Prothall's Letters

Letter No. 1

My name is Prothall; head martial instructor for the Shaqoor academy. I’ve never had great need of quill and parchment, but it seems as though this may be the only way for me to warn anyone about what happened here.

That seems kind of silly now that I read it back. I don’t even know what happened here. For as far back as anyone can remember, the academy at Shaqoor has been training people to defend their families and friends and homes. When we came of age,my brother and I were sent here for training. The village elders said they knew we were the right ones to help defend Silana from the way we fought with each other. Don’t know what there was to defend the place from; some witless orcs that got it in their heads that we had something they wanted, the occasionally troll that wandered down out of the mountains looking for something or someone to eat.

Just realized that I hadn’t thought about my brother, Beldin, for almost a year until now; since that time he sent one of those creepy animal messengers of his. I don’t know why he couldn’t have been normal like me and hurl hammers instead of fire and lightning. Sets my teeth on edge and makes my skin crawl every time I hear that chanting start. Like the world is about to stop making sense.

Note that for anyone still reading: not having anyone around to talk to for a while makes you ramble even when you’re writing. Either that or one of these stupid quills still has some magic in it and my thoughts are spilling out on the page.

Thoughts spilling out…just like in the dreams. Really wish those would stop.

Letter No. 2

My name is Prothall; head martial instructor for the Shaqoor academy. I’ve never had great need of quill and parchment, but it seems as though this may be the only way for me to warn anyone about what happened here.

For as long as anyone cared to remember the academy at Shaqoor was a place to hone the natural talents that lay inside you so you could defend the people you loved. That is until the world went crazy.

People started sucking the lift out of the world around them wage war. Does that make any sense? DESTROY THE WORLD TO CONQUER IT! What is there that is worth ruling?

Turns out the mages at Shaqoor were even bigger idiots. One of those defilers they called them, crazier than most I call them, came knocking and the ‘less crazy’ wizards here started talking about taking the academy ‘out of space and time.’

Kept babbling about everything here being magic and that other wizard feeding off of that to make the assault. He’s trying to take this place, but destroying it in order to do so. It’s like eating a cow in order to have enough get and go to tend to the cow you just ate.

They went ahead and did it anyway. Pulled the entire academy into some ‘other world.’ Doesn’t seem like it went like they had planned though as none of them has a name for this place. I tried to go outside when we first got here only to find out there isn’t so much an outside anymore. Just blackness out there.

Then they started talking about how it didn’t QUITE work as we still seemed to be ‘intersecting another plane.’ I hear that term one more time and I’m going to puke on whoever uttered it. What they really meant to say was there was a titan sized hole where one of their libraries used to be and it seemed that monsters none of us had ever seen were finding their way into the lower levels.

Letter No. 3

My name is Prothall; head martial instructor for the Shaqoor academy. I’ve never had great need of quill and parchment, but it seems as though this may be the only way for me to warn anyone about what happened here.

Can’t get the dreams out of my head. Suppose I could start there.

I don’t know what that thing was. One of the new dwarven recruits, a cleric I think, shouted something about lilithid or illithid. I had no idea what that was until I turned.

The poor dwarf was probably the same age as me and just getting out into the world There he was bent in half backward like he was trying to stand on his own head.

Then I saw the eyes and felt that caress. Caress has never been such a true and wrong description of anything. Like the caress of a sea-hag assessing the firmess of your flesh as her next meal except INSIDE my mind. More like a cold tongue tasting my thoughts as they were wrung from the sponge that was my mind.

It seemed like an eternity that I stared into those giant unwavering silver eyes. Then came the killing. All those hapless initiates crushed by my hammer blows. Killed the dwarf, the goliath, the twin half-orcs. Only wounded the humans and the elves. Didn’t understand at the time; I had never wounded anything in my life.

I turned to find Victoria staring at me with horror on her face. Then the horror turned to anger and everything went dark. Victoria taught tactics and traps. I never understood how she was so good at tactics until that day. She was surely in my mind as much as that thing only she was much more a spike than any kind of caress.

Then I woke up in the reception hall and everything was quiet.

Letter No. 4

My name is Prothall; head martial instructor for the Shaqoor academy. I’ve never had great need of quill and parchment, but it seems as though this may be the only way for me to warn anyone about what happened here.

The mages of the world all went crazy. Even the ones here that swore they were protecting something in order to keep the world safe. Never trust a mage. Any of them. Anyone that can sneak into your mind easier than into your house can’t be trusted. Anyone that can hurl fire and lightning with the ease that you or I can hurl a hammer can’t be trusted. Anyone that can rend your thoughts from your mind or your life from your body without lifting anything you recognize as a weapon is not to be trusted.

There’s your warning.

If you’re here for treasure or magic – best of luck there may be some left below. If you’re really lucky, you’ll only have what we brought with us to deal with and none of what we found here.

If you see a six foot tall man with a silver eyed squid on his head – you run and don’t stop. Forget your ideals, your friends, family, riches. Cast it all aside and run.

If you happen to find a giant metal pyramid contraption four levels below this one, smashing it might return this place to where it belongs. Or it might not. I don’t know how to undo what they did, but the mages used that damned thing to bring us here.

Below the fourth level was always the mages’ world. Rooms and rooms that smell like hell and rotten eggs filled with those stupid books. That’s where the monsters started coming in. Watch yourself if you go that deep or just say out of there would be better advice.

- Prothall

Prothall's Letters

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