Chapter VII: The Guk Campaign
There is no doubt the frogloks consider themselves a peaceful and righteous race; as walking embodiments of the values of their creator, Mithaniel Marr. And though they might otherwise have much in common with the self-proclaimed 'good' races of Norrath, who also have their own ostentatious 'morals', the frogloks are far too fanatical to accept heathen outsiders with hospitality. Those races the frogloks view as wicked are slain outright in arbitrary moral judgment. Oftentimes, when Kuriak dragged a froglok into the shadows and pulled one of its arms off, or gnawed contently on one of its legs, it would quickly abandon its whimpered prayers and scream and croak for mercy. When it finally died, its last thoughts had nothing to do with courage, justice, or dedication to Mithaniel Marr. There was only terror, a pain-soaked and primal fear that lingered in its amphibian eyes long after Kuriak scooped them out, inserted a toothpick, and enjoyed a froglok-blood martini.
Kuriak interpreted this as signifying, above all, that fear was the ultimate force in the universe-- and that the metaphysical essence of terror, Cazic Thule, blessed his cause.
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Kuriak knew this was going to be a long deployment, and it might be some time before he returned to Cabilis. He carried enough beetle bakes, water, bandages, and bone chips to last for weeks should he be unable to resupply in Antonica, as well as 125 platinum to cover travel expenses and unforeseen costs.
He left the gates of Cabilis once more and made his way through Warsliks Woods to the ancient Iksar shipyards of the Overthere, where he was able to pay a wizard to take him to Nektulos.
From there, he made his way across the great deserts and plains of eastern Antonica, finally arriving in Innothule swamp after arduous travel. With his reptilian orifices itchy and containing a considerable quantity of sand, he was actually happy to see a damp swamp and he quickly immersed himself in the warm, muddy water.
The entrance to Guk was guarded by nothing more than froglok young and inexperienced pawns. However, Kuriak quickly found that the deeper areas were guarded by groups of far more powerful frogloks, aided by shamans. This was more than Kuriak could handle himself, so he sought an alternate way in. He swam down a lightly guarded tunnel and found a writhing nest of black spiders. He began to fight his way through them with much difficulty. While resting and suffering the effects of their poison, a powerful pair of elves approached from the tunnel behind him, a Teir`Dal and Feir`Dal working in concert.
The dark elf bathed Kuriak in a swirling torrent of flame that coursed around him, but strangely did not burn, and the wood elf gave Kuriak's scales the hardness of steel.
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Having demonstrated the strength of their magic, they continued on their way. Just before the dark elf disappeared down the tunnel, however, she turned to Kuriak and spoke to him.
Morloth: Archduke Xog is a foolish and small minded lordling. He does not see your true potential.
Kuriak: Xog has given me everything.
The dark elf shook her head with contempt.
Morloth: He seeks only to hold on to his meager gains in the ruins of the Iksar empire. There is a world to conquer and he does not see it. The true path of conquest lies with Hate... with Innoruuk.
Kuriak: I serve Cabilis above all.
Morloth: It is this inward focus that led to the ruin of your once great civilization. You may gain entrance to the halls of Neriak by giving red wine to a drunken merchant. From there you will see how a true empire is created... by manipulation of others. Hate be with you young shadow knight.
When she finished speaking the dark elf abruptly continued toward the depths of Guk, leaving a trail of flames and the smoldering remnants of spiders behind her. Kuriak had no intention of betraying Arch Duke Xog, and his connection to Cazic Thule had saved his life in the Swamp of No Hope. However, Morloth had displayed a great deal of power and an unsettling knowledge of Iksar politics. When his mission was over he would consider this further.
Unable to penetrate Guk's defenses by himself, Kuriak returned to the entrance where he was able to recruit several agents who were interested in plundering Guk's wealth. Together, they began to engage the frogloks' more formidable defenses and slowly advanced through the narrow halls. Kuriak sought not only to damage Guk itself, but also to search for any means possible to gather useful intelligence, particularly regarding Guk's cooperation with Sebilis and the frogloks of Kunark.
One of Kuriak's colleagues told him of the existence of a froglok enchanter known as The Scryer. He told of how the Scryer harnessed incomprehensible mental energy to project his consciousness and communicate with others over long distances-- perhaps even to Kunark. Encouraged by the prospect of having a nice conversation with the Scryer, the party drove onward.
Eventually they entered an expansive hall with a gilded spa and two massive founts of flowing water. In the back of the room was an altar, and upon the altar stood a froglok engrossed in a deep trance. As Kuriak moved closer, his head began to ache. His senses dulled. All the sounds around him became muffled and distant; his sight blurred and filled with coronas. He looked to his group mates, who were wincing and stumbling. With great difficulty, Kuriak attempted to afflict the meditating froglok with a disease. The spell dissipated almost immediately, and the froglok was unaffected. Suddenly, the dull ache in his brain intensified into a sharp, nearly unbearable pain. A voice spoke in his mind.
Dharmoni. Zareph. Kuriak. Keroro. Dororo. I look in your minds and see naught but wickedness and greed. Heretics. Savages. Invaders. Little of Kuriak's vision remained discernable, but it was enough to see the froglok suddenly standing before him, eyes closed, a battle-axe in hand. The voice spoke again, clearer now, louder. Angry.
Kuriak of Cabilis, Crusader of Greenmist. You will be interrogated.. The froglok opened its eyes.
Kuriak began to convulse as his mind crumbled. His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the ground, shaking and hissing uncontrollably. Then, in an instant, the pain dissipated and his senses returned, unaltered. He felt a strange numbness and tingling throughout his body. He turned toward his ally, the rogue Dororo. In the corner of his vision, he saw the Scryer swinging his axe frantically at his party. He didn't care. Kuriak casually walked toward Deroro, who was clearly still suffering mental bombardment. He placed his left hand on Dororo's shoulder, and with his other hand drove his sword through the rogue.
The dark elf collapsed with a look of horror on his face. Kuriak strolled around the room, swinging his sword at his groupmates. Keroro, a fellow Iksar and disciple of Grandmaster Glox, attempted to deliver a deadly strike upon the Scryer, who was relentlessly battering the cleric. Kuriak leaped in front of the blow, blocking it with his shield. He then swung with all his might at the monk's neck, but Keroro ducked out of the way. Kuriak pursued the monk, slashing with his sword in an attempt to land a decisive blow. The Iksar Swifttail had spent long periods of his life entranced in deep, meditative introspection as do all of Glox's disciples. His disciplined mind was thus hardened against the Scryer's energies, and better able to resist the assault on his sanity. Though he did feel some obscure oddness and fuzziness, the Iksar retained surprising mental clarity. He easily dodged Kuriak's sluggish and uncoordinated attacks, but found it hard to save the rest of the group.
The Scryer continued assailing the cleric, who was out of mana and critically wounded. He swung his axe and struck the dwarf's shield, sending him sprawling, limp and barely alive, into the corner. The Scryer turned to refocus his assault on the beleaguered Swifttail. To his surprise, the monk moved with coordinated grace and quickness. The Scryer began to focus the strength of his mind into a spell. His webbed hands began to glow red as they became charged with energy, until it was released toward the monk with a thunderous roar. Keroro felt his perception of reality waver as the energy rushed over him, and his strong mind begin to unravel as the spell overcame his mental discipline. The Swifttail knelt to the ground and gripped his head, attempting to resist insanity.
Kuriak calmly walked toward the monk. The Scryer also moved toward the monk, stepping over the dark elf crumpled on the floor, and raised his axe, preparing to cleave the suffering Iksar. Kuriak placed his left hand upon Keroro's shoulder. The froglok then felt a jolt, and then a sharp pain as a long knife entered his back. Kuriak also shuddered and froze. The rogue, severely wounded, had barely managed to stand and deliver the blow. With all his strength, he pushed on the weapon and drove it deep into the froglok.
In an instant, Kuriak collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The froglok began to thrash at the rogue, who dove out of the way. Keroro seized an opportunity to finish the froglok. The Iksar grabbed the Scryer around the neck from behind, and sent his foot driving into the back of the froglok's knee. He turned his body with the falling froglok and drove his weight toward the ground, sending the froglok falling onto his back. With remarkable speed and force, the monk then brought his staff whistling down through the air, where it landed upon the froglok's forehead and shattered its sturdy skull.
There was a sharp crack as the field of immense psychic energy dissipated. The party's headaches began to fade, and their senses returned.
Several moments later, Kuriak stumbled to his feet in a daze and stood over the fallen enchanter.
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He remembered only entering the Scryer's room, and a splitting headache, but had no recollection of the brawl. Confused, he began to recognize thoughts in his head that were not his own.
Memories, knowledge, and foreign emotions raged in his thoughts. He spoke with his group, and apparently the Scryer had taken control of Kuriak's mind during the battle and used him as a weapon, as a puppet. Kuriak was furious, and disappointed. They had nearly been killed and the Scryer had given them no useful information. The group retreated from Guk to tend to their wounds, and went their separate ways.
As Kuriak walked through the swamp near Guk, still feeling fairly lightheaded and confused, he spotted a froglok fishing in the swamp. Several strange words entered his mind. After a moment he recognized the words as froglok. He stood for a moment and watched the froglok cast his lure into the swamp. He kept thinking of strange words and phrases. One word stood out to him; he heard it in his mind repeatedly:
Tolapumj
.