Boring is Something I Dream Of...

Better things to do

The pilgrimage was always a long one, but so late in the year made it even tougher. The snow made things difficult, especially with the camel.

But it had to be done. Every year, one person's name was drawn from the lottery to go and ensure that Graztel the Lord of Pain was still dead.

Across the ocean of desert, with warm days and freezing nights. Across the Forest of Haze that tries to lure you off the path with inviting whispers to an indulgent but swift death. Then, finally, up the mountains of snow and ice that never melt, and across the bridge to stand at its feet.

The Lord of Pain was always there. Bare bones after 3 centuries. A myriad of animals and critters nested in the skeleton for goodness sake. There was no reason to ever suspect he was going to somehow reanimate or live again.
As you trudge the path around the last mountain curve, you spot the colossal skeleton. Still dead and pinned to the side of a half destroyed mountain with the great Sword of Slaying. A party of adventurers had dealt with him after a long reign of terror and death. The people were so grateful it caused immense celebrations for weeks. Or so the stories tell. The ancestors had feasted and drank for a fortnight after Gratzel had been slain, plying the adventurers with more gifts and food than they could handle.

The Pilgrimage to his corpse had been enacted that same year, which meant everyone who was of age was required to go when their name was pulled. Not doing so would get you banishment from the village for a full year, and with the dangers of the unprotected wild around, it's best just to go without fuss. Still, 300 years is a long time to check and ensure a rotten bone corpse is actually dead. Maybe when you return home you can convince the council to abolish this needless chore. There are far better things to deal with.

Really the Pilgrimage is simple in principle, names of those who have yet to go are written down and one is drawn at the beginning of the year. That person packs up and goes to the corpse, camping near it on the bridge for 3 days. As long as it is still dead, you'll survive and come home.

This year your name was drawn. You were told it had to be done by years end, so with only 2 months left you were forced to go.

You took a sturdy yet ornery camel and went on your way, nearly dying after a mistep in the bog in the forest. Never trust a patch of heather in the Forest of Haze. Thankfully health potions heal those things, but not an experience you would want to ever repeat.

Finally after a fortnight of travel you arrived. The corpse looked as every other person describes it. Dead, bony and gross. Although thankfully there is no smell. Just imagine what the first few years of pilgrimage was like...

You head across the stone bridge to the small permanent camp near the things pelvis. The birds that live in the corpse scatter at your presence. You wonder why this is necessary anymore, it's been three centuries! Why not just harvest it's bones for material and forget it? Demon bone is just as strong as Dragon, and is less stubborn when enchanting it. Maybe if you mention the sheer amount of material to the blacksmith... Well maybe he will hire you to help him dismantle it and create hundreds of weapons. The village could become a full city!

Even with your unwillingness for the job, you do your duty and wait 3 days. First light of morning of the fourth day you pack the camel to set out. If only things had stayed normal...

When did I become stupid?

You hear a low sharp grinding sound, like the blacksmith trying to hone an edge on a damaged weapon. You peer around and see nothing in the valley or surrounding area. A sense of dread settles over you, and with reluctance you slowly begin to look upwards to the great sword...

Collectively the mass of birds scream in fright and take off, peppering the sky and causing the sun to be blocked. The grinding sound becomes slowly louder as you watch the sword slowly... Fall... From the mountain side.

It shatters on impact with the valley below, into at least fifty pieces, terror overwhelms you as you watch and realize what is happening. Like being stuck in an entangle spell, you can do naught but watch as events unfold.
The corpse is slowly reforming and knitting back together. The larger animals begin to evacuate quickly, their ancestral home regaining things like organs and tissues. You hope they all get out in time, nothing would want to be stuck in there.

Thinking quickly, you decide there is only one action you can take. You grab any empty bags you have, which turns out to be several large grain sack that you forgot to take off the camel, and rush the camel across the bridge. It's only too happy to move this time, as you both feel the sinister and cruel aura the demon lord exudes. Making your way across you hussle him into a small crack in the mountain opposite, tying him to an outcroping. You pray to the gods and goddesses he can't be seen and is smart enough not to move or try to run. You then do the stupidest thing you've ever done... You turn back towards the Demon Lord of Pain.

Watching for a moment as muscles are rebuilding slowly, you shudder and swallow your horror. Focusing on the great Sword of Slaying, you pick your way quickly down to the valley below. It is steep and covered in scree, but not very far thankfully. You gather up every single piece you can find, surprisingly less than the fifty you thought, filling bags and bags with metal shards. The only piece intact and far too large to carry is the gilded hilt. You'll leave that for the adventurers to find and bring back... If you don't hurry, you'll never make it home to warn anybody.

10 bags and about forty pieces later, you finally get everything gathered and up to the camel, hoping he can hold the weight. The demon lord now has full legs, 1 arm and part of a face... If he were to turn his head you would be dead faster than a blink...

Untying the camel you make your way down the path and away from the mountain. Just as you get out of sight you hear a great intake of breathe...

"I... Am... REBOOOOOOOORN!!!!!"

The animals of the mountain are already startled, but now are leaving faster than you can count them. Bears and deer, foxes and birds... Nothing like this has ever happened. You hope you can make it back to the village with all the sword pieces... One less step for the adventurers
you need to call...

The trek home

The path down the mountain was worse than going up. Slipping upwards you fell and maybe skid down a few feet. Going down you are likely to tumble for a while and break a few things...
The camel handled the weight of metal surprisingly well, considering the size and amount. He seemed to have no problem walking down the mountain and away from the Lord of Pain. As you trekked down, you stopped a little as possible, wanting to be out of the area as quickly as you could. The mountain seemed to endlessly pour creatures and they were all going away from the mountain. You had to dodge a few things that were too panicked to care about a measly human, but you made it down alright.

The Forest of Haze seemed quieter than it should, like even the fae creatures had been silenced and awaited the Demon Lords next move. After a couple days things got dangerous. You began to see creatures that normally didn't inhabit this area. Creatures and humanoids in dark cloaks and auras that smelt of trouble. One night as you were making dinner you could of sworn you saw an illithid floating past! You doused your fire and didn't sleep one lick that night... Anything with good sense was heading away from the mountain, but it seemed there were creatures hungry for power.

On the far side of the forest was the desert. 1 week travel from the outpost... Except, there was no outpost. Where once a log building with food and warm fire once stood, there was now a pile of cinders. Heart sinking, you find a tree to tie the camel to and head over. It's unlikely you'll find the provisions you need for a week of travel anymore, but hopefully the well is still intact. Food would be nice, but water is not negotiable. You and the camel both need it.

After searching the area thoroughly, looking for the owner and their dogs, you find some luck. In a small root cellar there is untouched food! Enough for a week at the very least. In the cellar are dried meats and fruit, even some cheese. Packing it all up you are about to head up to ground level when you hear it.

A sniffling like dogs, but much much bigger. The cellar door wont provide much protection, as it's not the best shape after the fires. You peek out cautiously... A bear has found his way out of the forest! The camel seems to be unharmed but you really don't want to die by bear. So, instead of sitting there and waiting, you decide to go for the running option... When did you become so stupid? This is not something you would do. You'd hide and wait it out. Not be planning to drop the extra food you hastily grabbed to distract it and run.

As you pop out the bear looks at you. Not like a dumb animal, but as if it were human. You drop the extra food you grabbed and begin to back away slowly towards the camel. All is going well until it speaks.

The Adventurers Itch

Dumbfounded, you ask "say that again?" Just to see if Gratzel has the reach to cause hallucinations all the way out here.

"I said, commoner or adventurer, but your idiot look tells me commoner. One moment"

The bear shuffles its fur and with a minor shimmer you watch as it transforms into a human. Rubbing your eyes you sniff the food. It seems fine, and it doesn't smell like poison. Still unsure you keep your distance as the be-human adjusts it cloaks and furs.

"Now that you are less likely to scream and run, my name is Feral. I am a druid of the Forest of Haze."

Blinking you tell them your name as a reaction, but cover your mouth almost immediately. You don't know if they are telling the truth! They could be one of the fae that steal names!

Looking amused Feral grins, showing some very pointed teeth. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm an adventurer headed for the village across the desert, Gratzel has awoken and I need a group to be able to rid our world of him once again"

You blink rapidly and decide to just go with it. The voice in the back of your head is yelling this is a bad idea, but it's been getting much quieter since the demon Lord awoke. You find your voice and manners, and tell Feral everything that has happened in the last week, starting with Gratzel awakening. After some brief questions which you answer as best you can, Feral seems decided. They offer to get you, the camel, and the Sword of Slaying back to the village so the blacksmith can repair it while Feral looks for some fellow adventurers to assist them. You accept, not thinking of the consequences.

You head for the camel and bring him over, which immediately warms up to Feral more that it ever has to you. Feral digs through their bags and finally brings out a moss green stone the size of a gold piece. They whisper something to it and finally hauls back and throws it into the desert sand. You could of bought meals for 5 years with that stone! Feral has to be insane you decide. On the verge of telling them you've changed your mind, the sand begins to shift and rumble. Where the stone lands, a large emerald green dragon appears! It shuffles its body and the sand sprays off, leaving a cloud of dust in the air. It approaches slowly, the thing is the size of 3 villages put together!

Feral greets it like an old friend, rubbing it's nose and talking to it in strange growls and hisses. Turning to you they gesture and growls several times. The dragon takes a deliberate step and speaks in a booming tone. "Well met, Feral tells me you witnessed the rise of Gratzel. Tell me how did you escape? Are you a rogue?"

You scoff at the idea, and explain that Gratzel was still forming, and you've always been good at going unnoticed, ever since you were a kid. The dragon ponders for a moment then asks "are you able to pick locks? I have a chest in my possession that I would rather not break for it is made of precious wood from a long dead species of tree."

You snicker and admit to being able to get into almost any lock, it's a useful talent although it tends to get you in a mite of trouble if you aren't careful. The dragon, who give the name Drizengal, presents an old chest of black wood to you, while chatting in what you assume to be draconic with Feral. It only takes you a moment to open the lock, and you casually mention that a simple knock spell would of done the job. Feral and Drizengal share a glance, but then get everything prepped to fly across the desert. For the dragon this trip is barely 2 days, as walking is a week minimum.
The camel was none to happy about the dragon, as being prey tends to do, so a sleep spell was cast along with reduction to fit the camel and bags into a saddle bag that Feral attached to the dragon. Curious as to how all that gear fit in a single bag without bursting, Feral began explaining the concept of a Bag of Holding. That conversation sparked other questions as well.

Feral answered every one honestly and with enthusiasm, even the more gruesome things about liches and the undead. Drizengal grinned to themselves, knowing you had the itch of the adventurers now, and hoping you would leave the common life behind. New adventurers were always so much fun, and if you were trained correctly, could become very powerful.

The Village

Landing on the outskirts of the village in the dark was Drizengals idea. Scaring the village into an uproar was not a good idea when you had news of such caliber to share. You and feral walked the camel into town and arrived just before sunrise. The guards greeted you warmly, asking how the trip was. You remained tight lipped, not wanting to panic the entire village before you could get to the council. You said you had news for the council and they needed it immediately. Not one to mess around, the guards took you seriously and ran ahead to wake and assemble the members.

The town hall was small, no more than a house with a large meeting room upstairs and a kitchen for holidays. The whole council was there to meet you and Feral. Introductions were given and recieved. When you got to the part about the news you carried, you suddenly lost your voice. This was literally life changing news... Nothing would be the same for a long time and you were going to be the cause of it... Breathing deep, you gave them a full account of what happened, starting at the very beginning when you arrived on the mountain. You told the council every detail, including that you rode a dragon to town and it was waiting nearby.
Feral confirmed everything as well, declaring that they would gather a party and destroy the monster once and for all.

Your story was met with grave silence, punctuated only by Elder Valian asking to see the pieces of the Sword of Slaying. You presented the pieces and things were put in motion. Being the closest village to the mountain, you were the only ones that could warn the rest of the continent. Eldar Lesyon, a scorcerer, began casting message spells requesting help and guilds to post on their boards and contact adventure parties immediately. You and Feral were instructed to wake the blacksmith and get the sword into a semblance of shape for the hilt to be retrieved.

Feral ran to Drizengal to request their help, as dragon fire was particularly good for fixing enchanted weapons.
You woke Knighton and explained the situation. He first though this a prank on his day off and nearly boxed your ears. You evaded it rather easily and quickly showed him the proof of your claims. As he was opening the forge, Feral and Drizengal appeared, offering their services for the blacksmiths work. Delighted to have the opportunity, Knighton got to work immediately, fitting pieces together along the forge floor.

By now the rest of the town had been woken and told the news. Gratzel has returned. Many people were given the option to leave, Elder Leyson offering to cast a gate spell to allow those wanting to go an opportunity to safely get to the capital, Felrun, without having to travel. Those that were going were to be ready and at the town hall in 4 hours. You debated for a mere moment to go to safely, but decided to stick around and see the history being made.
Very few chose to stay unsurprisingly. Knighton, you, Valian, Leyson, the inn owner Heather, and only 5 guards. The rest left as quickly as they could with what they could take. Some, being talented in magicks, took their entire houses, while others only took the basics and left the rest for Gratzel to do as he wished.

The days were spent preparing and repairing the weapon, we well as Feral engaging you in several "games". You had no clue why they were testing things like your ability to dodge something thrown at the back of your head and how well you could stomach a rotten tomato ( that was a cruel trick you swore to get payback for) but it helped passes the time in an empty town. As the days went by things began to get strange. The sky would shift into strange colours, like red at mid day or bright blue at midnight. The occurences were obviously Gratzel gaining power and trying to open the door to his plane, if that happened his armies would step through and the continent would be overrun in a matter of weeks. You weren't sure what you would do, but you knew you would at least lead the adventure party to the mountain where the hilt was and get it home for Knighton. Your role would never be that simple, but it was a nice dream before the storm... If only your life could be that boring.