Confusion in Kongasa

Ancestor forsaken jungle as far as the eye can see, in some places it is so thick not even the sun’s light can breach the leafy canopy! Strangling vines constricted the Transport Circle’s marker stones, and a myriad of flowers surrounded it which at first I mistook to be a welcome of sorts. I was wrong; each of the brightly coloured posies was a viciously disguised trap! Poisonous blooms left by the savage indigenous Kongasans to catch the slow minded unaware and usher them quickly to the next plane, had I not been on guard, even I may have fallen foul of the cunning ruse. A simple spell taught to me by the mighty Implar of the Mages Guild withered the flowers away to dry husks, and I began my trudge through the overgrowth.

I sat for a short time with my back to a giant Kapok tree and awaited my guide’s arrival. The Kongasa on reflection is a horrible place, the jungle was sweltering with humidity so high that the air bled enough water that each breath threatened to drown me within my armour. Finally after what seemed like an age the stones marking the edge of the Transport Circle flared with mystic light, squinting against the light (which was unlike anything I had ever seen emanating from a Circle in my entire life!) I raised my hand to shadow my eyes and missed the climax of whatever had possessed the stones. A cool breeze washed over me and the light died, blinking starts from my vision I observed my guide stepping through the withered flowers and into the Kongasa.

My guide was named Solstice, I had worked with him numerous times over the years and I was yet to find a dark dangerous place the Fey Wanderer was not familiar with. He smiled and bowed his head; I will never be rid of the unease a Fey’s smile invokes. Together we forged into the jungle, in search of the Temple of Morhd a cursed place I had been told nestled in the depths of Kongasa. Our progress was steady if not a little slower than I would have liked, it was further slowed by several encounters with the indigenous population. Lizards that walked like men, giant Ologs festooned with bone fetishes and in possession of a temperament far fouler than the rancid meat stench on their breath! These clashes were pleasant distraction from the monotonous marching and hacking at iron hard flora.

On the eleventh evening we discovered the Temples boundaries, powerful Necromantic wards within which no life blossomed, had it not been for the thickness of the foliage surrounding them the Fane of Morhd would have been visible from the Circle I arrived in. This posed us a peculiar problem; the wards were clearly very powerful, if the rumour that brought me here was true they had protected the cursed shrine from interlopers for more than a century. In my rush I had neglected to pack the majority of my arcane devices, something I rue, I had luck would have it brought a spindle of Spell Tempered Silver wire! Unrolling it and tethering it to two small rocks which I placed at the edge of the Wards Solstice under my direction channelled no small amount of magical power through the wire, burning with a brightness enough to illuminate the death touched glade the wire became thin band of raw power. Using the tip of my blade I sliced into the Ward, knowing that the empowered Silver would act like a bulwark against the Necromantic blight I was sure I could push through its barrier as I would a Ward around a Faction camp at one of the Heartland meetings. Success! Solstice and I tumbled through the ward, our balance stolen away by the obfuscated force behind its creation.

Our intrusion must have triggered some arcane alarm as no sooner had we regained our footing Unliving beings came at us, shambling broken things so eroded by time that their limbs barely obeyed the baleful malice in their hollow eyes. Easily put to sword, but what followed them, issuing silent command was no rotting meat puppet. A Lich, its tattered black robes still bearing the history faded sigil of its master Dracos.

“Who dares come to this place” cold as the grave the thing had escaped, the Lich’s voice sent a shiver of fear up my spine but I denied it. Even the horror of its gaunt, skeletal face had no more effect on me than the poisonous blooms.

‘”I seek audience with your Ancestor, his madness will be ended” I knew Solstice would stand with me, just as I knew the Lich would summon its master as I commanded. The blood of Albion’s heroes runs in my veins, I have stood against foes more deadly than this one and I could tell the abomination knew this, it had read it on my face.

“Dracos will not come here” anger flared in me, how dare this creature deny me! The silver of my blade flashed as I stormed forwards.

“Then I will go to him!” a swell of magic dark and fearsome slashed out at me, a whip of shadows that tore a jagged line down my enchanted armour. I would not be undone by such crude power, Solstice returned a blast of power and allowed me the time I required to run the breathless cur through. Its second death was final, and as its ghostly essence fled its crumbling remains I followed.

Deep within the Shrine, its mysteries lost to the ages, a doorway sat unused and neglected. It was through this doorway the Lich fled our plane, it is through this doorway I intend to follow. I will take my wisdom, power and the sense of my reason to the Plane of Unlife. Dracos will listen to me, or he will be destroyed.

So until next time my loyal readers I bid you farewell and bid you wish me luck in my quest!

My life is once again a glorious adventure! Albion Prevails!