Medievia Mudslinger
May 17, 1999

A Night in Thalos - By Mattrim

The winds of the sandstorm sent dunes of sand through the air. The wind and sand made it nearly impossible to see anything beyond 10 feet to any degree and the howling sound made it impossible to hear anything.

Terrin Jerkon walked through the storm. The sand pelted every inch of his body, and his heavy armor did little to help. The vague Presence of the moon did little to assure him of the time. His body sweated heavily and his mouth hung dry. His equipment was filled with sand, and the box that he pulled behind him moved ever so slowly through the sand. His head hurt and his eyes stung. He knew that the box had to be delivered, but he didn't think he could make it. His quest was vital for Trellor, but he doubted himself. If he failed many lives would be at stake.

The City of Trellor had been under a series of serious riots that had devastated the City. It took all of the City watch to keep the city a peace but their supplies were dwindling and they were in need of a large shipment of supplies. Terrin was a courier for the Medievia mudslinger and was to bring these papers as fast as he could to Medievia.

Terrin had been on his way to the City of Medievia on a Dragon when a terrible sandstorm had caused him and the Dragon to come crashing down. The Dragon had died on impact, and the sand buried him in moments. Terrin had been able to walk for a day or so, but he still hadn't been able to reach Medievia.

*Damn dragon, why the hell did it think it could fly through the storm* His mind raced with thoughts, but he continued to curse the Dragon.

And then he saw it, a foreboding city atop a plateau. *Thalos* was all he could think. A sense of ecstasy ran through his body as hope filled him. The city walls could protect him from the storm, and then in the morning, when the storm passed, he could ride a dragon back to Medievia.

His body jolted wit pain as he ran, pulling the box, to the eastern entrance to the lost city. It took him a few minutes to reach the city but when he did, he immediately slumped to the ground. He tried to climb up, but his strength was gone, his stamina came to an end. Slowly his mind blacked out as the sand buried him and the box.

Terrin felt a warmness flow through his body. His eyes opened and he stared at a young cleric.

"The box…" was all he could say before the cleric motioned him to be quiet. He looked around and saw that he was on one of the watchtowers of Thalos. He saw his box and breathed a sigh of relief.

The cleric motioned for him to remain silent; he raised his hand, and called down a column of flame into the shadows. The flames illuminated the tower, and illuminated a stone golem in the corner and a figure in the shadows. The figure screamed as the flames burned its body and them fell off the tower. "Lamia"

Terrin nodded and smiled "thanx."

"Give me an hour and I'll be able to transport us back to med. Ok?"

Terrin nodded. "Who are you, and what are you doing in Thalos during such a storm?"

The cleric laughed "I should ask you the same, but I can assume you were delivering that box. My name is Mattrim, I'm a simple cleric and I came here…" he motioned towards the city "to gain experience as a cleric."

"My gratitude to you Mattrim."

"Rest, the storm weakened you greatly." He pointed to a small bag and spoke softly "there's some food and water in their, help your self." He leaned back and wen to sleep.

Terrin helped himself to some food and then went to see if the box was damaged. And then he saw it, a small opening in the box. Had he not know better he would've thought it the storm, but he could tell that the box had been pried open. He looked at Mattrim and growled. "You opened it! This is mine!"

Mattrim Laughed with his eyes closed and said "hold your tongue boy, I'm taking a nap. Don't worry only I know of the box, and it's going to make me rich. You'll get to the City safe and sound, but the box won't. A man can make a fortune selling weapons to Trellor… and if only the Warlords know of this then we'll be the ones to become rich."

Terrin pulled a dagger and sword out his cloak and held them at Mattrim's throat. "If you value your life, you'll make sure you don't leave my sight. I'm not letting some greedy fool risk lives. You can make your fortune but your not going to hoard the information so that a choice few can get rich while a city suffers"

"You have no choice." Terrin kicked him in the face raised his blade to slash Mattrim in the neck when a powerful charge from Mattrim sent him sprawling. "A shame." He raised his hand and prepared to call a bolt of lightning at the box. Terrin jumped in front of the bolt and fell back; he threw a dagger that hit Mattrim in his right shoulder. "BASTARD! I offered you your life for that box! It matters not, I will still be rich, and you won't make it to the city in this storm. And if the storm doesn't get you… the city will." Mattrim chanted a few words and began to disappear. His laughter echoed through the air as he vanished.

Terrin staggered up and groaned. He slowly gave out a moan and forced himself some rest. Weakened and battered he fell asleep.

If the Lamia hadn't tripped, Terrin would have died. He managed to stab the Lamia as it tried to stand. And then the other two Lamias attacked. He managed to parry their first attacks, but before they fell he took a few nasty slashes in his arm. The loss of blood and weakness from the lightning bolt forced him to collapse.

Terrin prayed that he could live, he needed to live this night. The day would bring him some luck, only if he could survive.

Then the shadows closed in on him. He staggered forward swinging his blade widely, hoping that he could drive the beasts away. Three lamias charged viciously and his location. Atop the tower he had little room to maneuver and in his weakened state he staggered perilously close to falling off. The lamias began to flank him, cutting him off from protecting the box, and forcing him into a corner of the tower.

In a last-ditch effort he charged blindly, tackling the lamias and forcing them off the tower. The four bodies collided with the floor below; Terrin luckily had the Lamias to break his fall. One of the lamias was clearly dead, and the other two staggered backwards with broken limbs. As the lamias fled he spotted a nice chest in the corner and rested on it for a moment. As he began to relax himself on the chest he found himself thrown to the floor. A mimic came charging at him throwing him across the street. Battered to badly to mount an offensive strike, Terrin managed to defend himself with his blade and forced his opponent back. The mimic in a foolhardy rush walked right into Terrin's blade and fell to the floor. He staggered back to the box.


Throughout the night he fought off numerous Lamia attacks and was wounded badly, but he managed to hold his ground. Then as the storm calmed down he saw the sun rise from the east. *I did it* he waited out the storm for another hour, and when he was sure it was safe to fly he made his way out of the city. He ran as fast as he could, dragging the box, joy filled him as realized he had survived a night in Thalos.

As he reached the eastern entrance, he never saw the Lamia that stabbed him in the back. He collapsed, and the box landed outside the city. He crawled down upon the box. The winds of the storm buried him slightly, and he slowly blackened towards death. *At least I lived through the night* His body lived, but he entered a deep coma.


The young adventurers thanked Envia for taking them to Thalos, and for the supply of green potions. And just as Envia was about to leave a Lamia killed one of the adventurers. The others screamed and dragged their fallen comrade towards the Entrance. Another 3 Lamia's ambushed them, and killed another. The managed to drag their dead comrades out of the city and then stumbled over a corpse in the sand. The adventurers screamed at the sight of the corpse and many of them fainted.

Envia sighed as she phased towards them. "Calm your selves." She resurrected the fallen adventurers, and then walked over to the corpse. "No what have we here?" She felt the pulse on the corpse and groaned, "just died."

"Will you save him Envia?" said on of the adventures.

"I don't know if I should resurrect a fool who would travel to Thalos in a sandstorm." She responded. Then as she moved the corpse she saw the chest, and upon it she saw the symbol of Medievia. "A brave fool. With a righteous cause." She held her hands at the corpse and the goddess returned the soul to the body.

Terrin jerked up and breathed in deeply. His pain vanished as two hands touched his back. He turned around and smiled. "Thank you Envia."

The goddess laughed. "So Terrin I take it you went a little of course with your mission?"

"A little and I'll be late if I don't get moving now."

"I can help you with that." The goddess laughed and Terrin watched her and the land fade from sight. The city of Medievia faded in and he found himself in the altar to the gods.

He laughed as saw the box n the ground next to him. He spotted a scribe down the street and ran towards him

"Soliel wondered what happened to you."

"At least I got here."

The scribe took the box and shouted "Get your, hot off the presses Medievia mud slinger!"

"There's been a catastrophe in Trellor, Riots have force the need for immediate supplies."

The scribe nodded at Terrin and shouted "Extra! Extra! Catastrophe in Trellor! Riots for need for supplies! Prices at an all time high!" A horde of people surrounded the scribe and began to shower him with gold. Terrin backed off into the shadows.

And then he saw him, a figure with a covered wagon, Mattrim. Terrin stole a horse and galloped after him. "I take you already made a trip to Trellor? A tad slow though, I figured you would've made 3 or four by the time I made it here."

"I made two actually, but had trouble with the guards. Shipping opium has its costs. But the warlords are securing trade routes near Trellor. I'll make a killing. So you managed to live? A pity." He pointed to his pouch and laughed, "You've made me rich boy. Had you some manners I would've let you have a cut."

"And attacking City officers does as well. And threatening lives of a City as well." Terrin swung his blade; just as a Medievia guardsmen stepped out from the shadows and stopped him. The knocked his blade away and tackled Mattrim.

"Mattrim Cauthon, a.k.a. the Warlord, Dragon Reborn, you are hereby charged with attacking Medievian officers and smuggling drugs." They cuffed Mattrim and walked him into the shadows.

One of the guards turned to Terrin and smiled. "Good work boy, you saved a lot of lives."

As it turned out because of Terrin goods were sent to Trellor to help protect it from the riot. The warlords who had been established in the trade routes found themselves at a miserable situation when rains forced flash flooding into the area. As it turned out the rush of goods helped not only calm down riots, but also from flood damages.


Terrin would remember his night in Thalos, and his brush with death. Since then he would visit and spend a night in Thalos ever year. It became a tradition, and it was on one such visit, 20 years later, that he would survive his last night in Thalos, but not the day. Its said that his spirit now guides lost warriors through the city to safety, and since then there has never been such a terrible sandstorm in Thalos.


As for Mattrim, he would eventually make bail, but he suffered some harsh words from the warlords and from the gods themselves. To this day he must now spend a day in Trellor in-forcing the Peace. He also had to go to a drug rehab program and vow never to trade in illicit goods.