Laberia - The End of All Things

[The Vandals of Rome]

Spawn

Something wasn't right.

I could hear the forest. Feel the cool night air. Smell the blood.

Blood?

I opened my eyes. The stars were bright tonight. Why was I sleeping?

I sat up. There were bodies. Henrick. Eydis. My friends.

Something wasn't right.

I should feel something. Right?

They were bleeding.

"Hey."

I knew the voice, before I saw her.

Perched on a log. Blood stained her lips. Perfect, in every way.

My executioner. My kin.

Something wasn't right.

I moved my mouth but couldn't find an answer. I ached.

"You thirst" she said as she gestured at Henrick's body.

How did she know? Of course she knew. How could she not?

"Drink."

It was easy. Like taking a breath. Henrick was cold.

I could taste laughter, and the warmth.

My friend.

Something wasn't right.

I took a breath. Blinked. She was watching me.

"I am called Laberia. What is your name?"

I had a voice again.

"Fitzroy. But my friends call me Fitz."

She frowned at the bodies. She had a book in her lap, and a quill.

"Fitzroy. What were their names?"

I looked down at Henrick. I hoped he'd be okay.

"This is Henrick. That's Eydis. They're my friends."

She wrote that down.

"Tell me about them."

I thought about it. Something wasn't right.

"Eydis is an explorer. She would get us in trouble all the time. She wants to see every street in Suzail one day."

Her lip curled. She wrote it down. I hope I didn't annoy her.

"Henrick is my best friend. He's always kind. It makes it hard for him sometimes, when we run into bandits."

More writing. She looked at me. Smiled. I felt relieved.

"You honour your comrades. Tell me about you."

Something wasn't right.

I knew the answer. I think.

"I guess I like to meet new people. See how they live. What makes them laugh, you know? It's why I became a knight."

I looked down at Henrick again. I could smell the blood.

She wrote that down. I think she forgot to smile when she looked back.

"To which Gods did each of you give breath?"

I tried to laugh. But I couldn't.

"That's a funny way to ask."

She didn't smile.

"Uhm. Eydis is close to Cloakshadow. Henrick and I usually share our drinks with Garl."

More writing. Something wasn't right.

She reached back and picked something up. She threw it in front of me.

A shovel.

"I need you to dig. Three graves. Right next to each other."

I didn't think about it much. I started digging. It was easy.

Something wasn't right.

She'd know. Right? Right.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She had been staring at the sky. She looked back at me slowly.

"Wrong." She echoed the word.

I just nodded.

She frowned.

I tried to clarify.

"Wrong with me?"

Her frown deepened. I felt guilt.

"You're my spawn. It makes you loyal. Makes you want to help."

She paused.

"For now, anyway."

I kept digging. The answer didn't make me feel better.

"So we are friends?"

She didn't frown this time. She didn't look happy either.

"Nah. Can't be friends with your killer, Fitzroy. That loyalty you have will wither eventually."

Something wasn't right. I protested.

"Why not? You chose me, didn't you? That's why I'm here."

She closed the book and leant forward. She seemed agitated.

"I didn't choose you. I don't know why some of you return, and some do not. But you're dead. You have one Purpose left."

I wanted to stop digging. But I didn't.

"What's that?"

She gestured at Henrick and Eydis.

"To give them a dignified death."

That didn't make sense.

"I don't think drinking their blood was very dignified."

Her lip curled. She didn't like that.

"I know."

I tried to laugh again. Even though it wasn't funny.

I didn't know what to say.

So I kept digging.

Something wasn't right.

But I got them done. Three graves.

She was looking at the sky again.

“I’m finished.”

Slowly, her focus returned to the dirt.

“Bury them. Eydis and Henrick both.”

I hesitated.

“Will they come back too?”

She was looking at the sky again.

“No.”

That hurt.

“How do you know?”

She sounded tired.

“I just do.”

I guess she would know.

I buried Eydis first. She always went ahead.

Henrick was harder. Maybe he was heavier.

Something wasn’t right.

I turned to tell her I was finished.

She was standing now.

Looking at the dirt.

She put a hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t warm.

But she smiled.

So I knew.

It’d be alright.

“Your duty is done, Fitzroy.”

Something wasn’t right.

I looked down.

There was something in my chest.

A stake of wood.

Did she put it there?

I fell back. Into the ground.

I couldn’t speak.

I didn’t understand.

She had a blade.

Then.

Nothing.

[The Vandals of Rome]

Curse

The air of the crypt was stagnant. Lightless. Cold.

Candles waited, before a very old altar.

Laberia lit each slowly.

It was part of the process.

”This is the better world, whatever you might think.

At least you pay the price.

At least it wasn’t those you led to war.”

”Would you call them wooden men now, Laberia?”

The candles cast strange shadows on the walls of the crypt.

Ghosts of something that once lived.

“Do you think them being wooden soldiers was meant to mock, Maxine Majesta?

Wooden soldiers. Pushed around by things you can barely comprehend.

Promised.

It will offer you a better world.”

Maxine rattled her chains.

“…And you claim this… Is the better world?”

“For the choices you have made? Yes. This was Fated. You suffer and they survive.

I wish you had given up.

War can only cost you things.”

Laberia knelt at the altar.

The book was waiting.

Bound in dark leather and bitter deeds.

”You knew that I wouldn’t, Laberia. You knew that I would try again. I had to.

For your own sake.

I… Only regret that I was not successful. That you yet stand.”

“I know. I did try. I did try to change your Fate. I gave you permission to move on.

But you couldn’t. Nor could I refuse a challenge.

So we are here.

I feel as though I am trapped in history. It all happens again, over and over.”

The book was opened.

Each page had a date.

A faith.

A name.

”It only ends when one of us does, Laberia…

But you know I am one of these rare souls. One in a thousand. If you wanted me dead…

That is how I would be, by now.”

“Yes. I kept letting you go. Because it was only me, you threatened. But this community matters.

You know the lengths I will go to.

For my comrades.”

“Mmh… Maybe it’s only just a matter of time, then. What even… Is eternity if you spend it as a mindless terror, consumed with hunger and thirst?”

Some pages had more. Details of lives lived.

Most did not.

She hadn’t known them.

”I only have one way to grant you life, now, Maxine Majesta.

Before you are two choices.

One is death. You have nearly taken my comrades from me. I must stop playing dice with their lives.

The other…

You will take my blood, and live. In service.”

“You know who I am, Laberia… And what I stand for. Do you think Maxine Majesta would ever accept what you offer her?

No.

I have made my choice.

I choose liberty.

Do… What you’re going to do.”

She found a fresh page.

Ink and quill were set out.

”Maxine. Please. I am Laberia. I have fought for your freedom before. I fight now, for a Future.”

”I worship joy and freedom. I worship the Lady of Endless Revels. This place... Is so far removed from any of that. Far removed from anything resembling hope.”

“It is tonight.

But in centuries?

Can you imagine the world we could build, once the corrupt kingdoms of men are laid low?

You’ve /seen/ the rot.”

“You won’t have anything in its place. Only ruin. The rot can be expunged, but not by killing the patient.”

The words were hard to find.

She wrote what was familiar.

But knew there was more.

”Tonight I will do what I must, Maxine Majesta. As I did, millennia ago. I will end your life, if you refuse service. I cannot let you go, after what you have done to my Community.”

“I… Will do no such thing. It is against all I stand for. Do your duty, then… Executioner.

But know that you do so with a parting curse from my lips:

Your hunger will not sate, your thirst will not be quenched.

You will become everything you fear.

Everything.”

It took hours.

Long enough for the ghosts to grow restless.

Long enough for her hunger to remind Laberia.

Maxine’s Curse had not died with her.

On the 17th of Eliasias 183 AR Maxine Majesta died by my hand. She was a human woman devoted to Lliira. She was offered a choice. To take my blood and serve in life. Or to retain her freedom and die. She refused to kneel. She declared that liberty and joy were what she chose to live for, and that if she were to die, it would be by the hand of they that did not. I do not doubt she resides with Lliira now. She was sincere in her faith.

I have known Maxine almost as long as I have resided on this isle. She was a stage magician, risking her life in daring performances. When we met I told her that her acts drew humans in only because they longed to see others get hurt. She disagreed, insisting it was the possibility that drew people to her performances. The idea that even before overwhelming odds, joy can triumph. Of course, she also confessed she rigged the act. She made sure that she was never in true danger. That joy would always win out. Both of these sentiments defined Maxine. She believed in a better world, won by putting one’s thumb on the scales.

Maxine was born in Cormyr, but her parents would make for Amn seeking their fortune. Instead, they found misery and destitution. It was in Amn that Maxine learned the cruelty of tyranny, and how bitter unjust authority could be. She did not answer with compromise in turn. For as long as I knew Maxine Majesta, she chose to resist the wicked without compromising on the means. During my time in the Free Port of Guldorand Maxine was my ally, and dear friend. I saw her struggle for her community and choose what she believed in even when it was hard. I watched her falter too, at times, but always she got back up. She built the community there. She defended it, even when it cost her personally.

It was Maxine that discovered my nature. Who exposed me as a vampire. She swore that night she would grant me an ending. She believed it was her duty, as one who had called me friend, to release my soul from unlife. She would hunt me in the underdark. Risking her life to put an end to my existence. She would invent devices to destroy vampires and put her breath to her promise.

But this was not all she lived for. Maxine’s performances never faltered, nor did her labour for her community. She worked humbly to shelter and save residents of the Free Port of Guldorand as it was wracked by storms and flooding during the Weatherstone crisis. She laboured to heal the sick when Moander’s rot was spread in Guldorand. She loved Bradley Tanner as her husband and in her final hours, if she had any regrets, it was leaving him behind. She declared she would love him always, that she was sorry it was not meant to be, and that she would be waiting for him.

Maxine was captured after she orchestrated an ambush. She had invented a device, that focused the rays of the sun. She challenged me to meet her in the Court of Spires, assuring me no treachery. But Maxine Majesta rigged everything she could, for the cause of Good. She gathered swords, to ambush me. The burns the device left upon me do not heal, even as I write this obituary. I would surely have been unmade were it not for the intervention of Tharchion Myryn Blightscar, and Zhozzad. Though Maxine mustered twice our number, she fell. They that drew swords for her did not shy from their purpose, and our survival was won by inches.

But it was won, and it has cost the world a life. Last we captured Maxine Majesta, she was ransomed. I warned her then, that she would not survive the next time. I bid that she abandon me to unlife. That she need not go to war, for the promise she made to release my soul. But it was not in her nature to allow cruelty to exist. She would not compromise on her creed.

I took her life because I was afraid that one night soon, she would succeed in ending me.

She never once abandoned her creed.

Maxine asked that her remains be cremated and returned to her husband.

[The Vandals of Rome]

Expedition Log – P29
Year of the Maidens, 1361 DR | Commander: Captain Francis Trike

---

Tarsakh 9, 1361 DR — Early Morning
Captain Leopold Krull did not survive expedition P28. As such, I have been elevated to command of P29. His lordship Amarandaris has made it clear he expects better from me, even with our reduced resources. I do not intend to disappoint him. This will be the year I am promoted out of Parnast.
Under my command are three enforcers and one aspirant. Unremarkable men and women who I will lead to glory. I've triple checked our provisions and planned our route. We should arrive at The Bleak within the month.
— Captain Francis Trike

---

Tarsakh 12, 1361 DR
Aspirant Ervine has complained daily about the rations. Weak and ill-disciplined. If we didn't need her to pick out the magical artifacts I'd make an example of her. Enforcers Harding and Oster have been exemplary in their discipline. Enforcer Turner talks too much.

Tarsakh 15, 1361 DR
We were attacked by goblins today. Eight in total. Aspirant Ervine says they were singing in whatever their tongue is. An amusing way for them to meet their gods, I suppose. Enforcer Oster was cut across the leg. The wound is superficial. Yarrow balm will mend it enough overnight for us to press on. My subordinates are fortunate I led us out here well prepared.

Tarsakh 17, 1361 DR
Turner saw something while on watch last night. I think it's just nerves. Enforcers that talk too much betray a nervous disposition. Still, I make record of it. He claims he saw figures, the size of men, moving on the sands. He says they were dancing. I inspected the area he claims he saw them and found no signs of disturbance.

Tarsakh 20, 1361 DR
We're deep enough in the wastes that there's nothing much living around. Enforcer Harding saw a vulture. I forbade him from shooting it. I don't care if they're all tired of trail bread. Arrows are an expense. Don't they understand how well I planned this expedition? Turner's been mercifully quiet for days now.

Tarsakh 22, 1361 DR
Ervine complained to me today that Enforcer Turner has been singing while on night watch. I didn't hear anything. It was probably the wind. Sometimes it does sound like music out here.

Tarsakh 23, 1361 DR
Turner's missing. Oster was never woken up for his shift, so it must have happened in the night. No signs of attack. No signs of anything. None of our supplies were taken, so I doubt Turner deserted. We wasted a few hours of travel time searching the area.

Tarsakh 25, 1361 DR
Still no sign of Turner. The winds in this region make strange sounds. My subordinates complain often of it. I will not look weak, but they are not wrong. I've ordered the expedition to keep wax in their ears.

Tarsakh 27, 1361 DR
We found Turner. I heard him before I saw him. He was singing. I think I knew the words, but I can't recall them now. He was out in the wastes, drifting past our camp. Singing, dancing, feet bloodied and bare. Oster was able to detain him. He was hung for dereliction of duty.

---

Mirtul 1, 1361 DR
We arrived at the Bleak today. A long buried site from ancient Netheril that his lordship Amarandaris suspects has yet to be picked over by looters. Everyone is quiet today.

Mirtul 3, 1361 DR
We breached the wall. This place is untouched. But I can already see why. It's a tomb filled with lists. Jergalites. Ervine's translating scrolls but says they’re likely just names of the dead.

Mirtul 5, 1361 DR
We found a sarcophagus. Necromantic magic. Warnings etched into it. Ervine wants to study it before we force it open.

Mirtul 6, 1361 DR
Ervine opened the sarcophagus. A corpse inside with a silver stake in the chest. A vampire. Not dead—dead. I've forbidden tampering. Ervine disagrees. I may consider transporting it.

Mirtul 8, 1361 DR
Oster and Harding were nearly caught in a collapse. Oster was burned. No more yarrow balm. Ervine believes the explosion was a trap. Good. That means something valuable is still here.

Mirtul 11, 1361 DR
Still nothing but scrolls and bones. We try to rouse the vampire tomorrow at noon. I’m sure the four of us can handle it.

---

Addendum — Obituaries of the P29 Expedition
The Bleak, Mirtul 14, 1361 DR

Safira Ervine
Age unknown.
Dedication unknown.
Died of exsanguination while looting a House of the Reaper.

Francis Trike
Thirty-sixth year of life.
Dedicated to Bane.
Executed for looting a House of the Reaper.

Ulvin Oster
Refused to name age.
Refused to name dedication.
Executed for looting a House of the Reaper.

Syril Harding
Twenty-first year of life.
Claimed dedication to the Reaper. Dubious.
Executed for looting a House of the Reaper.