Thaddeus (Chapter 18)

Template:Thaddeus nav In the beginning, rock and branch

Were all we had. Then came the Light

And the glory of the hammer's magic.

We built, and carved, and forged

Life and harmony from crude wildness.

To reject the hammer is to renounce

Order, and all the gifts of the Light.

-- The Book of the Hammer, c. 2, v. 1-7

Khalim's eye would have to be kept safe. Not that the minions of darkness could destroy it, or they would have by now; however, it might get lost again. Maybe pickling it in a spare rejuvenation potion would be a good hiding place. When Thaddeus opened his footlocker to get one, a new item was sitting on top, with yet another note:

O sanctified one,

Howdy-doo! The gauntlets are "Frostburns", to help those little guys you're about to run into chill out and relax. You also get more mana; what more could a Hammer-man want? Better boots, I know; if you're a very good boy, I'm sure we can work something out.

-- The Mule

Archangels work in mysterious ways. Providing equipment superior to what would otherwise be available was a good way to help indirectly, but why such an odd courier? Thaddeus would not deny he'd worried too much about his gifts, but Tyrael's choice of servant did not help set his mind at ease. Perhaps that was the point of the odd choice... there was some message in it. When he rested, he'd have to meditate on the Mule. There must be a reason for an exalted being like the archangel Tyrael to use such an unorthodox servant.

As he closed his locker, Thaddeus looked around the dock. At least the people seemed to have accepted his presence. Still... something seemed wrong. On his return trips from the jungle, he could feel a presence here near the pyramid. The pyramid was not to blame, he'd examined it several times. Nor did he feel the unconcealable aura of evil a demon emanates. Nonetheless, the feeling was there and wouldn't go away.

The area near the docks hid one more cavern of spiders. Thaddeus diligently cleared it, but didn't find any more relics of the saint. Venturing deeper into the swamps, he met more of the corrupted Hulks, guarding knots of water-logged Zombies and misty ghosts which shot lightning. The spirits, called Will-o-wisps, are a peculiar form of spectral undead common in swamps and marshes. Some believe Will-o-wisps are created when an evil person dies from a lightning strike, or perhaps when anyone dies alone in a swamp. In happier times, they were only encountered singly, and didn't attack so brazenly. This section of jungle contained so many undead, Thaddeus wondered if some great battle had been fought here. The Zombies didn't even have the rusty remains of armor on, so it seemed unlikely.

Another new encounter in the swamps was the Tentacle Beast. Huge reptiles with long, thin necks and bodies, these poison-spitters were dangerous for livestock even before the land was corrupted. Now, they would attack man or beast, rising from pools and deep waterways to launch globs of sticky venom at anything passing by. Thaddeus met several in the marsh; they kept just out of his reach, spitting and lashing out with two long tentacles. A Blessed Hammer or two killed them, if they hit; Thaddeus had to position himself just right.

Wandering the marshes, finding dead ends, soppy bogs, and impenetrable tangles of growth, took a long time. Thaddeus tried to go against the current, but the river was so tangled, sometimes it flowed back against itself. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he was lost. Going back to the docks by portal was easy, but he didn't seem to be getting any closer to Travincal. Mephisto was in there, and Thaddeus couldn't waste valuable time wandering around in some forsaken swamp. It pained him to admit it, but he might need a guide, even though it meant exposing them to danger.

The Iron Wolves had reached the outer walls of Kurast, so they knew the way. However, hiring one would mean dealing with Asheara, and he wasn't sure if he was feeling charitable enough to take Asheara seriously yet. Hiring one of the townsfolk might work, but who? Hratli was too smart to go out there. Thaddeus was too smart to take Ormus out there. Alkor couldn't be trusted to find his own rear after he'd been "testing" his elixirs. Meshif still didn't feel comfortable even getting off his boat. So, Thaddeus went to speak with Natalya. He'd have to apologize for the banana peel incident, of course.

When Thaddeus entered the marketplace, she wasn't there. Perhaps she was out hunting evil. Then, very suddenly, she appeared behind him. "Hello."

Normally, Thaddeus was not the excitable sort, but he *never* knew there was someone behind him. He almost hit her. "Oh, hello! I apologize, I was startled."

"Good," she grinned. "I'm not losing my touch. What can I do for you?"

"Well, firstly, I would like to apologize for my earlier rudeness."

"What rudeness?" she asked quizzically.

"I... did not trust your word, or take you very seriously."

"You shouldn't take my word, if I'm lying that badly. And I like it when people don't take me seriously. Makes it easier to get 'em in the end."

Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably. "Yes... Cain has told me he suspects you to be of the Viz-Jaq'taar, the order of Mage Slayers."

"Not so loud, ok?" Natalya smiled. "Don't see why that would make you nervous."

He blinked. "Madam... if what Cain says is true, your order is dedicated to policing the mage clans... by killing any who step out of line."

"So? How is that different from what you do?"

Frowning, Thaddeus crossed his arms. "There is a world of difference. The Protectors of do not conceal themselves, emerging only to kill, and then vanish again. We guard and shield common people and great alike. Doing good for the world is more than eliminating evil."

She was unfazed. "This is a weird apology, you know."

Thaddeus glared... then slowly lowered his eyes. "You are right. I am judging you ill again. That has become a very bad habit of mine."

"Especially since you don't know what you're talking about. How do you know that all the Viz-Jaq'taar does is sneak around and kill people?"

"That is all anyone knows."

"Well, maybe they know wrong. Nobody knows anything about the Viz-Jaq'taar, so everyone assumes the worst. How do you know we don't have more charities than you guys? Because we don't make a big public statement about it? Because we don't go around making sure everybody knows what nice stuff we do, getting them to admire us? Don't criticize what you don't understand."

Try as he might, he couldn't see Natalya running a soup kitchen. "Concealment is the way of evil, hiding in darkness. It has always been."

Natalya laughed. "You're taking on the church of Light. They never hid the terrible things they were doing. Must be a real nice bunch of guys, they operate so openly. You have no idea what you're talking about. If we let them know where we are, the mages would destroy us. Secrecy is the only advantage we have over the magically gifted."

"The church's words were a mask over their deeds; the motivation was concealed behind rhetoric and twisted readings of the scriptures. Horrible as they were, the open statements allowed the wise to see what was happening. Your order claims to watch the mages, but no one is allowed access to them; who watches over the watchmen?"

"We've taken many steps to keep demons out."

"So did Zakarum," he snorted. "I do not believe anything is inviolable anymore. Stealth and the creation of confusion would be more vulnerable to corruption than anything else, it seems to me. It is too easy to simply lie."

"Yeah, I lie, and sneak around, and no one knows about it. Not all of us have the luxury of clanking along in shiny armor, and looking down our noses at everybody else."

Thaddeus fumed, but slowly said, "All I am saying is that lying and hiding can conceal anything, and good people rarely have things they need to hide. Evil thrives in hiding. The assumption is a natural one, and only to be expected. I am not looking down my nose at you. You're too tall, for one thing."

"Evil can hide anywhere, even out in the open. Wait a minute, did you just crack a funny?"

"Yes. I can do that, can't I?"

"I was beginning to wonder. Ok, maybe you're right, there's not much accountability from the outside. We can't lie to each other, unlike you churchmen."

He sighed. "They have been lying to themselves, I think. Anyone can do that."

"Yeah... not much anyone can do about that. Anyway, your sort-of apology is sort-of accepted. What do you really want?"

He'd gotten so distracted, he had to think for a moment to remember. "Ah, I have had difficulty making my way through the marshes. If you know the way into Travincal, and could find a way to help me, I would be very grateful."

"Sorry, I don't know my way in there. My orders are to keep an eye on Ormus."

"Ormus? He seems unbalanced, but hardly threatening."

"He'd like you to think that, but who knows what evil lurks in his soul?"

Thaddeus smiled a bit. "Now, who's making assumptions?"

"He's a mage," she said, as though that explained everything. "I'd like to help you, I know you're going up against the greater evil, but I have to stay here. He could betray us all to Mephisto if given a chance."

Slowly, Thaddeus nodded. "Asheara does not bother you, though?"

With a snort, Natalya answered, "She's nothing but bluff. Tough-talking, but she's never faced true evil. You can tell."

"All talk and no action?"

"Exactly. I mean, who'd go into combat in that outfit?"

A few choice comments about Natalya's own ensemble leapt to mind, but they were better left unsaid. "Someone with something to prove. Or it's for the 'distraction' value. Mages tend to need less armor than other warriors."

"A 'distraction'? You can't have noticed."

"Why not? She's an attractive woman, even if she does try a bit too hard."

"Uh..." Natalya seemed genuinely shocked. "Sure. You had any more thoughts about your church? And Sankekur? What are you going to do about him?"

Thaddeus frowned. "I am not sure what I will do when I find him. They tell me Sankekur now embodies Mephisto."

"He does."

"I cannot quite believe it. I have read sermons of Sankekur's, letters he wrote to the brethren in other lands. His voice was so clear and pure. I cannot connect that voice with someone who embody Hate. The two cannot mesh in my mind."

"There's darkness in everyone's soul. When you're the head of a church, with thousands of followers, power can go to your head."

"That can happen," Thaddeus said. "For the great, temptations are great. Temptations confuse the mind. Power, ideals, the morality handed down to us, and practical necessity are at war. Perhaps a great and powerful man might be tempted to play god."

Natalya said, "There's conflict in everybody between good and evil, rational and irrational. Good doesn't always triumph. Sometimes the dark side overcomes the better angels of our nature. Every man has a breaking point, and the darkness can find it."

On that cheery note, Thaddeus returned to the jungle. The marshes went on forever, all soggy muck and tangled trees. Insects just loved to crawl into his armor, looking for blood or a place to live. Even the monsters made a mess; drowned carcasses let out a horrific splash when you hit them. The Cleansing aura was getting a lot of use. Occasionally, a corpse would shatter and melt away neatly, thanks to the Frostburns, but not often enough. Along the way, he wondered about Natalya. She wasn't such a bad sort, certainly not as bad as her order's reputation. In a way, she and he did similar things: keeping an eye on evil, and eliminating it when necessary. Doing more would compromise her order's secrecy, though Thaddeus wasn't convinced secrecy was really necessary.

She's also been surprised he'd make a joke, or acknowledge a woman's attractiveness. True, Thaddeus was never the funniest fellow. Even back in seminary, the other students teased him about it. So serious. So earnest... completely unlike the Mule. Every note the Mule left was full of jokes, ribbing, and outspoken humor. Almost...

The thought was interrupted, as a horde of psychotic midgets scampered out of the jungle, howling and gibbering and leaping onto Thaddeus. Flayers, but Thaddeus had never seen this many. They were actually climbing up his body to get closer to his face; three were on his head already, trying to stab his eyes out. Shaking them off, Thaddeus dropped to one knee, and let Blessed Hammer spin. It was a lousy position for defense, but the hammers hit this time; hearing the whirling bronze mallets pound the little guys into jelly was strangely satisfying. By the time the Flayer shaman was carried over, all the underlings were dead. Thaddeus knocked him off his ride easily.

As he continued, he ran into Flayers, and more Flayers, and still more Flayers. Hordes of 20 or more were not uncommon. This section of jungle must be their home area. The hardest part of fighting them was remaining calm and letting the hammers fly; their shrill screaming was quite unnerving. Fortunately, Blessed Hammer did excellent work on tightly compressed groups, leaving only a few survivors to mop up. Sometimes, the shamans would come within Blessed Hammer's range too; they didn't last very long. Certain Flayers used blowguns, with tiny darts, but the "Lore" helm reduced the damage to insignificance; he only had to chase down the Flayer itself. Holy Freeze was helpful for that.

The Flayer Jungles went by with great ease, and eventually Thaddeus found a small village. Literally, a small village. The huts were only 4 or 5 feet tall. The place was full of flayed and dismembered bodies, human and otherwise. Human heads decorated stakes on every roof, and every low wall. Of course, it was full of Flayers. After wiping them out, Thaddeus found a small knife, suspended above a pedestal in the middle of a magic circle. It was made of copper, and shone red in the light. Looking at it, Thaddeus frowned. By Hratli's description, this was the Gidbinn. A small, Skatsimi knife, a repository of magical energy. Thaddeus just hadn't thought about what that meant.

The old religion relied on sacrifice, blood and death to release magical energy. The sacrificial blade was an obvious way to store this energy. The Gidbinn looked old, and had probably been in use for a long time before Zakarum came to the land. It might even have been used afterwards; Skatsim was suppressed, but its adherents were not killed or imprisoned for life. Not in those days.

But now... Hratli wanted to use the energy in the knife to increase the power in his spell. It would protect the people on the dockside. The thought of using this disgusting thing was revolting for Thaddeus. The simplest rituals of the Paladin also use sacrifice, but the Paladin sacrifices of himself, his own blood and energy going into his blade. Taking from another was repugnant and wrong, even worse if their life is taken away to feed some magic. The Gidbinn was an instrument for dark rituals, a power sink. Every bit of mana stored in that blade had come at the cost of pain, probably even death. But if he did not use it, he'd have to find some other mana source, and Thaddeus wasn't sure where he might find one. Every time he went back, the jungle had crept closer to the docks. The people needed the protection of the spell dome, no matter what the source or power.

Thaddeus could think of many good reasons to return with the blade; the only reason against it was his own repugnance for the relic. That was no good reason at all, so Thaddeus went to pick up the Gidbinn. As he touched it, it vanished, and fire leapt up from the pillar. A trap! A small group of Flayers ran screeching out of the darkness -- the one in the lead wielding the Gidbinn. Calmly, Thaddeus knelt, and sent hammers spinning into them. It was a short battle, and the Gidbinn was his.

As a modern earth and fire mage, Hratli didn't know how to draw power out of the Gidbinn. Ormus did; maybe Natalya was right to worry about him. As a reward, he gave Thaddeus a ring, which did him no good, and composed a poem commemorating the event:

A holy knight in Kurast, some would say he is not brave,

Retreating from close combat which he clearly does not crave.

His manners and appearance are clearly meant to please,

So polished is his armor (he's charged outrageous fees.)

But woe to moaning Zombies, which lurk among the dips,

And especially to the Flayers with whom he comes to grips!

Though evil hordes press forward, to victory they think,

They became carpentry projects; you could say that they stink.

Who can say whether his methods are sound, or deeply flawed?

Darkness begins its last retreat when he holds up his rod!

Thaddeus smiled, and applauded politely. Ormus obviously meant well. The useless ring he gave didn't do Thaddeus any good either, but he thanked him nonetheless. While Ormus had been reciting his masterwork, one of the Iron Wolves told Thaddeus that Asheara would like to see him.

"Hi there," Asheara said as Thaddeus walked in. "How's the jungle treating you?"

"Hello, Asheara. You wished to see me?"

"Rumor around town is that you need a guide to get into Kurast."

"It... would be helpful. I do not know the way."

"Why didn't you say so?" Asheara motioned one of her mages over. "This is Devak. With the protection dome juiced up, I don't need him on the docks anymore. Devak, you wanna take our boy into Kurast?"

"Sure, ma'am. Hey, where are you in the jungle?"

"At a small village. A very small village."

"Hey, you're in the Flayer Jungle. Great -- I love the smell of burning Flayers."

Asheara laughed. "Wish I could join you. Pity I don't have that sartorial flair."

If an Iron Wolf had been listening in on his conversation with Natalya, Thaddeus hadn't noticed him. He was sure Natalya would have; Natalya didn't like Asheara. Maybe one of the townsfolk heard them. "You look fine, Asheara. Flowing robes wouldn't suit you."

"Damn straight," Asheara grinned. "Come see me again sometime, Teddy-boy. There's nothing to be scared of in here."