I'd like to get something off my chest if I may.
Over the past few weeks, I've gotten PMs from folks who claim to be "fellow authers" (despite their accounts having no stories), claiming to be "a big fan of [my] work" and "truly impressed by your writing style and creativity" (despite no faves on their accounts either), offering me a spot on a "collaborative project".
I'd like to tell these obvious spammers who seem to think I'm stupid three simple words:
CUT IT OUT!
I swear, these jerks never go away, they're like the gas you get from eating baked beans. Honestly, maybe I'd be more convinced that they were "fellow authers" if they knew how to spell "author". As Peppermint Patty once said, the world may end tomorrow, but I wasn't born yesterday.
Now that I've gotten that off my chest, let us continue… And be sure to stay for a surprise at the end!
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Shadowchasers
The Demonskar Legacy
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Chapter Ten
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Empty Places
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The door opened to reveal a spacious subterranean chamber, with a look more suited to a Viking feast hall than a meeting room. Great pillars of smooth stone supported the weight of the building above, and between those was an open space dominated by a great table around which two dozen high-backed, comfortable-looking chairs were situated.
Seated at one of those chairs was a man, clad in a workingman's tunic of clean linen reinforced with leather patches. He was older than any of them (well, except Red Feather, obviously) probably about fifty or so, but still had an air of vitality about him, and his muscled hands seemed as though they only needed to hold tools to make them complete. But the most noticeable thing about him was his helmet. This full-head bronze helmet looked like a welder's mask had been converted into something a knight would wear.
The smith, a mighty man is he, with large and sinewy hands, and the muscles on his brawny arms are strong as iron bands. Nichole could barely keep herself from saying that old verse out loud. While his outfit was clearly not something an actual blacksmith would wear, it did suggest it, like what a blacksmith would wear if it was a profession that needed a dress uniform.
"Good evening," he said to them. "Please come in, make yourselves comfortable, you may call me the Foreman. We will begin once the others arrive."
"Uh, thanks," said Nichole. "We were hoping Gregory was here, where -"
"Actually, Ms. Belvins," he said, with a disappointed tone, "we were hoping you could tell us. Hopefully, tonight will shed some light on what the Brave Crusader has gotten into. I personally believe - oh, excuse me."
Brave Crusader? thought Nichole. She tended to hold Gregory in high regard, but that seemed a little too grandiose.
The large door had opened again to admit two more members of the group. One was easy for them to identify, despite his ram-like mask, it was Maxie, the jovial chef from the Maw of the King above. Seemed he hadn't changed out of his work clothes before coming.
The woman with him, however - whom they would later learn was called the Exiled Princess - only Malakar recognized. Her clothing looked more like lingerie, with knee-high boots with heels, opera gloves, long hair arranged in ringlets, and a crow-like mask that stood out against the rest of her, an odd combination of sensuality and formality.
Dorisan - or rather, the Honest Merchant - crossed the room and poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter on a sideboard butted up against the far wall of the chamber. He did not offer any such hospitality to the newcomers, and when he returned to the table to speak to the Foreman, his soft tone and body language indicated that their conversation was not open to them. An awkward silence resulted at the far end of the table, where the Shadowchasers and Malakar had gathered, all of them feeling like they were at the "kiddie" table at Thanksgiving dinner.
Sonya, typically the catalyst for chatter, was quiet, feeling underdressed; Maddie, on the other hand, was nervous, the masks everyone wore, while well-made and elaborate, gave their hosts an empty feeling, like a complete lack of identity. Maybe that was the point.
Likely going to be a boring party, she thought. Unable to simply sit still and wait, she turned and walked toward the one part of the walls of the room that looked interesting. Stone reliefs had been carved into the walls, and upon closer examination she could see the quality of the work, depicting a series of scenes in sequence across the wall from left to right. A short, robed figure with a great beard, carved in profile with a noble cast to his features was prominently featured in most of them. A wizard, Maddie thought, examining one scene where the man was depicted raising the massive walls that shielded Redgorge. In other scenes, the figure was shown with a winged woman who was offering him a battle axe wreathed in symbolic flames; in another, he was wearing armor, holding the axe aloft and calling down divine lightning against a horde of terrible, monstrous creatures.
"Suramar Spellmason," a voice said, interrupting her contemplation of the artwork and drawing her attention back to the table. It was the Exiled Princess who had spoken, her eyes aglow with an inner fire as she regarded Maddie. Belatedly she realized that the far door had opened again, and that two newcomers had joined the company; a woman with a mouse-like mask and a maid's outfit (this was the Frugal Quartermaster), and a short man with a wolf's mask.
"The founder of Cauldron," the Exiled Princess continued, "who dedicated the Redgorge to working for the greater Good of the region." The way she said the word "good", there was no mistaking the capital G; the word clearly had a greater meaning to her.
Maddie studied the reliefs closely, focusing on the one that showed Spellmason with armor. Most likely, he was a battle-mage, not an easy discipline to master. But then, a dwarven wizard was odd to begin with.
"Ahem," said the Foreman's voice. It seemed everyone was here. Maddie returned to her seat with the others, the crow-masked woman taking her place closer to the head of the table. Dorisan pulled out a chair and seated himself near the middle of the table, straddling the invisible line that seemed to separate the Foreman and the Wandering Minstrel at one end.
"Thank you for coming," he said sincerely to the Shadowchasers. "My apologies for not adequately thanking you for your intervention on my behalf… before."
The Foreman was now sitting with a small anvil on the table in front of him, with a hammer beside it. He cleared his throat again, and said, "This meeting of the Chisel will now come to order, I am certain everyone knows what the agenda is."
"It does indeed seem the current agenda has been… compromised," started Dorisan.
"I would say canceled, actually," said the Town Crier. "Our foe bides its time, it would seem..."
"Well, I believe," the Dorisan began, but was interrupted by Nichole.
"Uh, excuse me," she said, not exactly certain whether she even had a right to speak. There were no objections, so she went on. "This 'foe' would be…?"
The Frugal Quartermaster answered, "Someone who will be referred to as such until we learn an actual name." The sarcasm in her voice was evident, but not directed at Nichole. Rather, it seemed addressed to Dorisan.
The Foreman sighed. "It seems that he – or possibly she, to be completely fair – has managed to avoid being identified as the one holding the reigns. We have been tracking this development for quite some time, although the actual source of danger has remained cloaked in the shadows, not revealing its true nature. The Honest Merchant had attempted to force the issue, but it has only made things worse."
It was starting to come together now. As Dorison would explain to them in detail later, he had hoped to put the council ruling Cauldron in a no-win situation by using the Old Law of Peers, something the entitled snobs who founded the city had hoped would keep them in power. Had Zhent been roped into accepting the challenge, Gregory would have at least humiliated him publicly, possibly replacing him, and putting himself in a position the Chisel could exploit. Had Zhent refused (a far more likely possibility), the council could have been called out as hypocrites, and it would be easy to rally the already upset citizens of Cauldron into action.
But he had never counted on the depths they would sink in order to maintain the status quo…
The Exiled Princess snickered. "Obviously, the Last Laugh threw a monkey wrench into the Honest Merchant's plan. Or rather, played him for a fool."
"I would prefer the Exiled Princess refrain from personal remarks here," said the Foreman. His hand now rested on the hammer's handle, and the annoyed tone suggested to the six mainlanders that this had been a problem here before.
Dorisan angrily stood up, turning to face the Princess. "Better to die free than live as a slave! You should know that more than anyone!"
"Peddler! You count lives like money! No difference to you, eh?"
Then the Wandering Minstrel spoke up. "Everyone, please! Let's not argue here, it could have been worse!"
"Worse?" said the Frugal Quartermaster. She stood up, walking towards the Honest Merchant as she spoke. "Not likely. The Last Laugh kills a man and turns the protest into a riot, then two elementals are 'accidentally' unleashed upon civilians, several well-meaning townsfolk, and our guests are arrested for simply trying to help -" She stopped to indicate the Shadowchasers, making sure everyone realized she meant them. "- and then the Lord Governor decides out of the, ahem, 'charitable' act of pardoning them all, out of the… 'goodness' of his heart. So now, everyone sees him as a forgiving authority, the thugs under his sway are seen as victims, our detractors see us as terrorists, and to our supporters?" She leaned over Dorisan. "We all look like a bunch of jerks because we practically invited them!"
"Enough!" The Foreman finally lifted the hammer and slammed it upon the anvil, causing it to shake. "The Frugal Quartermaster will return to her seat this instant!" She nodded, and reluctantly did so.
Nichole noticed here that she had a pendant on her belt, a small wooden carving shaped like a bundle of wheat. She recognized it, the symbol of Berei, a Shadowkind deity of agriculture and prosperity. Hmm, she thought. Then she noticed her slightly pointed ears and richly tanned skin… Some sort of elf, maybe? Or maybe…
"We have enough difficulties without squabbling like children,' continued the Foreman. "I believe the Hardy Shantyman had something regarding this whole debacle that needed to be addressed?"
"Aye," said Maxie. He stood up, starting to speak in a tone that sounded both professional and concerned. "Well, as you all know, Lamour has ordered someone here apprehended - along with anyone aiding or abetting. No doubt, he knows where that person is."
All eyes looked at Dorison briefly, obviously the one Maxie was talking about. He had been convicted and sentenced to death in absentia. It was now clear that no expense had been spared in the attempt to apprehend him.
"This is the purpose behind the bivouac bein' built outside of the city. Zhent is personally leading a squad of Alleybashers, and as my sources tell me, Zhent plans to use these troops to secure and search the town."
The Shadowchasers exchanged a look as the gathered members of the Chisel reacted with incredulity.
"This does not bode well," grumbled the Frugal Quartermaster. "The people of Redforge will resist such an atrocity... at least some will."
"I cannot believe that the Lord Mayor would allow such," said the Exiled Princess.
"There is much that I likewise would not have believed, a year past," Dorisan said wearily. "But many things have changed."
Nothing quashes a rebellion better than executing the leader, thought Nichole.
"With such a large force," said the Frugal Quartermaster, "I doubt they expect us to simply let them in. Trying to force their way in would be folly on their part. The walls can stand an assault from anything they can muster."
"They may be able to muster more soon," continued Maxie. "There have been, uhm, unconfirmed reports of fire giants in the surrounding area…"
Everyone gasped. "Lamour is working with Snure's men?" shouted the Exiled Princess. "He could not be that stupid!"
"Not him, perhaps," said the Town Crier, "but as the Honest Merchant has said, things have definitely changed for the worse."
"Well, uhm," continued Maxie. "Assumin' he is mad enough or stupid enough to ally with Snure's forces, the city's interior defenses would hold for a while. I believe most everyone in Redgorge would fight to the bitter end, but the cost for both would be dire. If he isn't stupid enough, that would give Zhent an option that is potentially worse."
"A siege…" said the Frugal Quartermaster. "Placing the city on full lockdown would keep us in as much as it would keep them out. Supplies would last a few months at most."
"What about the docks?"
"Sealing them prevents us from using them too. It would inconvenience Cauldron as well, but they'd still have use of Kingfisher Hollow. It would be an expensive setback for them, but not unrecoverable."
"They'd likely charge us for the cost, anyway," said the Town Crier. "I don't suppose negotiation would work?"
"Zhent is a lot more approachable than Lamour most of the time," said the Foreman. "But if there's one thing I know about him, it's that talking him out of something once he has set his mind on it is like trying to draw blood from a stone."
"Uhm, may I say something?" said Hank.
The Foreman looked around to see if anyone at the table had any objections. Finding none, he said, "Go ahead, Mr. Richards."
"Ahem," started Hank. He stood up and put his hands behind his back, and said, "I'd like to share a short anecdote here…"
"Oh brother," said the Exiled Princess. "So long as it is short."
"About two hundred years ago, give or take, where we come from, there was this person of some importance named… actually, let's call himself that for now, a Person of Some Importance. This is the type of man who would stand out in a crowd, he was large and imposing, but not in an intimidating way. He had some ideas that were both unorthodox and controversial, yet captivating. As you might expect, his ideas were the type that not everyone liked.
"As fate would have it, he got into a schism with this Arrogant Lout who challenged him to a duel. In public.
"Now, this Person of Some Importance wasn't a violent man, and this Arrogant Lout had seriously put him on the spot. If he refused the challenge, everyone would think he was a coward. If he accepted, someone might have gotten hurt - or killed. But then he had an idea.
"He accepted the Arrogant Lout's challenge, and seeing as he was the one who was challenged, was allowed to choose the weapon - he chose cavalier swords, which were very large broadswords. He also imposed a few conditions. The duel would be held in Missouri, where such contests were still legal. The strangest condition, however, was that the duel would occur in a sandy pit with a plank a foot wide placed in the center, which both combatants would be unable to cross."
Then, to everyone's shock, Hank drew his own sword from its sheath. "When the two met, before the duel started, he held up his weapon and swung it overhead." Then Hank did exactly that, swinging it in a full circle. The Exiled Princess covered her head and Dorisan nearly fell out of his chair from the shock. Hank slowly returned the sword to the sheath. "In doing so, the Arrogant Lout realized why the Person of Some Importance had imposed his strange condition. Given that and his size, he had about a six-inch greater reach than the Arrogant Lout. In such a contest, he'd be untouchable.
"The Arrogant Lout came to his senses and called the duel off."
There was no reaction for a minute or so. Finally, the Frugal Quartermaster said, "Of course, I suppose everyone thought this… Person of Some Importance was pretty clever."
"Well yes, I would say a lot of folks thought Abraham Lincoln was clever."
For a long time afterwards, he would regret that the members of the Chisel were so fond of masks, their expressions would have been priceless. But Hank wasn't done.
"Years later, during the Civil War, the same Arrogant Lout - or rather, Brigadier General James Shields - was wounded at the Battle of Kernstown, where his forces defeated those under the command of the Confederacy's Stonewall Jackson. He was granted promotion to Major General by President Lincoln himself, and while this was blocked by the mostly-Republican Congress, it seemed the bad blood between the two had been forgotten and lost."
"Indeed, that was novel," said the Foreman, "but as I said, I doubt Zhent could so easily be convinced to back off."
"He is not the one who must 'back off'," said Francis. "I'd like to make a suggestion here; it may not be the most dignified sway to resolve the crisis, but it may be much safer. Because the Lord Governor proclaimed the Old Law of Peers void, the formal challenge - which started this whole mess - is no longer legally binding, but it still exists as an informal challenge. If the challenge were to be publicly withdrawn with an apology, Zhent might be convinced to back down."
After another long silence, the man in the wolf mask said, "The mainlander has a point there." It came as something of a surprise, as he hadn't spoken before.
Then Maxie spoke up. "Indeed, while Zhent can be arrogant and stubborn, I doubt he'd be the vengeful type."
"Very well," said the Foreman, "the Brave Crusader will have to publicly renounce his challenge, so that at very least, Zhent will forestall his plans."
"Agreed," said Dorisan, looking deflated. "Unfortunately, in order for that to be done, we must first address an additional problem."
"Yes…" said the man in the wolf mask. "We have no idea where he is. Last we heard from him was four months ago, when he went to deliver the formal challenge to Zhent. Obviously, they got it, but there hasn't been a word from him since."
"We don't even know if he's still alive," said the Town Crier.
"He isn't dead," said the Frugal Quartermaster. "I have… contacts who would tell me if he had been killed."
"Oh brother, here we go with the druidic mumbo-jumbo," said Dorisan with a sigh.
"Excuse me?"
"If these contacts of yours are that dependable, they should be able to tell us where he is!"
"I don't see you doing any better, sorcerer!"
"SILENCE!" The Foreman slammed the gavel upon the anvil, and the two angry council members backed down. "I realize the two of you have 'issues' to resolve, but this is not the time nor the place. The Brave Crusader is missing, we have no idea where he is, and possibly even worse, no idea whether
Nichole cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention to her.
"I…" she started. "I… I believe that I may have an answer to that question."
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Maddie was glad the Chisel had put them up for the night. While she would never criticize Jenya, staying at the monastery wasn't very comfortable. The hostel they were staying in now wasn't exactly a four-star hotel, but at least the rooms were spacious with soft beds.
As she had planned, Nichole presented the two steles to the leaders of the Chisel; while most of the information they had gotten as a result was confirmation of what they had assumed, but they had access to information that had effectively put the pieces together. They knew where and what the "headless demon" was, and it only took about ten minutes of research to find information on "Vaprak's Voice".
Unfortunately, this caused them to reach the conclusion they all had been dreading - that for some reason, Gregory had decided to brave the Demonskarr Chasm. None of them had any idea why. Well, Maxie could think of one reason someone might, though he also said he thought hanging yourself would be less painful.
While the Foreman had asked for volunteers, that was merely a formality - the task of actually going there would fall on the "mainlanders". At very least, they said they would provide any gear and equipment they needed that they could provide - including funeral services and drafting of wills. The worst part is, they sounded dead serious about that.
The plan was as follows, they would leave tomorrow morning, as they had no idea exactly when Zhent would make his formal "request" to the mayor of Redgorge. They would follow the presumed path Gregory had taken by following the map on the stele (aided by a better map that the Chisel had provided) traversing by boat to the "headless demon" and then on foot to Vaprak's Voice, until they either found Gregory (if alive) or reached the Demonskarr itself.
If it came to that… They hoped to find something that would point them in the next direction.
Whatever the case, leaving town would be the "point of no return" here, as all the Chisel members had agreed that conceding to Zhent's demands was off the table, and that they intended to put the city on lockdown at the first sign of trouble and fight to the bitter end if he breached the walls. Maddie had come to realize a rather unpleasant truth about Cauldron as a whole - while Dorisan and the Chisel (probably) had better intentions than the folks who ruled the main city, they were every bit as egotistical and stubborn with the same sense of entitlement.
As she lay on her bed, looking at the ceiling, she was glad she could at least get a few hours' sleep until…
"Rough day, Ms. Fulton?"
Maddie shot up into a sitting position. She certainly remembered that voice.
"You…" she growled towards the pearly white smile in front of her.
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Who is Maddie's visitor? You'll see in the next chapter! Where a duel will occur that I have been waiting to write for a long time.
And should I not update in the next two weeks, have a happy holiday everyone. Peace out.
Ooh, wait, I almost forgot the surprise. The return of…
Shadowchaser Files
Artifacts: The Parted Veil's Collected Archives of Evil
Hello everyone, Wells here. For those of you who had the sense not to read "Conspiracy", I have been a member of the Shadowchasers for 40 of my 67 years, and a friend and acquaintance of the author of this File for even longer – his people tend to live a lot longer than the typical human. I will say right here and now, I did not want to post this File here.
Unfortunately, he insisted, and seeing as I owe him about a dozen favors, my opinion here meant little, least of all to him. The man is stubborn; if I didn't know better, I'd say he has dwarven blood.
So, in protest, I will turn it over to him. I should also add, I had to edit his dialogue frequently in order to account for his eccentricities. Regardless of whether there are dwarves in his family or not, he is very much a gnome.
Thank you, Wells! I am Kesto Brighteyes, owner and proprietor of the Parted Veil bookshop, a repository of information that, while hardly the largest of such institutions, is one that I attempt to keep open for everyone and everyone, regardless of race, color, creed, or beliefs. I am a member of the Athar, and now that I've revealed that unpleasant bit of information, I am grateful for all who have taken time to read my humble little tract. Given the nature of the merchandise I specialize in, word of mouth is often the most practical means of advertising. (Kesto's store can only be perceived by Shadowkind and Aware humans, due to potent illusion magic. For the most part, the "merchandise" are magical tomes, spellbooks, and texts related to the subject, so would not likely be of interest to Mundane humans anyway. Still, should a Mundane somehow find himself here, they are welcome to browse, Kesto has yet to turn away a customer – which is how this whole thing started. – Wells)
If you have been following the broader news regarding Shadowkind, you no doubt know of the recent arrest and incarceration of Pontifex Lucious Grymes, someone with whom I have had… acquaintances with. I first met him a year ago and tried with difficulty to disregard his coarseness and lack of hygiene. After he left my store without making a purchase, I never expected to hear from him again, but was informed a week later of an online criticism of the Parted Veil that he had penned. Here is one excerpt:
"This spiritual whorehouse is a vile sludge-pump of the most heretical and blasphemous drivel imaginable, its owner a merchant of odious propaganda and disinformation."
Well… I must say, I have always regarded bugbears as more… "direct" types. I never pictured them expressing their opinions on internet forums. Regardless, as crude as he was, the man is entitled to his opinion. After all, opinions such as his towards me and the Athar are neither uncommon nor unexpected – I've heard worse. Many of our detractors believe we are a group of crazed doomsday prophets who rant on soapboxes about the evils of all things divine. While there are indeed some unsavory members of our organization who do fit such a description, I assure you that most of us simply try to convince others to realize a truth that has been hidden since the dawn of time, not an easy task.
(I believe I must briefly explain this, as there are a few other things that should be known about the Athar. They believe entities that are called "gods" by mortals are, in fact, frauds. No, they are not agnostics nor atheists, and do not strive for abolishment of organized religion. They do acknowledge the existence of higher powers but believe that power alone – even godlike powers – doesn't make one deserving of worship and reverence. They also believe that reliance and dependency on such beings keeps mortals from reaching their true potential. A controversial point of view to say the least.
As for Grymes, he is – or was – the leader of a cell devoted to Bhaal, who is, shall we say, not the most popular Shadowkind deity. I am not at liberty to discuss the nature of the charges against him, but suffice to say, they are serious. - Wells)
Well, little was heard from him until about a week before he was arrested, at which time he wrote an additional post, claiming, that I was a "lying fraud" whose "quaint bookstore hides a dark cache of dangerous and forbidden magic, a practical Archives of Evil."
I couldn't quite stay silent about such an accusation, so I intend to set the record straight now.
He is correct.
I prefer the term, "Repository of Interdicted and Prohibited Works", but I suppose "Archives of Evil" does have a nice ring to it.
You may be asking of course, why I am sitting on a collection of forbidden knowledge that in some places would get one imprisoned, hanged, or worse, how I got them, and why I am making what amounts to a confession right here.
To answer the last question first, I've learned that the best way to deal with a blackmailer is to bring whatever scandalous information he has learned into the open; a secret can hold much sway over the one who keeps it, but once that secret is known, it loses its power.
The reason how I came across this collection is the simplest. As any book dealer can attest, there are times in this line of work where one comes across information that common sense dictates, he never shares, much less sells. Innuendo disguised as fact, unconfirmed rumors, and outright slander – promoting it violates something I believe humans call the fourth estate. When the information one sells is magic, the policies remain, as the consequences of violating it are much worse.
As for why I choose to store them, (rather than, say, burning them), I could give the obvious answer of keeping them for naught except serious academic research, but the answer is more complicated. You may have heard how some Mundanes say "a weapon is only truly evil when wielded by evil intent", and while Awares know better, the fact remains that evil powers can be used for good if the user is careful with them. As a scholar, I hesitate to destroy any written knowledge, no matter how dark or ill-conceived the intent might be. Many of the regimes behind the publication of these books, the outlawing of them, or both, are indeed the type who burn written word that they deem a threat, and I do not believe I must take it further than that. It is also likely that many of these books are not unique, and as they are very dangerous in the wrong hands, I feel a need to aid in those who seek to find and confiscate them.
Naturally, I do not intend to give more than a few brief summaries of the material contained within this… Archive of Evil. Hopefully, simply giving such brief descriptions might dissuade anyone from researching further.
(As I said before, I implored Kesto to reconsider, as he could well be stirring up a hornets' nest. The possibility that this exposition could have the opposite effect and encourage unsavory types to seek these volumes was a concern.
Consider this a warning, these books are ILLEGAL. The Shadowchasers themselves will arrest you for owning them unless, as Kesto says, the purpose is for serious research, and a permit (which Kesto has) is required for such. Other jurisdictions do not permit such exceptions. I would not recommend bothering Kesto either, as despite his jovial and exuberant personality, he is an incredibly powerful wizard who is well-prepared to deal with any thieves.
But should you actually manage to steal any of the books he lists here… It's your funeral.)
Cooking With Granny
Author: Mademoiselle Ju'li Yachilde
Language: German
This book seems pleasant on the surface, the narrative told from the point of view of a young girl who views her grandmother - who represents the author, I believe - as a kindly old lady. Roughly 70% of the actual recipes seem conventional, though not exactly concerned with nutrition or health; they often call for ingredients like clotted cream, cooking lard, and fatty meats. However, if one disregards the narratives, the remaining 30% of the recipes make it clear that the chef is, in fact, a hag, going into detail of how to prepare the flesh and bones of humans and other sapient beings. (In Ju'li's defense, she specifically says she does not condone using children, though that isn't very reassuring.) The book has a forward written by a food critic named Mara'thla Stu'rt (a frost giant, I believe) who not only praises Yachilde's book, but a restaurant she owns, the name and location of which I will not reveal here.
Anatomy of the Arrogant Apes
Author: Original Unknown, Translated by Dr. Gregory Galanus
Language: Undercommon, roughly translated.
"Arrogant Apes" is what the author refers to humans as; I do not know what sort of Shadowkind this author is, but I assume an illithid, given the dialogue. The book is a biological and very racist work told through the eyes of the author, who makes no attempt to hide disgust felt towards not only humans, but all life that dwells on the surface of the world. Much of the work is op-notes detailing vivisection processes, the orchestrator referring to the subject with dehumanizing terms. The book's translator seems to be an aspiring doctor (at the time) who held high regard for the author, adding many of his own lecture notes to the work while also defending the author's profane hostility. He continually reminds of the importance of "respecting cultural differences" and advising the reader not to judge, claiming he would have desired to meet the author in person. I can only conclude Dr. Galanus had some sort of… fetish of sorts involving being vivisected. I can also conclude he was a lunatic.
The Material World
Author: Archdeacon Taylor Reynalds
Language: Italian
This one was, to say the least, confusing. The author (who I have never found any information on) claims in the book to lead a sect who worships an entity devoted to the abolition of all forms of magic. (I should note, that while the Athar have occasionally debated the possibility that such a being might exist, no evidence of any has ever been found. How would it even be possible?) Reynalds claims to be a wizard specializing in Abjuration magic (another odd contradiction), the tome starting by explaining in excruciating detail the mechanism behind spells like dispel magic and anti-magic field. It then presents theories regarding rituals and incantations that might strip magical beings of their power or create dead magic zones. This all culminates in something called the Disjunctive Cataclysm, which will usher in the eponymous Material Age, where all magic is banished from the world (possibly all of reality) forever. The author is aware of the likely results of such an event and claims he would enjoy the hypothetical consequences.
The Three Stairs
Author: Unknown
Language: English (American dialect)
First off, I will admit it was no accident that this cursed book wound up in the hands of the Athar, as it was confiscated from a previous owner for reasons that will become obvious. The book is clearly magical, and has four parts, a prologue and three chapters. A first-time reader can only read the prologue and first chapter, the rest being blank to first-time readers. The prologue promises a surefire way to apotheosis by following three tasks. The first task, outlined in chapter one, requires murdering (not just killing, mind you) at least six people and then using the remains to construct a flesh golem. The second chapter becomes readable to anyone who completes the first task; in theory, the second chapter would reveal the second task, with completion of that task revealing the third. In theory, that is. Only a handful of would-be users have indeed completed the first task, and all of them were stopped before they could complete the second, all of them dying before they could disclose the nature of the second task to anyone. As yet, no magic I am capable of is able to reveal the writing in the second and third chapters without completing the first task, which naturally, I have no intention of doing. While studying this book, I often wonder if there even is a third task, or whether this book was a sick joke created by some dark fiend to trick mortals into committing atrocities.
The Hedge Witch's Pestle: Being a Treatise on the Peculiar Mischiefs of Lady Beatrix Von Bellows
Author: Hephzibah E. Nivwin
Language: Dutch
This was given to me by a member of the Faithful of Eilistraee, a renegade dark elf goddess whose clergy is nearly exclusively female. How she obtained it, she would not say, and I do believe most dark elves loyal to Lolth have placed a bounty on the author, whose whereabouts are not known. An annotated spellbook, it was compiled by an educated lady wizard, cataloging the malevolent magics of an infamous hedge witch. Early entries include counterfeit love potions, minor curses, and surprisingly effective remedies for common female ailments, such as menstrual pain later entries include spells that will turn a man inside out or transform all his blood into acid. The spells and formula within seem only useable by a female wizard, and I believe many of them require the caster to sacrifice a bit of her sanity.
Kuroth's Guide to the Canny Cross Trader
Author: Original: Kuroth (pseudonym) Annotated Edition: Unknown
Language: Dwarven
The method in which this book (or rather books, given how the annotated version came about, more on that in a minute) was written would make an interesting story in itself and would almost be funny if not for the number of deaths it has caused. "Kuroth", of course, is a familiar name to anyone who has heard of the reality warping artifact Kuroth's quill; according to legend, he was the greatest thief who has ever lived. Obviously, a book written by Kuroth himself about the methods to his success would be tempting to any thief, spy, saboteur, or terrorist. Which is what the true author – a scribe in the employ of King Rufus Blackshield.
Blackshield was a duergar who headed the clan of the same name from 1652 to 1974 and was known to be a paranoid yet clever ruler and believed (rightfully) that there was a conspiracy against him rooted in the academic community. The book was a ruse (the true authors being a group of his trusted advisors) meant as bait in a cunning plan to root the conspirators out.
The book seems at first to be a full of what seems to be legitimate instructions for a thief, assassin, or similar profession, but not only did Blackshield order his enforcers to arrest anyone found with a copy, those attempting to use the information contained were in more danger of killing themselves than anyone else. The ciphers had already been cracked with the procedures purposely flawed to make anyone following them almost certain to make a mistake in the process – for example, directions for making poisons and explosives included the wrong rations, critical safety precautions omitted or changed, and so on.
But this all went bad when a veteran saboteur got ahold of a copy and decided to turn the tables on Blackshield, putting a red pen to it and correcting those mistakes, releasing it via an underground publisher as the Annotated (or Redline) edition. Almost overnight, this annotation became Blackshield's (or for that matter, any ruler's) worst nightmare. Eventually, one attempt on his life was successful.
The reign of his heir lasted only five years – Rufus II lacked his father's competence and common sense, and his methods of solving this problem (brutally torturing anyone found with a copy of the Redline Edition in order to find the editor's identity) made him far less popular. Nonetheless, several assassinations and insurrections since then were no doubt inspired by this work.
The Most Dangerous Game
Author: Tobias Gnoas
Language: English
It is not without regret that I must end this article here, as this is the only tome on the list that has confirmed to have been written by a fellow member of the Athar. I believe this is the book that brought Grymes to the Parted Veil to begin with, though how he found out about it I have no clue. While I do agree with the general intent of the author, I cannot condone his methods. You know what they say, the Road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
The book is (probably) not magical and the first few chapters seem to be a manual of instruction for a novice exterminator, pest control methods regarding rats, insects and the like. It then shifts to animal control, and by chapter three, recreational hunting of Mundane game animals. Five chapters in, it starts detailing methods for more exotic games, including Shadowkind wildlife, each chapter detailing progressively more dangerous quarry. A full ten chapters in is where the instruction becomes legally dubious, the described methods befitting more a poacher than a hunter, with many parts devoted to the hunting of rare (as in, endangered) beasts and sidebars detailing how to avoid being caught.
The final chapter shows the true reason this book is on this list, as it details possible ways to nullify the Divine Discorporation of certain entities.
I will give a brief explanation of this here, legends and myths regarding the beings who claim to be "gods" often emphasize that they are immortal and cannot be killed. This is a lie, as it can and has happened in the past. Not that this is easy of course. Should such beings be challenged by someone capable of killing them (most likely a stronger "god") the victim can save himself via Divine Discorporation a subconscious ability that all of them share. Doing so destroys the victim's body, causing them to assume a weakened spiritual form, but this is only temporary, and the victim recovers within a few months. Thus, the only way a "deity" can truly die is if this ability is somehow nullified. This in itself isn't easy, and the methods of doing so are different for each.
Thus, the final chapter of this tome lists several "gods" and presumed methods of denying them their route of escape. It seems Gnoas felt that anyone bold enough to attempt to slay a deity had best start small and work their way up, though I will say that his… descriptions in the last chapter showed a great deal of dehumanizing terms when referring to the proposed targets, as though they were simply… prey.
For this reason, all major religious groups who know of this book's existence have directed their members to destroy this book should they ever find it and punish whoever has it. This is one policy of theirs I will begrudgingly support. I will not state here just who the intended targets in the book are, nor will I go into detail on what the detailed methods are. If anything, this book represents how any well-intentioned goal can become too extreme.
Story Ideas: Obviously, Kesto and the Parted Veil bookstore is already a wealth of information – as he says, anyone and everyone is welcome, so long as they don't try to rob him – or set the place on fire. (A night hag famously tried to do so once.) The Archives of Evil gives an extra twist on it, as Kesto's boldness will likely, as Wells fears, likely bring about far more trouble than they prevent.
The material in the Archive isn't as potent as, say, the Necronomicon (Jalal himself has a special vault for those), and the scope of the danger they can cause isn't as far reaching. As such, they are the perfect hooks for the scheme enacted by a rookie villain who thinks he can master the information contained within. Clearly, the Archive challenges the motto of the Shadowchasers ("Ignorance is not bliss, but Knowledge is not power.") in a much different way.
There is also one thing Kesto does not mention, all these books are published works, which begs the question of just who is behind the distribution of one or more of them. Books like this rarely have the distribution range of Random House, but often have motives other than profit…
Oh, and if anyone wants to see more of the Parted Veil's Archives of Evil, or have any ideas for new ones, drop me a line in the PM box, I'd love to hear them.