Struggles

Leafloss 1, 833 I. E.

16 Years after Albert's Exile

Northern Valorim

They didn't have much to say besides adventuring small talk for the first two days. ("The weather is good." "I'm sure we've gone four miles, we should've been at the next town by now. Check the map again." "Should we pass those wandering monsters or try to intercept them?")

On the third evening, while the campfire crackled, Helen finally said, "I'm just glad she didn't ask us who is responsible."

Sschass looked around, and Helen glanced at him, then said aloud, "Would the Empress really bother sending spies after us? They're busy enough quarantining Footracer Province."

Sschass allowed, "True. And not talking about it is smothering my mind."

Helen protested, "What's there to talk about? The king will decide whether this is a good idea or not."

Albert put in, "Sure, deliver the scroll. But why do we have to help the Empire? We are in the Avernite Adventuring Corps. We have the right to refuse missions. Deliver scrolls, scout the surface, sure, but actually help the Empire kill vahnati? We don't have to accept a mission to do that."

Frruh purred, "I like the way you're thinking, Albert, but don't stop there. We've got most of the continent to travel before we can return to Upper Avernum. Perhaps the Empress' scroll will have an unfortunate accident."

Helen said firmly, "I don't like the Empire, but I like being underhanded less."

Sschass tapped the scroll tube and said thoughtfully, "You mean, if it accidentally fell in the fire while we were reading it one night?"

Frruh regarded the tube. "It probably has some level of spells on it to detect that and alert an Empire mage. Even if they believed it was an accident, they might simply give us another scroll, or find a way to teleport it directly to Avernum. It'd be harder to detect if we accidentally lost it over the edge of a dangerous mountain pass."

Helen shot Albert a look, one meant to indicate, "Are you going to let this continue?" However, he didn't catch it.

Instead, Albert said, "Sneaky isn't my style, and the king is the king; this is his jog. I don't mind saying I'd like to personally throw it back at the Empress. But it still bothers me. The vahnati were sneaky. Really sneaky. And not even just to the Empire. To us, too. I can't believe they lied to our faces," Albert said, pacing in agitation. "Why would they do that?"

Sschass suggested, "The best reason I can think of is that they didn't want to burden us with the knowledge. It was their vengeance, they didn't need our approval, and they didn't want us involved in the affair. At the end of the last war, the Empire retreated out of the caves; they never surrendered or even asked for a truce. By my people's standards, the last war is not over; perhaps the same is true for the vahnati. Not that we haven't all acted as though the war is over."

Frruh noted, "The same is true by my people's standards of war. To be honest, I thought that even your human standards labeled that a lull in hostilities, not an end to them. But on another point. Back in Ghikra, I didn't want to press the issue, but I was suspicious of why the Crystal Souls would want to leave their homes and move closer to the Empire that kidnapped them. Their explanation was rational, but something still felt wrong about it. Now it's clear - they wanted, perhaps needed, to be close to the plagues they're sending. To steer them, or think up new ones. And most of all, to relish the Empire's suffering."

"That's sick," Albert muttered.

Frruh shrugged. "You're the one who felt sorry for the wrongs the Souls suffered at the hands of the Empire."

Albert shook his head, saying, "I know but, but - I don't know!" He flung himself back to the ground in a sitting position. He looked Helen in the eye. "What do you really think?"

"Really think?" she said, annoyed.

Albert persisted, "Not what you think you ought to think. What you really think."

Helen deeply desired to tell him she never behaved like that, but deep down she knew it would be a lie, and besides, she wanted to talk about this matter as much as everyone else, however much or little authority they had. "I don't want to do this, Albert. But I suspect we must. The vahnati are our friends, but - what they're doing is sick, like you said! Literally! And making others sick! Making so many people suffer like that! And like you said, lying to us about it. I can't trust them now. Back in the war, they thought we kidnapped the Crystal Souls, so they attacked us at first - I understand an honest mistake. This isn't a mistake.

She groaned. "But it's not as though the Empire hasn't done the same, or worse. And I don't trust the Empire, either. Except I really want that land the Empress offered. Not that we know it's any good, or they'll keep their word. And I'd feel like we'd be selling out the vahnati, even though they deserve it. I don't know!"

Sschass said aloud, "When I think about reasons not to do it, there are several. Albert, everyone I've ever talked to has said that the Empire rules all the surface. Can we really count on the empress giving up that point of pride to the sons of criminals?"

Albert shrugged, "I see the point. But the Empire could still practically say it. It's not that much land that they're giving us. I hadn't thought of it that way, though."

"I can see either possibility as being true," Sschass agreed. "My main concern lies elsewhere. If we side with the Empire, I fear the vahnati's vengeance on Avernum."

"On us?" Albert said, surprised, and Helen protested, "But why would they attack us?"

Sschass reminded them, "We would be betraying our alliance with them, and siding with their great enemy. It's one thing to fight their monsters while ignorant of their source. But sooner or later, we'll have to confront the vahnati, and, I fear, force them to stop making these plagues, or new ones. They will hate us for that. There is far less distance between us and them than between them and the surface.

"Also, the vahnati's methods are honed now. Have you noticed that the plagues have gotten more sophisticated? They went from slimes to roaches, from roaches to giants and troglodytes, then to golems, and now to the alien beasts. Perhaps they didn't make them in that order, but they're now able to make factories producing some of the deadliest monsters ever."

Helen put in, "They could rule the world with them."

"Possibly," Sschass agreed. "And, the vahnati are learning right now from how we destroyed them, to produce new defenses, and wield their beasts in new ways. Can you imagine golems charging through Cotra? Alien beasts roaming the fields near Formello? A combined vahnati-monster assault on the Castle? We may face all of that if we defy the vahnati. The vahnati aren't unstoppable, but I'm not sure Avernum could survive that war."

Helen noted, "I fear the vahnati reprisals, too. It's really my main reason for not opposing them. But we have to do what we think is right."

"At what cost?" Sschass argued.

"It's all our families on the line," Helen reminded him. "I do see your meaning, I can't risk all Avernum to satisfy my moral urges. And I don't want to undo all the hard work that Bon-Ihrno and Captain Tompkins and his squad put into rescuing the Crystal Souls and forging the alliance. But I can't stand before God or that hospital in Bigail and say that the vahnati are in the right with what they're doing now.

"Besides, as long as we're speculating, I can paint another scenario. If we decline the empress' offer, then she probably will figure out sooner or later who made the monsters. She has no options left but to attack the vahnati directly. She'll establish new portals and invade the caverns again. I'd like to think that the Empire would only attack the vahnati, but realistically, they'll probably try to conquer us, too. I could be wrong. But we're more likely facing a choice of which foe to fight in the next war, not a choice between war and peace."

They all sat back a moment and considered the matter.

Frruh finally spoke and said, "Then why should we choose the foe which has done wrong to all of us? The vahnati have only barely affected us. The Empire has banished my people and yours from the stars, the sun, the wind, the sea. That was when they weren't hunting us like animals. The vahnati are using extreme tactics. So did the Empire when they hired eyebeasts to raze Cotra. I'm not sure that, to the average Empire footsoldier, a vahnati is so different from any one of a number of magical monsters in this world. Both are non-human, and both want to kill him. I can condemn the vahnati's creations and use of beasts. But I summon wild and magical animals to strike my foes. Because this is a cruel world, and we must use every weapon, or we get eaten."

Sschass let out a long breath, hissing as it wended through his teeth. He eventually said, "Frruh, I can't agree with all of that. Yet the Empire is my foe, too. And I've plainly seen that there are plenty in the Empire who would treat my people as they have yours. It's one of many reasons to think that peace with the Empire wouldn't last. Who should we side with?"

There was a slight breeze, and the cry of an owl. Albert stood and gesticulated, saying in a strained voice, "I don't know. I've got to get some air. Got to think."

Helen watched him go with concern, but it was clear within a few minutes that he was wandering within bowshot, head in his hands, or occasionally disordering his hair.

Frruh listened carefully to be sure that Albert was out of human hearing range. An opportune silence had gathered around the campfire, so he told those remaining, "There is still one way left to keep peace with all involved."

He had Helen and Sschass' full attention, and he felt guilty for the hopes he realized he was going to have to betray. "We could give up on the surface."

Their faces fell, worse than he had expected. Finally, Helen offered in response, "Albert could never do that."

"I agree, that would be his answer," Frruh told her. "That is why I am asking you."

A log popped on the fire, and Helen busied herself with rearranging some of the other logs, then with adding some wood, then with watching the sparks fly into the night sky, up to the stars above. Finally she said, "I love Avernum still. But its symbol is the sun. Most of the people never wanted to be there. The problem was always the Empire. Now we've been blessed with the chance to make a land with Avernum's freedoms, but on the surface. Besides, after this, I can't trust the vahnati. They elaborately framed Erika and the dragons, and lied to our faces. They hid this plan because they feared our disapproval. I also can't endorse what they're doing. And I couldn't live with myself if I were so conniving as to disapprove of what the vahnati did, but stood by and let them do it, then took the surface after everyone here was dead. How would I be any different from those bandits in Krizsan province, using the monsters to get my own way? How are the vahnati any different from them? The vahnati's vengeance is wrong."

A bit later, Albert flung himself back onto his seat in the midst of announcing, "I can't ignore this coincidence that I doubt is coincidence. The Empire can afford and is willing to give us what we've always wanted. That was always the unspoken problem behind this whole enterprise - what desperate deed or war would we have to fight to take some of the surface from the Empire? And here they're giving it away! Not for free, but, it's a price we can afford to pay. This opportunity may never come again." He groaned, looked into the campfire, then finally allowed, "Much as I love the vahnati, I can't ignore what they're doing. Whole villages that never lifted a finger against the crystal souls are dying. The vahnati knew how much the surface meant to us, and they're destroying the land and its people and its plants and animals. If they thought they were helping us, they could've asked. They helped us with every other part of reaching the surface, so not mentioning this part of their plans is simply sinister." He sighed and said, "I could easily see: maybe two years from now, maybe two hundred, the Empire will march into the portion of the surface they gave us and want it back. But there's no way around that. At least this way there's a chance for some time of peace."

Sschass had been tracing the wood grain on his spear shaft as he listened. Now he spoke, "Albert, Helen, I agree. I've fought with cunning and stealth. All do at some point or another. The plagues are far beyond that. The Empire has been wrong. But the vahnati are now the wrongdoers. Perhaps the Empire does deserve punishment, but are the vahnati the ones to do it? And the way in which they are doing it! They think their magics makes them gods, creating life and causing plagues. They are not. They are evil. And if we do not stop them now, I shudder to think what will occur. We set out to win the surface for Avernum. We can't back down because the vahnati are torching one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. I think they will try torching our home next, either for this, or for some future, imagined slight on their honor. We must battle them as often as we must to make sure that doesn't happen. I hope we'll be friends again with them someday, but it's not today."

Frruh hunched his shoulders, then lolled his head back to look at the sky, then paced around, but finally he sat back down. "'Yowls about past evils tell us nothing about the present good.' It's a saying of my people. The Empire struck us all; this was wrong. This is not in dispute. The dispute is what we should do now that is right. And the group is correct. Even were the vahnati justified in waging a war, this is not a war they are waging. There is also a madness in their actions. You said earlier they were getting more sophisticated, Sschass. This is true. You said the vahnati could rule the world with their plagues, Helen. So long as they have control over their creations, this is also true. But this is not how magic is to be used.

"These monsters are not summons. They don't return to their homes or to a soul crystal when no longer needed. They continue to exist here, never to leave. They continue with their insatiable hunger and mad lives, put together by abominable magic, most of them. The giants and troglodytes were evidently ripped from their own time, by what spells with what disastrous side effects I can only imagine. To take such risks with magic! We already know that the vahnati's control over their pawns is not absolute: slimes trying to infest other creatures, the friendly roaches, the giants and troglodytes happily battling each other! Any one of those cases prove it! If once any of the alien beasts managed to slip away from the vahnati's eyes and set up their own den, they could plague entire continents. The vahnati may have made them to reproduce far more than natural monsters can, and we know they were made to hunt all life. Magic used so, it is- it is disgusting. It is criminally negligent. It must be stopped."


Some Days Later

Fort Emergence, Upper Avernum

They delivered the scroll safely to Commander Anaximander, who realized it was so important that a messenger must risk going through Upper Avernum's portal, even though it would deposit the messenger in the ruins of the Tower of Magi. The king had to be told.

The messenger safely made his way out of the ruins and to the Castle, and then back to the portal and Fort Emergence. He had another scroll, containing King Micah's reply, which Albert, Helen, Frruh, and Sschass were to give to the Empress.

One alliance was made, and another broken.


Months After Albert's Exile

Grah-Hoth's Fortress

They were so close.

Nathan and his men almost had won. But now they were all about to die.

Grah-Hoth was bleeding from a bad wound on his left arm, was clearly tired, and they'd finally taken down his guards. But it was at a terrible cost. Nathan's men were exhausted and badly hurt. Warren had run out of throwing knives, and everyone was out of potions, scrolls, and wands. They'd also been separated - Derek was somewhere behind Grah-Hoth, while Nathan and the others were in front of the demon prince.

Enormous ram's horns bedecked Grah-Hoth's head, which spit at the adventurers from twenty feet above the stone floor. Nathan and Warren hurriedly shuffled so they would be between the demon prince and Father Ribaldi. The priest was trying to calm his trembling after using the last of his strength to heal Derek's forearm.

A spearpoint suddenly burst through Grah-Hoth's chest from behind, and he roared in pain. Nathan charged forward, trying to keep his elation in check, because that point had emerged too low, too low -

Indeed, it had caused great damage, but not enough to stop the monster from turning and impaling Derek at the navel, talons piercing his armor with a shriek like a striking kestrel. Nathan hoped with everything he had that Derek would stop screaming in that horrible, horrible way soon - and then, as he saw Derek crumple to the floor on the other side of Grah-Hoth's legs, Nathan hoped that Derek would make some noise, any noise at all.

A rumbling chuckle came from Grah-Hoth's lips.

Grah-Hoth turned then to face the remaining adventurers, but couldn't move as swiftly as before, so he presented his side to Nathan instead of facing him fully. Grah-Hoth raised an arm to try to catch Nathan in the ribs, but Demonslayer bit into his arm instead. As every time before that it had struck the monster, blinding light from the sword and injury made Grah-Hoth roar in amplified pain. However, the momentum of the arm still flung Nathan back, and this time, Demonslayer flew from Nathan's hand, clattering on the stones.

Nathan tried to get up, but his right arm seemed to be on fire, and his ribs and back not much better. Licking his lips, Grah-Hoth raised a hand to swat him.

There was only time for a short bark of pain as Nathan forced himself to roll out of the way. Then the stone knife Tor had given him came out of its sheath, but not to cut ropes or to skin meat. This time, it slaked its thirst in the demon, its tiny blade finding a minuscule crack in the scales near the talons as the hideous hand hit the floor.

Bellowing, Grah-Hoth retracted his hand in haste, about to smite Nathan horribly - but another stone knife struck his eye.

Warren chuckled, "We finally found a use for 'em, eh?"

Grah-Hoth fell to his knees, clutching the right side of his face, raking it with his talons as he howled.

Ribaldi probably thought he was helping Nathan to his feet, but Nathan felt more like Ribaldi was hoisting a sack of potatoes. Then, Ribaldi hurriedly pressed Demonslayer into his hand - or from Nathan's point of view, Demonslayer's hilt was slapped onto his palm, barely being caught by his fingers as he realized what was happening. But there was no time to complain, especially when Ribaldi followed it up by running and whacking at Grah-Hoth's curled elbow with his mace. There was an astonishing crunch, the arm fell limp, and Grah-Hoth roared yet again. He struck out at Ribaldi, but impaled, half-blind, and using a non-dominant and injured arm, he only knocked the priest off his feet. Nathan charged, but Warren outstripped him. Warren, slipping under Grah-Hoth's wildly waving hand, caught the demon behind the thigh. Grah-Hoth collapsed onto his side, clutching his newest injury.

Nathan braked only briefly as Grah-Hoth fell, then reoriented and charged straight for where he lay. He held Demonslayer high as he ran, then let it bite through the tyrant's neck. It flowed smoothly through, white fire following, and Grah-Hoth gave one final howl of rage before the blinding light enveloped him, and he disappeared.

The adventurers, blinking, stumbled over to where Derek was breathing shallowly, bleeding out. They stared a moment. Ribaldi tried to heal him, but crumpled to his hands and knees instead, then trembling, raised his hands to the ceiling. Derek was still bleeding.

Finally, Warren pulled out a potion from his boot and wordlessly handed it to Ribaldi, who boggled at him until he realized that it wasn't a healing potion to be given directly to Derek - it was a restorative potion. It was useless to someone like Warren, who knew no magic, but for Ribaldi -he forced his shaking hands to slow down as he unstoppered the vial, drank it, and began to heal Derek.

Warren explained to Nathan's raised eyebrows, "I thought I might need some cash someday. Never could find a chance to sell it, though. Always knew you'd make me give it to Ribaldi if you knew I had it."

Nathan grunted, not bothering to keep from smiling.

A short time later, Derek coughed from where he lay on the floor and groaned, "I could use a drink." He tried to roll over to begin sitting up.

Ribaldi held him down with a forceful finger on his forehead and vociferated, "Derek, I just regenerated your liver, and I will not have you abusing it so soon!"

Derek complained, "You enjoy the mushroom merlot with me, father."

Ribaldi countered, "Not to excess, my son. And I specifically recall that you do not enjoy the merlot, you merely drink it." He and Derek had finished the sentence together.

A short time later, Nathan pulled Ribaldi aside and asked quietly, "How soon can he travel?"

Warren had joined them and asked, "Nathan, can you travel anytime soon? Can any of us?" He gestured at the bandages festooning all of them, applied with varying degrees of skill and patience.

"The healing is done, but have patience, my son," Ribaldi said, taking off his pack and sitting down to rummage through it. "Derek, and all of us, need food."


After they had eaten, the group finally started to relax - as much as one could in an ancient palace of evil. Still, no further beings had appeared to attack them.

Derek finished a bite, chuckled awkwardly and joked nervously, "Father, you saved my life. I'll have to start treating you like a real priest now." Despite his unease, his smile was genuine, and he said "Father" differently.

Ribaldi lowered his eyes with a pained expression and said, "I don't deserve it, you know. Whatever you're seeing in me right now, it's God's way of showing favor to you, Derek.

Noticing the others staring at him, he added hastily, "Any strength or abilities I have, it's God's blessing, flowing out, blessing all of you. I'm glad to help, to do my part. But, it's not right, you see. To see me as a holy man. I proclaim a holy God's words - I'm just someone He had mercy on."

Derek quirked an eyebrow. "You can't be as bad as all that. You haven't met someone really bad - well, you have down here. But in comparison, you're not as bad as all that."

Ribaldi ran a hem of his simple robe through his fingers, asking aloud, "Aren't I worse, for hiding in a holy man's garment? I deserved my exile. For greed."

After a moment, Nathan commented, "I wasn't aware that was a crime."

"It is a sin," Ribaldi returned.

Ribaldi finally raised his eyes and met theirs, but he still hesitated. Warren flopped back to lie on the ground. Finally, Ribaldi spoke:

"Back on the surface, I ministered in a church in a small town. The town was quite proud of its beautiful little church. I was prouder. At some point, I forgot it was God's house and made it mine. People were no longer giving to God - they were giving to me. For the beautification of the church, we all said, and it did have such lovely decorations, to which I added extravagantly. It seemed wonderful at the time, you know - to be the one selected by God in charge of that place, smiled at and greeted politely wherever I went, and known to be so much more spiritual than others, such as our worldly mayor.

"Not that I wouldn't help the worldly. A town official came to me, a lost soul in need. Specifically, he needed an alibi: that we were praying together in the church. Naturally he would turn his life around and make a large donation if God would help him here. But the mayor was suspicious, and what's more, I didn't know that the church sexton had been fixing a squeaky pew in the sanctuary one evening when no one was around- the evening when the official and I swore we had been praying there. So we were caught in the lie, and I was punished with exile, and I deserve it."

Warren briefly dropped his affectations of disinterest to ask, "Why did you pick something so easily falsifiable?"

Ribaldi testily replied, "The real problem is that when the time came to take up arms against evil, I turned traitor. So many times I've rehearsed what I should've done. I should've counseled that official to confess, but I helped in a coverup instead. And the man of the flesh, the mayor, actually did his duty and prosecuted evil." He sighed and looked away, then added, "Getting thrown down here, though, it may be the best thing that ever happened to me. It reminded me of grace. God still has saved me, though I deserved condemnation. The church down here has helped me show my repentance by acting as a circuit rider, helping many cities - God through me. And now, I serve you lot, on these quests. Our gracious God still deigns to work through a traitor like me."

Warren asked, "So, we're good for you?"

Ribaldi shook his head as he contradicted, "No, I'm convinced you're bad influences on me. But it's still my job to serve you."

"I'd like some wine," Derek half-joked.

"I'll better serve you by not giving it to you now," Ribaldi half-joked back.


Author's Note

Spiderweb Software games don't involve graphic violence in the same sort of way I am portraying in this story. The point of it in this chapter was that the heroes of Avernum 1 faced a difficult and savage fight against a powerful, cruel opponent: Grah-Hoth.

Further, I don't actually recall Grah-Hoth's physical description in Avernum 1 at this point, so it may be only approximately correct.

Ribaldi is not a canonical character, just like Nathan, Warren, and Derek are not, and as Albert, Helen, Sschass, Frruh, and Captain Tompkins are not. Captain Tompkins, by the way, is one of the player characters for Exile 2 / Avernum 2 in this story.

I may be mistaken about the precise reasons why the portal is shut down if the disaster in the Tower of Magi has happened already, and whether someone does have to go through it even then for King Micah's reply.

Finally, as best I recall, in Exile 3/Avernum 3, Empress Prazac asks you to stop whoever is responsible for the monsters, but doesn't ask you to tell her who is responsible. Partly she is practical. It matters who is causing the plagues of monsters, but it matters less than stopping whoever is causing the plagues. The other reason is that I and most likely others have had playthroughs in which you actually don't yet know who is responsible for the monsters, because Spiderweb Software games allow some degree of nonlinearity. You can meet the Empress before defeating the golems and receiving the last piece of evidence of who made the monsters. In fact, I've had playthroughs in which I don't defeat the golems at all, because they're an optional quest. You can win by guessing at which of the suspects actually caused the monsters, or simply proceed without guessing to the final showdown that proves who is making the monsters and win there.