A Very Karrnathi Khybersef
‘Twas the night before Khybersef, when all through the castles,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the four Emerald Claw spies, three Trust agents, two Dark Lanterns, five Eyes of Aundair, one Thuranni assassin, a Phiarlan string quartet, and forty six Karrnathi undead secretly buried outside in the garden during the war, long in capsules.
The caltrops were lain by the chimney with care,
Should some smart-aleck spy try a move unfair.
King Kaius sat in his throne, awake through the night.
While visions of what he’d done would not leave his sight.
Moranna paced in her room, Conqueror going unplayed.
A disloyal warlord in the dungeon waited to be flayed.
When out in the streets there arose such a rattle,
Kaius shouted for his guards, and readied for battle.
To his inner sanctum the King did run and draw his knife,
Soulthief and its twelve brethren glittered with unholy life.
At the gates and on the walls the racket continues,
Bringing bitter memories of war and torn sinews.
When what by the Host should appear in this darkest night?
One human form and nine skeletal horses, aloft in flight
With a manically laughing fiend wielding the reins,
The king’s legions all fell to their ramparts in pains.
Kaius saw all of this from a magic spyhole,
And he knew at once this creature so awful.
Dungeoneering check made with DC to spare,
He ordered his rotwings to take to the air.
For at last the red lich of Illmarrow had come to Korth,
The consort of Lady Vol, to take the city for all it was worth.
As before the Dragonhawks of the Knights Arcane,
The fliers of ancient Karrnath were cut in twain.
Red necrosis and violet lightning crackled in the sky,
And again Crownhome knew the horror causing sons to die.
Kaius called to his host of casters and shouted for spells by name,
On Mordenkainen! On Tenser! On Mage Armor and Unholy Flame!
Yet as if it was a third edition iron golem, twas all in vain,
Spells and arrows passed over Zombie Klaus like drops of rain!
The Crimson King of Winter’s Fury punched through the walls,
While the Conqueror’s Host shouted glory about the halls!
For naught, were their lives, histories, and veteran records spent,
Residuum and men’s blood decked the castle causing servants to repent.
Klaus stood before Kaius, the first and the last of his line,
Their gazes finally met, the king believed he would dine.
Such a fury and rancor did ring out, horrifying me,
No battle as this was seen since Episode Three.
And finally across the towers and bridges the duel did end,
With the king down, no encounter powers left to spend.
Great Zombie Klaus then reached deep into his cloak,
He leaned in close to the King, and this is what he spoke.
“We both are bloodied, swords notched, and down to our last,
Alas I am no true lich and any hope of regeneration has past.”
“You my dear king are the only hope of Khorvaire for peace,
At least you’re trying, unlike that frigid blonde beast.”
“I have a gift for you.” He said. And the King’s sword paused.
Klaus quickly added, “It ain’t the answers to Lost.”
He drew not a glaive, but a shiny red box,
“This is Vol’s Phylactery! Now end this pox!”
The King held it over the walls as Korth burned beneath,
Then he drew it close to him and sank in his teeth.
Memories of a wife long lost flooded his sense of taste,
His victory over the Order now required no haste.
Rather than quickly destroy it and free the world of her disease,
Kaius would hold it in trust, to wait for a group of worthy PCs.
He was a monster, a sidebar, a skirmisher in a book.
The death of the Queen belonged not to a king but a rook.
Leaping from the parapet Klaus took to his sleigh,
Waving his greatsword, he began to bray.
“Merry Khybersef to all, in brightest day, in blackest night...”
“May the forces of evil guide your blades against all that is right!”
See you soon with "How the Lich Stole Khybersef"