Legends of Tarthirious: The Complete Collection

by Zachariah Dracoulis

Once we reached the site of Blazie’s cremation he turned away and flew off to Gods’ know where, Hel, he could’ve actually been flying to the Gods for all we knew, but that’s beside the point, his fires had revealed a large stone door, covered in strange runes and engravings.

  Aldok Dethrisr’s Hideout discovered.

  Journal entry made.

  Progress made in mission: Back From the Dead.

  Objective completed: Go to Aldok Dethrisr’s Hideout.

  Objective added: Find a Way into Aldok Dethrisr’s Hideout.

  “Any clue?” I asked hopefully.

  Gerry dismounted and started running his hand across the undoubtedly still hot door, “Not a one. I suppose that comes with the territory of master quests, doesn’t it?” he said with a chuckle.

  I, on the other hand, was less amused. We’d found the access point, and that was great, but it was a damn puzzle door that neither of us knew how to open. Normally something would’ve popped up, a rough translation of the text and maybe an even easier version written in the quest description, but not this time.

  I gave a defeated sigh and leaned against the door, “Wish we still had Dillop around, I’m sure he’d be able to get this thing open in no time.”

  Gerry’s eyes lit up, “That’s it! I am the idea machine today!”

  “What’s it?” I asked as Gerry started walking over to Shadow-Stal.

  “We go to the Ministry of Druidic Affairs and you start the Path. Surely you’d learn a thing or two about runes, and you might even be able to get Dillop to follow you out here.”

  “So… your plan is we bury hours upon hours in a guild questline that may or may not help us do the quest we’re already halfway through, not to mention travel time of going almost right across the map in search of the MoDA Citadel that we’ll undoubtedly need to constantly ask for directions to?”

  Gerry regarded me unsurely for a few seconds before giving a definitive nod, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Besides, guild questlines always have decent rewards.”

  We continued to look at each other for a while, Gerry trying to get a read on me, me trying to discern whether he actually wanted to do go to all the effort just so I could make ends meet, until I gave a shrug and a smile, “Alrighty then, let’s get a move on.”

  Armelia: Chapter 3

  There was a good hour’s worth of mind-numbing trotting past the nearest fast travel point we had together, Lukithir, before we reached a town that had clearly been touched by magic.

  Shire of Rolayi discovered.

  Journal entry made.

  “What is this place?” I asked as we passed another unnaturally lush green garden next to yet another beautiful cottage.

  “I’ve no idea,” Gerry said, looking around at the complete lack of shops and people in the sizeable township, “is it possible the clock’s just buggered?”

  I shook my head, already having eliminated that idea a few seconds prior, “Doesn’t explain the missing shops. Maybe it’s a trader village? Wagons and whatnot pass through at midday?”

  “Even then there’d be people walking around.”

  I found a place to hitch up Shadow-Stal, a seemingly randomly placed pole in front of one of the cottages, and jumped off, “What should we do then? We’ve been riding for ages, and for all we know we could be going in the wrong direction.”

  “I reckon we take a look around, if there’s nothing then we jump back on the road and keep riding to the next town.”

  It was a mildly annoying suggestion, the unbearable anxiety of being in a completely unknown environment bearing down on me as I started involuntarily doing the math on how much gold I was losing out on by not sticking to the quest from before. He was right though, the only other option was to fast travel back the way we came and pick another direction.

  We walked around for a while, longer than I wanted to honestly, before deciding to turn back. That’s when things started to get… weird.

  “Who’s a pretty pony?” a thickly accented but high-pitched voice said from behind Shadow-Stal. “You, that’s who!”

  I instinctively went into a combative stance, not pulling out a weapon but preparing for the worst, while Gerry created tiny flowers made of pure flame in his palms.

  “Is that your owners coming?” the voice said as we slowly crept up, “They’d want to be careful, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t want to get hurt…” the voice trailed off, whispering things to my horse that I couldn’t quite hear but still made me incredibly uncomfortable.

  We were just about to get a look at the horse fetishist when Gerry cried “Gods!” as a red waistcoat and brown trouser wearing gnome suddenly jumped up from where he’d been hiding and landed on Shadow-Stal’s back.

  “Top of the morning to you, too!” the gnome said in his distinctly Irish accent as he took a puff from his pipe, “Sorry to surprise you like that, bit of a joke we like to play on travellers like yerself.”

  I wasn’t ready to open my mouth, the tiny man before me tussling his black curls and itching his large ears, his name, Viti Goodwill, only appearing once he’d finished.

  At first I wanted to laugh at Gerry for freaking out, but decided against it when I realised I may have screamed a little as well. After that thought passed I wanted to attack the creepy critter, but, again, decided against it. For all I knew he could’ve been the sole habitant of the town, and he could know exactly where the MoDA Citadel was too.

  “Good morrow, how are you?” I asked as enthusiastically as I possibly could.

  The gnome turned to me and smiled, “Good to see at least one of you ain’t a little girl. I’m well. What brings you to these parts?”

  I thought about my options for a moment before settling on “Adventure.”

  “Ha! Doubt you’ll find much of that ‘round here. You do look awful tired though, how ‘bout you come inside and I fetch us a drink?”

  That’s about the point when I started to become suspicious of the gnome’s intentions, but quickly brushed them away when I realised there wasn’t much he could do to hurt me.

  Stepping into Viti’s home, I felt an unmistakable warmth spread over me, the kind of feeling I’d get going into a grandparent’s home or a full-sized gingerbread house.

  It was a simple place, decorated with paintings of what I assumed were his family and smelling of warm milk and cookies. He led us through to a room in the far corner of the house and had us sit at a regular sized oak table.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why the hospitality?” I asked after Viti had left the room to get us drinks.

  “Not much in the way of company in my life I’m sad to say, and not many travellers make their way through Rolayi, which is weird when you consider the definition of the word.”

  I waited for him to explain what he meant for a while before accepting that he wasn’t going to, “Which is?”

  “Safe,” the gnome said as he returned, a wooden tray bearing three flagons in his hands, “Gnomish greeting for protection and prosperity.”

  I took the flagon offered to me and started thinking as I drank. I knew I’d heard the name somewhere, I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  “When were the last travellers here?” Gerry asked after almost completely draining his drink.

  “Oooh, oh that’d be quite some time ago now. Right before we started using our blessings.” Viti said as he hopped up onto a chair across from ours.

  “Blessings?” I asked. Every word he said made my head itch, whatever was going on here was big, but I still had no idea what it was.

  Viti nodded, “The God of fertility, helps to grow the gardens and the crops, and you should see the malipas grove. Best one in all of Tarthirious.”

  “I’d blub to.” Gerry slurred.

  “Arlb you okaaay…” I incoherently mumbled back.

  My vision started to blur, my hands felt like they were rapidly changing in size, and somewhere off in the distance I could hear Viti laughing.

  Mission St
arted: Flarb Blarb Bimblethwart.

  Objective added: Niknak.

  Armelia: Chapter 4

  I awoke in a field next to Gerry, both of us tied to metal chairs that were built into the rotted earth beneath our feet. Dark clouds swirled around us, and a daemonic looking symbol had been painted in blood at our feet.

  “Well,” I said, looking at the desolate wasteland that surrounded us, “this is horrifying. Can you cast anything?”

  Gerry shook his head, “Nothing useful. Can you see him?”

  “Who?”

  “Viti,” Gerry said as he scanned the horizon, “I could’ve sworn I saw him a few seconds ago, he keeps moving though.”

  That’s when I heard the disturbing Gnomish laughter returning, “Oh good,” I said with a shudder, “what’s the bet he’s going to eat our toes or something?”

  “I won’t be touching you,” Viti said from behind us, “wouldn’t want to sully you for my master.”

  “Aaand that’s made it a million times worse. Who’s your master?”

  “You’ll see. He’s coming…”

  Before I could ask what he was talking about we were suddenly buffeted by horrifying images of Hel, screaming souls being tortured, daemons roaring in pleasure. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to put the pieces together, only just managing it before the dark, twisted form appeared before me.

  “It’s the fertility God,” I whispered over to Gerry, “it’s a-”

  “The Daemon Lord of Lust, Olfdiraz,” the vile creature spat, “you should at least know what you’re dealing with before opening your stupid hole.”

  Daemon Lord of Lust discovered.

  Journal entry made.

  It took Olfdiraz a few tries of morphing before he found a semi human form, unnaturally tall and mysterious and surrounded by what seemed to be trapped souls.

  After the Hellish images and clouds settled, gnomes started to appear from all over the barren field, each one walking toward us and wearing black cloaks with white skulls on them.

  Olfdiraz stalked his way over to me, before bending down and licking my cheek, “Mmm, very fresh.”

  “Well… this is a very uncomfortable experience for me…” I said, reliving memories of the last messed up quest I’d done a few years ago.

  The daemon ignored my remark and turned to Gerry, who he also licked, “Less fresh.” he said after spitting on the dirt. “Is this what you expect me to take as sacrifice Viti? A single man and woman. You used to bring me dozens!”

  “These are trying times master, few travel through Rolayi since those few escaped. We… I believe that they must’ve warned the others who used to use this path.”

  Olfdiraz snarled, “I don’t need your excuses, I need blood and flesh. The longer it takes you all to bring me souls, the longer it takes for me to make you into the Lords of the new world.”

  There was a long silence, followed by an unfamiliar voice squeaking something.

  “What was that?” Olfdiraz snapped, spinning on his feet.

  “W-w-we could alter the path down the road, force traders this way?”

  The daemon pointed his long finger into the crowd, finding the one who spoke, and smiled, “See Viti, that’s what I like to hear. Ideas, not excuses.”

  “I thought you said you prayed to the God of Fertility,” I said, interrupting the only incredibly creepy daemon, “what’s this… thing?”

  Both the daemon and Viti shot me a harsh look, Viti going as far as to jump up on my lap and slap me in the face, “How dare you!? Olfdiraz is a Lord, not some thing that you can blatantly insult! He is our God, he helps the crops grow and prevents ‘adventurers’ like you from raiding our village.”

  “So… you were being attacked by bandits and decided to make a deal with a daemon? Doesn’t that cause more problems than it solves?”

  Apparently that earned me another slap, making me almost automatically check my HP which was still reading full.

  Olfdiraz smiled wickedly at the punishment that I was enduring, “Very good Viti, I suppose two will work just… fine.” he lingered on the ‘fine’ a lot longer than I’d have liked.

  Progress made in mission: Flarb Blarb Bimblethwart.

  Objective completed: Niknak.

  Objective added: Enjoy the Show.

  I was glad to finally have the Common writing return to my objectives, but less so that it came across in an awfully foreboding manner.

  Just like that the gnomes started dancing around, singing some kind of evil party music, then suddenly a table appeared in front of us, cakes and other sweets decorating it in an inviting yet horrifying way, formed in the unmistakeable shape of a pentagram.

  “Please don’t.” I said as Olfdiraz sat across from us, having just created a puffy pink and blue suit for himself, “No, really… don’t.”

  But the daemon ignored my pleas, and the gnomes continued to sing their twisted song and dance their unsettling dance.

  Twas’nt my favourite thing.

  “Now,” Olfdiraz said, licking his lips, “eat the cake.”

  Gerry squirmed and shook his head, “You know what? I think I’ll be right, thanks.”

  “It wasn’t a request, little man. Eat the cake or I will open you from chin to balls and stuff it in myself.”

  “So we’re eating cake!” Gerry said in mock enthusiasm.

  Progress made in mission: Flarb Blarb Bimblethwart.

  Objective completed: Enjoy the Show.

  Objective added: Escape.

  I waited for cutlery to appear, or a glowing key, or something, anything, but I had no such luck.

  I’d had the ‘Escape’ objective in the past, but there was almost always something that directed me on the right path, a glowing light at the end of a tunnel, the sound of a babbling brook.

  Whatever we were doing on that mission, it was weird, and I’d certainly have appreciated it in theory, but I knew that if I didn’t get my act together soon and figure out what in the Hel I was supposed to do I’d be dead, and nobody wants that.

  Armelia: Chapter 5

  I struggled against the restraints, the dark humour of art imitating life not getting lost on me at all, but at least at the station I wasn’t bound.

  Or licked.

  “Maybe we should just eat the cake, see what happens from there?” Gerry said as he too writhed.

  I shook my head, “It’ll be poisoned or something, no way am I eating that.”

  The song was reaching for its final note, and I was pretty sure I was moments from becoming digested by Olfdiraz. That’s when things decided to get even weirder.

  Out of nowhere, literally, Shadow-Stal appeared beside the daemon, standing on his hind legs, wearing shiny ornamental armour, and holding a sword awkwardly in his front right hoof against Olfdiraz’s throat.

  “Step away from the rider!” he commanded, “Lest I behead you dark one!”

  Olfdiraz slithered to his feet, almost coming to touch noses with Shadow-Stal, “You do not lay orders unto me! I am a Daemon Lord, and you will show me some respect!”

  Gerry opened his mouth a couple of times while the two continued to have a semi Shakespearean argument, before settling on “What the Hel?”

  I shrugged, gluing my eyes back to the spectacle, a huge grin plastered on my face, “I don’t care, it’s beautiful.”

  Suddenly the two starting fighting, escalating from pushing, to punching, and finally to the point where Olfdiraz made a daemonic sword appear out of nothing and started slashing at Shadow-Stal, who, as expected, was having none of it.

  In an amazing act of agility, Shadow-Stal jumped up onto the table and, while using the high ground advantage, brought down an incredible barrage of attacks on the daemon’s ill-timed blocks.

  I laughed as cake splattered all over the place, and found myself not cheering for either side and instead for the display to continue.

  It only took Shadow-Stal a few more times to truly break Olfdiraz’s defence, a heavy downward
slice knocking the blade from the daemon’s already weakened grip. The horse champion jumped down off the table, keeping the tip of the blade pressed to Olfdiraz’s chest as he did so.

  They shared an intense stare for a while, Olfdiraz clearly looking for a break in Shadow-Stal’s attention and finding none. In a silly tempt of fate, he went to make a move for his sword behind him, which promptly earned him a slap across the face with the side of the sword, and another on the other cheek for good measure.

  “Good job, for a horse, what is it that you plan to do now?” Olfdiraz taunted.

  “Serve justice.” and with that said, Shadow-Stal swung his sword, cleaving the daemon’s head from his body and sending blood flying everywhere.

  For some reason I had an almost unbearable urge to applaud, a reason that was explained a few seconds later when the gnomes, the still headless Olfdiraz, and Shadow-Stal, all went to stand a good fifteen feet from us, link hands, and start bowing.

  “You have to be kidding me…” I mumbled as I looked at the time lost to us.

  “Bravo!” Gerry shouted as he shot from his chair, the restraints finally gone, “Bravo! How marvellous was that!?”

  “Yes…” I groaned as I slowly stood, “marvellous.”

  Progress made in mission: Flarb Blarb Bimblethwart.

  Objective completed: Escape.

  Objective added: Give Constructive Feedback.

  I poked my tongue out at the new objective as the table and chairs vanished, and all of a sudden we were back in Viti’s sitting room, standing not too far from the table we’d first been at.

  “What’d you think?” the gnome asked from where he stood, his hands behind his back and a rather chuff looking expression about him.

  “What’d I think?” I asked with no attempt to hide my disdain, “I think you just wasted a great deal of my time, and now I’m going to chop off your disproportionately sized head with a spoon!”

  “Well I loved it.” Gerry said indignantly.

  I gave him a sour look, “Not helping.” I said before snapping my attention back to the gnome, “What in the Hel did you do to us?”