Kentry's Quest

[Malchaeius]

[ 31] [WARMASTER] Kentry: A Quest

Sun Nov 25 16:52:49 2001

To: all

Greetings Thera.

I send this scroll not because I seek fame, but because I was told to. It is a scroll detailing

my mission in honor of Athaekeetha, my god. I will start from the beginning, from how I

remember it.

A voice. A voice tells me to undertake a quest. It tells me to complete a task that would

be worthy of a follower of Athaekeetha, then it is silent. I sit down and I think. I am

within a quiet grove. It is a good place to think. What quest could I undertake? What

would test my body, my mind, my faith? What quest could possibly be seen as

worthwhile to such a great entity as Athaekeetha? I think on what being a follower of

Athaekeetha means to me, what motivates my life. I decide the answer is anger, hatred,

and love. The anger has always been within me, anger against that which I hate. The

hatred is against magic. The love is for that which magic corrupts. I think some more. I

decide that to be worthy of myself and my Lord, the quest must strike at magic. I must

aim at a stronghold of magic, one that I can charge into alone and unafraid, cleanse the

filth with purifying rage, and leave exhausted and bleeding. Of course...the Tower of

High Sorcery.

I make up my mind. I shall travel to the famed tower of high sorcery. I shall bring it

down and all those inside of it. I heft my mace over my shoulder, and set out. I leave the

grove and walk along the eastern road, through Rheydin. I traverse the Dragonteeth

Mountains and travel to the edge of the forsaken lands. It is a blasted place. I grit my

teeth and keep walking. At the days end I arrive in Miruvhor, and so I look for a place to

rest. I have a meal at the local tavern, and bed down for the night.

The morning comes earlier than I expected or desired, the orange-red rays of the sun

waking me from my exhausted slumber. It is actually quite pretty. I put my armor on,

thank the innkeeper, and make my way southward. As far as I understand, the damned

tower is hidden within the depths of a dark place known as the Shadow Grove. I feel a

chill at the mention of the name. I pass a fanged cleric on my travels, puffing out my

chest and toying with my mace so that he does not attack. I can look quite mean when I

want to. I continue to follow the path, and soon I am in a dark forest. It is not like the

grove I started in. There is carnage and evil looking beasts. I quicken my pace.

I keep the sun behind me until it reaches noon. I am almost there, I can feel it. The forest

has grown silent. The trees seem twisted and unnatural, and the light seems to be sucked

up by my surroundings. A hundred more paces and I am there. The entrance to the

Shadow Grove. I narrow my eyes. The tower is near. A feeling of resolve flows through

me, strengthening my limbs. In the pit of my stomach I can feel the fire of my anger. I

yell my war cry to Athaekeetha, and walk forth.

It is very disorienting. I feel evil seeping from the ground, from everything around me. I

no longer know which way I am to walk. I stumble across the path of a guardian, its hate

filled scream bringing pain to my head. I would do anything to be free of this place. I

run with my head down, not caring where I am going. I drown out the sound with a

scream of my own. What have I undertaken?

I wander for hours. Finally, deaf from the haunting sounds, I stagger into a clearing.

There is a very skinny man resting here. He can barely speak. I give him some carrots

and water. I feel as if I am out of the grove, and I could almost jump with joy. He feebly

points northward, and gives a slight nod. Once again I am filled with a divine purpose.

Nothing will stop me now.

I am at the bottom of some stairs. Something seems wrong. There are body parts

floating around everywhere. I smash them when I see them. They can't be natural. I

climb up the stairs. They are definitely the longest I have ever climbed. They lead to a

hallway, with more body parts. They die soon enough. I follow the hallway, feeling as if

I am going in a circle. More stairs, more body parts, more fighting, more climbing. I feel

the anger growing inside of me now. This is what I am destined to do.

I am at the top. I know this is where the strongest magikers hide. I give myself a

moment of preparation. There will be no remorse. I focus on the anger, I let it take

control. I run through the hallways, blood on my mind, a battle cry on my lips. I seem to

pass a necromancer and a hoard of skeletons, an illusionist, and a spellbinder. After I see

each one, I crush them. I cannot think, I must kill.

By the time I come to my senses, I am resting close to the very top of the tower. I notice

a few deep cuts where the skeletons must have gotten me. Pieces of my armor and flesh

are burned from one spell or another. But my mace, glowing with the vengeance of

Athaekeetha, is covered with the blood of the sinners. I feel partly satisfied. I allow

myself a few more moments to rest, and then I look to finish my task. I continue to

wander upwards, knowing that there were more to kill.

I am in an emerald room. There seems to be a greenish glow about everything. In the

center is a woman, the Grand Mistress of Magic. Just looking at her brings immense

feelings of hatred. She must have known I was coming: she glows white with some spell.

We do not speak. She knows why I am here. Her lips move, nonsensical words pouring

out. A stream of green liquid shoots from her hand, hitting me in the chest. Acid covers

me, pouring over my arms and legs, but it is too late. I smell my rotting flesh, but I

cannot feel it. I am beyond pain. I feel as if the whole world is pushing on me. I cannot

breath, my vision dims. Hatred, pure hatred is all I know. Anger courses through me. I

must destroy this THING. I swing my mace. It slams into her side, an expression of pain

escapes her. I swing again. Again. She must die. A flash of light and flames erupt

around me: she has cast another spell. It will be her last. My mace flies at her head, and

as it passes it removes most of it. She falls to her knees, blood spurting everywhere. I

have succeeded.

I slump to the ground. Feeling hits me like a tidal wave. Suddenly the pain in my arms

and legs does not feel so insignificant. I stem the blood flow with a bandana from my

sack, and rise to my feet. I walk over to her corpse, spit on it, and offer it to Athaekeetha.

He accepts, and I smile as it is consumed.

Strange. I do not feel as if I am done here. There is something else.

I look around the room, searching. I close my eyes, and focus on the uneasy

feeling I have, the feeling I get when I am around magic. I walk, blindly

following the feeling, letting it get stronger. I feel as if I am going to

vomit, but I push on. A few more steps and my head begins to buzz. The

strength is taken from my body, and I feel as if I am going to explode.

This must be it. I open my eyes. Before me is an altar, an altar dedicated

to magic. The entire room is a symbol of magic and its heinous gods. The

name Mircea travels in and out of my head, echoing throughout my soul. I do

the only thing I can think of: I lash out. I kick at the altar, doing

little damage. Grabbing my mace with both hands, I swing for all I am

worth. *SMACK*. It hits hard, and a web like crack crawls over the altar.

The feeling of unease intensifies, the word is now a scream inside of my

head. I answer it with my own, "ATHAEKEETHA!" Another swing, and the crack

widens. A few more, and it is rumble under my feet. I do not stop until my

mace is too heavy to lift. The noise has stopped, and my stomach feels more

secure. Now I am done. I feel satisfied. I have done something for this

world. I have destroyed part of the filth that is magic. My resolve to

continue to destroy magic is fortified. I smile. The tower does not seem

so sturdy anymore. I decide it is best to leave now, and think on my

actions later. I call out to the chasms, and am aided by an old friend. I

travel back to Rheydin on the wings of the wind, and fall into slumber.

[Malchaeius]

*Warning*

As you can see, it is from 2001. We do not use Thera anymore. Still, it is a nice blast from the past.