The Chronicles of Bael

The Chronicles of Bael Part 4

Wildday, Death Week, Storm Season, 1599

For three days my Master has had me search the Temple's library for a scroll that he believes was written several decades ago by a Wild Sage by the name of Tukar Thal. In every library in every Temple to Lhankor Mhy there are a dozen or more overlapping systems for categorizing and storing texts. Each newly promoted librarian will impose his system over the last librarian's, but I have never found one Temple where any have fully succeeded. And even if they did, every initiate and Priest seems to find a way to hide their favorite texts or organize their own works where they will. The result, in every library I have studied, is disorder and endless frustration.

Nevertheless, this morning I found the scroll. I was so surprised and delighted I took it to my Master without reading it. It is not that I lack interest in my Master's work, but the day was young and I had hoped to be released from my duties so that I could return to my sword play. My Master's work is often fascinating; his "Bestiary of Chaos" is considered the exemplary volume on the subject, and few could put down his seminal work "Ralzakark and the Who's Who of Broo" without finishing it. My master has now classified forty-seven different forms of Chaos feature in those so afflicted and more than a dozen manners in which they can be acquired, ranging from acquisition at birth, the Rune spell of the priests of Primal Chaos and all associated Chaos cults, a substance known as Chaos Goo, corrupted power crystals, and most disturbingly from merely being in close proximity to certain cursed talismans of Chaos.

Frankly, I am less concerned with how these Chaos features are caused than the features themselves. A Chaos feature can provide a chaotic opponent with an enormous advantage in battle. Some of these features are immediately apparent, such as the metallic scales on a Broo that I once fought near Shadowfall Mountain who required an enormous blow to fell. Some Chaos features are entirely hidden such as those that provide great speed, size or power, but are nonetheless dangerous. The features I hate the most are the ones that catch you by surprise, such as the Scorpion man who spat acid, almost melting the sword arm off an unfortunate Orlanthi who accompanied my Master and I to the Chaos Woods west of Stormwalk Mountain. But the worst was an Ogre who was part of a band of vicious flesh eaters who ambushed us outside the Stinking Forest. When this Ogre had his skull split apart by one of the Humakti who was part of our expedition he exploded killing seven of our party and the remaining Ogres. Part of the creature's femur impaled my thigh. I must give blessing to my father for his insistence on my being taught a powerful healing spell as a price for releasing me to my uncle as his apprentice. Without this spell I may have walked with a limp for the rest of my days.

Judging which chaotic opponent to single out in combat can be an art. Sometimes those that appear harmless are very powerful because they hide a powerful chaos feature. Sometimes those that appear invincible are anything but. I laugh when I recall the Broo with the large ruby embedded between his great horns that we encountered outside the town of Oxhead, every Storm Bull in our band made a rush to slay the creature, drawn to the riches the gem might bring them. In so doing, each forgot his dozen companions and our battle order fell to pieces.

I have made it a rule to hang back when fighting Broo unless we have a Chalana Arroy healer in our party, for these creatures carry all manner of diseases upon which a simple healing spell will have no effect. Truly it is best to remain apart from any who have fought Broo until they have bathed thoroughly, and remained healthy for at least two days. Fire is the best cure for anything touched by a Broo. The head of the Broo who possessed the ruby between his horns sat in our camp fire for most of the night before the Storm bulls extracted the gem.

But I digress. So distracted by the scroll was my Master that he quickly forgot me. I returned to my room, donned my armor under my robes and retrieved my sword, hanging it on my back and under my robes. With my hood over my head the long handle and pommel of my father's sword cannot be seen. In this way I was able to sneak through the cloisters of the Temple unnoticed past Kaldomar and made my way to the Storm Bull Temple.

Much to my delight Gorath was free to train me. I spent an hour training with my sword before my arms and shoulders grew exhausted and heavy from the great weight of my weapon; I was much pleased with my work for I had received only a few bruises from Gorath, thanks in some part to the fine chain mail my Master had provided to me.

Then Gorath had me fight with some of the Storm Bull initiates. The art of great sword work lies in making effective use of the length and weight of the weapon. This requires strength, endurance and dexterity in great measure. One must be aggressive, always on the attack, remorselessly depriving one's opponent of a chance to strike from within your guard. After I had bested three opponents, Gorath had me fight two opponents at once. By the end of my work I was bruised and thoroughly exhausted. In the morning I will feel today's labors in every muscle, but my mind was clear and my soul was at peace.

As one of the lay members of the temple rubbed the soreness from my muscles, a number of the Storm Bulls asked me for my opinion of some of the treasures they had acquired plying their trade. In most cases these were worthless baubles and cheap pieces of jewelry, but one of the initiates showed me a dagger with a Silence Matrix upon it. Hardly a weapon for a Storm Bull worshipper but valuable nonetheless, all were happy to receive my service for free. And I am always happy to provide it, for I am proud of my hard-earned skill and keen to earn the trust and friendship of these enemies of Chaos.

Other than when we spar or when they have need of some of my less martial skills, the laity and initiates of Storm Bull shun me, as is the requirement of their God. Yet in many ways I more closely meet the requirements of their God. I have fought Chaos on more occasions than I wish to recall. The younger Storm Bulls betray a naivety with all their talk of killing Chaos creatures. Most of the lay members of the temple have never seen a creature of Chaos, nor felt the fear and loathing and the nightmares that follow. And those who have met Chaos were quick to cast a Fanaticism spell on themselves and thereby escaped from reality into the blind rage that the spell brings.

As I was leaving the Storm Bull temple, Gorath enquired after my Master and more particularly if his latest studies had yielded any points of interest. His intent, unspoken, was as clear as the light of Yelm. Gorath was looking for a likely quest to destroy Chaos. Who better to enquire after than the preeminent authority on the subject. My Master has always ensured that he is accompanied on his expeditions by a large group of warriors from some fanatical Chaos hating warrior cult. It always amazes me how readily these cults will provide warriors at my Master's slightest suggestion. He has emptied many a Humakti, Orlanth and Storm Bull temple of their best and bravest in pursuit of his studies.

I left Gorath having reassured him that I would send his respects to my Master and make enquiries on his behalf. Truth be told, if my Master were to lead me once more into some Chaos nest, I would be heartened to have Gorath and his acolytes at my back.