Difference between revisions of "Varnae (Chapter 27)"

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Varnae (Act V)#Chapter 27

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-Dear Diary,
-Breakfast, among barbarians.  The source of certain odors is now unnecessarily clear; these people do not believe in the power of dietary fiber.  My morning meal choices were Roast Rabbit (complete with ears), Roast Rabbit sans Innards (for those with delicate sensibilities), and for the gourmet, Roast Rabbit in an Unidentifiable Brown Sauce.  Without exception, the animals were served nearly raw.  At Khaleel's suggestion, we broke our fast at Atma's.  I have no idea why the Horadrim built a waypoint in Harrogath, but I thank them from the bottom of my heart.
-Before leaving, the mountain of meat who serves as Harrogath's blacksmith offered to set any item I liked with jewels or gems.  His people are fond of such barbaric splendor, I have seen.  Many times in the hills, I passed by some half-naked savage, grunting in the snow, who nonetheless shone with gold and jeweled finery, and whose weapons glittered with various shiny rocks.  Higher-status warriors positively gleam, though they may not have enough cloth among them to make up one shirt.  Deckard Cain has spoken of the northern tribes as being legendary for their heroic constitutions.  Myself, I suspect their vigor springs from their way of life; those not built like an ox are killed off at an early age.
-Though I have little cause to trust his skills as a jeweler, it amused me to hand over my Jade Tan Do, and see what he'd make of it.  Should he ham-handedly destroy the dagger, I would of course be upset, but every cloud has a silver lining.  That mountain of flesh would make an ideal servant.  The Jade Tan Do confused him (perhaps it challenged some larger = better dogma of his) but with unexpected ingenuity, he hollowed out a socket in the handle and set it with gold wire, ready to accept a gem.  More than that, he explained, risked destroying the strong enchantments woven tightly through the blade.
-Now, what to set in the dagger?  Emeralds provide death magic, and would enhance the Jade Tan Do and my magic still further -- but the dagger's blade is reddish-gold, and my current ensemble is red and white.  I cannot imagine a way to make green, even a small note of it, work with me.  A red gem or a demon skull would be safe choices, but not pragmatic ones, and I must bow to practicality.  Then again, the matter is moot if I do not have any of these things.  Let me see... a topaz... a sapphire... ah, a "shael" runestone!  One of these would lighten the weapon, quickening my strike.  Aesthetically neutral, yet highly practical; my best choice at the moment.  Curious things, runestones -- their appearance suggests a form of magic as ancient as my own art, yet they were completely unknown to me until a short time ago.  I wonder where the knowledge were hidden away for so long.
-Better prepared than ever, I set out to the higher mountains, where my enemy searches for the Worldstone.  Harrogath's wives and daughters, out corralling rabbits, stare as I go past; I must cut a fetching figure, though perhaps strange to their eyes.  The way is made easier by steps carved into the bedrock... with a rail beside them?  Yes, a hand railing, out here in the wilderness!  Perhaps these clumsy louts are top-heavy with muscle, and have difficulty with stairs.  At the top there is another waypoint.  Hmm... the Horadrim must have explored these mountains sometime in the past.  Obviously, they did not find anything of importance, or Destruction would know how to reach his goal.
-A small party of Plated Demons ambushed me out of the steppe, but without a leader they are no threat.  Perhaps they were scouts, or messengers.  Beyond is a vast open steppe, littered with Imps.  Yes, Imps, by the dozen!  Numbers do not help my foes: a single stab disposes of them, even Khaleel needs but three blasts.  What is Baal thinking, sending such ill-suited soldiers against me?  A few armored  Behemoths accompany them as riding beasts, but too few; perhaps one Imp in five can find a seat in their howdahs.  It seems my enemy cannot muster decent troops.  This battle is over before it properly begun.
-Continuing upwards, it appears my greatest enemy will be exhaustion.  It is fortunate that the mountains are so cold -- in Lut Gholein's heat, chasing down all these Imps could kill me.  Signs of nomadic savages litter the ground, for those with an eye for such things.  Piles of skulls and bones (probably those of their ancestors, left exposed to the elements) serve as territorial markers, or perhaps crude temples for their vulgar religion.  Curiously, these bones are somewhat animated: when I approach, the skulls turn to regard me, and occasionally toss out a crude weapon or a few coins.  Who could have guessed that the rites of Rathma might be respected in this awful place?
-Another unexpected novelty!  Stretching across the steppe is a wall, perhaps eight feet high, built of sticks and frozen mud.  Baal's forces, hastily assembled and ill-prepared, could not have made this.  Only the mountain's human (if barely) inhabitants could be responsible.  But what prompted these rude savages to bodge together such a structure?  Ah, Tyrael's words return unbidden to me: the inhabitants of the northlands have organized their whole lives around the protection of the Worldstone, to the exclusion of all else.  This primitive barrier must have been built in imitation of the protective walls around cities.  Strange... Harrogath is all stone.  There is plenty of stone in the area.  Stone is a much more durable material than mud, which would melt if the temperature ever rose above freezing.  They possess the materials, and the skill; why did these barbarians not make their wall of stone?  While I do not expect great things of them, even they can't be THAT stupid.
-Perhaps I should not be unhappy about the wall's fragility: Baal's troops have commandeered the structure, and armed its towers with hellfire cannons.  While Khaleel picks off the towers, the task of battering through the wall falls to me.  Fortunately, the sledgehammer was made with this purpose in mind, and I possess one of the most heavily enchanted hammers that exists.  Behind the wall is an shockingly clumsy wicker cage -- definitely demon-made -- with a few captive savages.  The sight is comical; even I, with my bare hands, could escape that cage!  Take away a barbarian's axe, and he falls to pieces.  Well... I should be charitable: they are unarmed, isolated in the midst of their enemies.  Certainly, they could escape with ease, but would never get far.
-At my earliest convenience, I cast a portal these fellows can use to return to Harrogath, and return myself.  Who knows?  Should Baal have better quality soldiers in his personal retinue (a likely possibility) I might need some cannon-fodder of my own to distract them.  While in town, I ask Nihlathak about the wall.  It seems it is one of many ringing the mountain, meant to slow an invader's progress.  Harrogath is an ancient city, built by some precursor to his people that he will not name; no living northman knows how to work stone.  All is clear now: in a distant age, a great people must have occupied these hills, and suffered some cataclysm which wiped them out.  Now, where great men once lived, a primitive race roams, ignorant of their art.  They must have been great artisans indeed, for Harrogath to have remained intact so long under the care of these savages.
-Now that I understand them better, battering these barbaric walls to bits is something of a pleasure.  It's almost an insult that these feeble structures were meant to imitate the strong stone walls of the ancients.  What might they have been like, I wonder?  Little outward sign remains, but they must have been a highly advanced civilization.  Harrogath's structures are large and spacious, quite unlike the few miserable huts I have found dotting the steppe.  They even laid out different kinds of stone, all strong and durable, so their varying colors formed decorative patterns in the columns and gateposts.  Yes... my first impression of the city's grandeur has been borne out, and has nothing to do with her present occupants.
-I am growing to despise these Imps.  They love nothing more than to teleport behind a rock or a bush, then laugh and vanish away as I approach.  I wish my studies had extended to assassin spirits, that would be just the thing for the little runts.  Smashing one of their tiny huts is a pleasure indeed.  All the same, a magical solution to the problem they represent would be convenient.  Decrepification does not prevent them from teleporting.  Their spells do so little harm, Attraction does not serve.  They move too quickly for Corpse Explosion.  Dimming their vision helps, but I am inexpert with the curse and its range is limited.  Ah, well;  were they a threat, I would alter my strategy to accommodate them, but these pests give me little reason to alter my habits, inefficient as they may be here.
-Another mud wall falls behind me.  This one had two cages, with plenty of muscular brutes to liberate.  Let the demons go hungry for a change.  Further up the mountain, I come across the unexpected sight of a Hell gate, glowing red over a fiery crack in the earth.  An invasion point for Destruction's troops, perhaps?  A staging post?  Or simply an opportunity to warm up?  Whatever it is, I am certain more demons wait on the other side, and it would be unwise to leave them at my back.  Should the gate close, I can simply seek out a waypoint; they are everywhere, after all...
-Hell does lie beyond the gate; specifically, an island in the River of Flame.  Like those near Terror's fortress, this island is artificial, built of stone blocks.  Unlike those islands, this one seems recently and hastily constructed, with large gaps between the stones and spots which nearly drop into the river's magma.  I must be cautious.  No large fortifications are visible above the river's shimmering heat.
-As seems to be Hell's habit, they have made a maze on the River of Flame.  In keeping with the theme, this one is supplied with Minotaurs.  Huge beasts bulging with brute power, they are strong, quick, and very aggressive.  Fortunately, they are not numerous; a large pack of them could be the death of me, particularly if they resist Khaleel's cold blasts or my venom.  With them come Plated Demons, and generals similar to Shenk; I had hoped he was unique.  Not that he was dangerous, but killing him made such a mess...
-This open maze has presented me with unique opportunities.  Frequently, I can spy my foes on the other side of an open gap.  The curse of Attraction causes much enjoyable confusion in their ranks.  I have made a curious observation: the "general" creatures (who may be related to Toad Demons) are using magic in a strange new way.  One will summon up some life energy, and use its whip to transfer that energy to a nearby Plated Demon.  The smaller demon swells with the excess energy, and after a short pause (long enough to run close to an enemy) it literally explodes.  In effect, a Corpse Explosion before the victim has died!  I am very glad to have first observed this from a distance.
-These islands are obviously a staging area.  Iron war wagons and pieces of catapults lie about in disarray; some were apparently driven about in such urgent haste, they fell into the river!  I cannot help but pity Destruction.  His only strength is in numbers, and perhaps a few tricks which are easily countered once they become known.  Any sense of urgency which possessed me has long since evaporated.  The spoils are of poor quality, but I can afford the time to make a thorough search of the mountain.  He will not escape my wrath.
-In Harrogath, Qual-Kehk is kind enough to thank me for rescuing so many of his men.  My presence seems to have humbled these great slabs of meat: I've hardly heard anyone talk about how weak and pathetic civilized men are.  Perhaps they could be even be educated, though I'll happily leave that to another.  To express his thanks, Qual-Kehk gave me a set of runestones, saying they should be used in a shield.  Of course!  These runestones must be the magic of the precursors, that lost civilization which once occupied this area.  No wonder they seemed so "barbaric" when I first laid eyes on them.  These primitives have a kind of magic, for the same reason they live in stone buildings -- they inherited both from a greater people.  I'm amazed I hadn't seen it before now.

Difference between revisions of "Varnae (Chapter 27)"

Latest revision as of 18:40, 12 February 2017

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