I strolled past the Mint of Vesper this evening to
see what all the commotion was about. The town crier was spouting out
some of the recent news : apparently a farmer from Skara Brae had found
his wheat crop rotting in the early morning. Undead creatures, giant serpents
and giant spiders were coming through what appeared to be a magic passage
in the middle of the field.
I quickly looked for my rune to Skara Brae and chanted “Kal Ort Por”.
As I arrived at the farm, I began to see the horror of which the criers
spoke. Though we were outnumbered six to one, we began to push back the
onslaught. As the hour began to draw late, dread spiders and giant black
widows began to pour through this magical passage.
A gathering of warriors and mages caught my attention, and as I walked
over to them it appeared the owner of the farm, a simple man by the name
of Fremont, was discussing with another man, Patterson, who seemed to
be an alchemist. They were discussing the odd formation that the rotting
sheaves of wheat made. As Patterson walked close to the center of the
field in order to examine the odd magicks at work, he was struck with
a heavy dose of poison and died instantly.
I noticed Fremont was most stressed from the events occurring on his farm,
and though some of our number tried to placate him, t’was to no avail.
Fremont took off sobbing as he saw Patterson’s corpse. A few men followed,
but could not keep up with his pace. As I looked around I saw a rather
odd dragon flying in from the north - it looked much younger than the
dragons I have seen in Destard. However when I ran towards it, what was
there was no more.
“Perhaps t’was my mind playing tricks on me.” I thought, and returned
to Vesper so I could write down what had transpired. As I write this,
the rotten wheat still grows in Patterson’s farm, and the vile magicks
are still at work. What could all this mean? Only time will tell.
From the Town Cryer - The Journal of Ultima Online, Monday, April