Plague Knights

The following is an excerpt from the compendium Plague Knights of Magnus Placarus, Accounts of their Crimes and Rituals of Horror by Tomas Rhein.

Forward

It is only fitting that I begin this dark tome with the last written words of my husband, Duncan Fischer, sent while on a research expedition in the remote northern region of Aul Kirn.

Duncan had gone to Aul Kirn at the behest of his guild of cartography, in order to survey and report back on a region shrouded in cautionary myths and rumor. He would never return and there have been no signs since. I loved him, let this book be in memoriam of his dedication to shining light on some of the darkest corners of our world.

My dear Tomas,

I’m running short on time and my sanity. I am being hunted by the very deamons I was assured did not, or no longer, exist. It's true, I found the mountain fortress of the Magnus Placarus, the mangled and horrific plague knights of the north, I have witnessed firsthand their numbers and ritual.

I will compose this letter and send it with haste on the back of my fox Solis who knows the way home. Find also this book, taken from the fortress undercroft, the Libarum Bligatium, a book of ritual and record.

While traveling north along the Oyxial River, I came across an ancient castle fortress high on a clifftop. At first, I believed the fortress to be ruins, such was the state of disrepair. As I came closer, I began to see movement along the parapets. I know well enough to not let my presence known in these remote regions unless I’m certain of safe passage. I found myself a shrouded perch from which to observe within the castle walls with my spyglass, I would stay in this spot for 3 days.

The first day I only observed the guards along the wall. They wore armament of a past age, weathered with time and use. Their faces were pale and devoid of all warmth. Each had signs of disease, bloated flesh or pox marks. Their arms and legs were exaggerated in size which gave the appearance of vicious strength. I watched them all day as they simply drifted along the walls like foul spirits bound to haunt this crumbling ruin.

I was awoken the second day by the arrival of a barge at dawn, mooring at the foot of the cliffs. 7 men of fighting age were pulled from its bowels. Each was stripped of clothing, bruised and chained in black iron. Foot soldiers dragged them to a fortified entranced hidden in the cliffside.

After the men were taken inside there was much movement in the castle courtyard. Instead of just simple soldiers I now saw what looked like religious acolytes. They scurried about the castle dressed in maroon robes of ritual with their faces hidden beneath pointed hoods. I saw them moving gilded decanters, relics and large tomes from the lower reaches of the castle into what looked like a ceremony hall.

Night fell and with it came the screams of those men. I have served in the army, Ive heard the wails of pain and despair, so please understand that these screams were unlike any I have witnessed. I still hear them, the sound as if their very souls were ripped from their bodies. Gods help me Tomas, I still hear them.

Eventually the lights of the ceremony hall were snuffed and I could not sense movement within. It must have been around midnight when two bodies were thrown from the castle walls to the river below. The first was quickly taken by the current but the second was lodged between stones. You know me Tomas, I can never leave well enough alone.

I made my way through the dark to the river below to observe the body by moonlight. His body was bare of clothing but covered by marks of a blade, some of which seemed to resemble runes. His face and tongue were swollen with early signs of pox. His abdomen was bloated, as if something inside him had burst. I recognize now the runes on his body as those on the first page of the book enclosed with this letter. I quickly retreated to my perch knowing that sleep would not come and so waited for the dawn.

The final day. The remaining 5 prisoners were suspended in an iron cage above the castle courtyard. In the cold they each convulsed, shivered and vomited as acolytes danced below, throwing handfuls of lime powder into the air with ritualistic motions. Occasionally the men would shout or wail but it was clear their spirits were broken.

By mid-day the men lay motionless in their cages, but not dead. The ceremony hall doors opened and a pair of plated knights emerged. They stood in contrast to all others, wearing shining silver plate armor from head to foot. Their helmets were smithed into the likeness of beautiful youths, crowned with golden wreaths. They would have been resplendent had it not been for the black and yellow bile secreting from the eye and mouth slits of their full helms.

The cages were pulled down and the poor souls were placed at the feet of the silver commanders. Words were spoken, 4 of the men took a knee, 1 did not. Those who knelt were taken away while acolytes opened a large set of doors on the opposite end of the yard. What emerged I still struggle to comprehend. Perhaps it was once a man, but now a horror. It stood almost 4 meters in height and wore only a ragged cloth around its mid. It was human form constructed from mounds of callused and blistering flesh, some of which hung off like strips of wallpaper. Its single arm was enormous, dragging behind it a rune etched sword the size of a man.

The dissenter was placed before the monster and in an instant was rent in half, like wheat in a field. His remains were gathered and placed inside a golden reliquary vessel, leaving only a crescent of claret where the brave man’s defiance had been. It was in that moment I realized how frozen with fear I had been. I had not moved or eaten and if I had any hope to bringing news of what I had seen then I had to make haste.

I worried in that moment that my word alone would not be sufficient for those in the Capital, and so after midnight, I scaled the cliff side to a small opening of the castle’s undercroft. I found a black library, cold and decaying. I did not believe anyone to be within, but after taking hold of the Libarum Bligatium on a small table, I heard a piercing scream. In the corner was a mangled body wearing bandages and ornate robes, armless and legless. From within its pus covered face a single eye had spotted me and it began to sound a hellish alarm. I made my escape.

I have been running for 4 days since. My body is weak and my mind under duress. Always on my trail is a group of their soldiers leading a pack of hound-like creatures with beak and claw. They may have lost my trail, hence this moment to write, but I have thought that before only to hear the other worldly shrieks of their monsters.

Take this account and the enclosed book, take it to Sergeant Kelly of the Princes expeditionary forces, she is of sound mind and judgement. Let them know what I have seen. Let them know those tales of monstrous plague knights of the north, of towns butchered and kidnappings, they're all true. Foul deamons reside here and must be stopped lest other innocents are taken.

I am sorry Tomas, sorry that my duty may mean I can never hold you again. I will do everything I can to return to you but know this, I will not be taken, I will not be pressed into the service of those devils. My body and soul are yours, in this world or the next.

With all my love,

Duncan