have taken, to crown and country?”
The ranger deflated, head bowed. “As you will it, your highness.”
She stepped forward, resting a hand upon the man’s shoulder. “I take no pleasure in this. If there were any other way, I would never countenance the wholesale slaughter of these innocents whose only crime was to trust one in authority over them. But there is no other choice. Like a healer upon the battlefield, we must sacrifice those who are beyond our help, so that we can save as many as we can.”
The General just nodded. “Well said, your Highness. That only leaves one last consideration, getting to the Queen, and ensuring that she does not escape justice for her crimes.”
“Indeed. We must not allow my sister to escape. Options?”
“Well,” Fartooth chirped, “I have an idea.”