UNKNOWN PEASANT

In the final days before the collapse of the First Age of Magic in 966 GUE, the Enchanters knew of the impending calamity. But they had a plan to ensure that their vast and ancient knowledge was not lost through the erosion of time. The sorceress Y’Gael suggested using the Coconut of Quendor as a container in which to preserve all of the knowledge of magic for a later age, beyond the Age of Science.

As the fabric of magic was unraveling, they dared not rely on its protection. Another champion had to have been sought, an innocent unskilled in the lore of enchantment, who could not know the price of failure or recognize the face of death. They selected an anoynomous peasant with the dangerous task of regaining and then hiding the transcendent Coconut of Quendor. The simple peasant knew better than to get involved in the affairs of wizards, but everyone encountered seemed intent on testing the human’s abilities to the utmost. The peasant was drawn into a web of fantasy and magic, solving puzzles, seeking treasures, and fighting monsters. With an arsenal of new weapons and abilities at the disposal (which were cleverly provided by Y’Gael who had taken it upon herself to become proprietor of several shops across the Southland of Quendor), the human’s strength and power grew with every encounter.

This quest led the peasant to ascend into the Ethereal Plane of Atrii, were a group of Implementors were seated around a food-laden table, playing catch with the Coconut of Quendor, playing catch with the Coconut of Quendor. While trying to catch it, Implementor Brian Morarty plowed directly into the peasant and fumbled the magical relic. As the Implementor reached towards the Coconut, a vortex of laughing darkness boiled up from underfoot. This was the ur-grue. The Coconut fell into the eyes of the fortex and disappeared along with a stack of lunch meat and bits of cutlery from the Implementors' table. The Implementors appointed this peasant to recovery the Coconut from the clutches of the evil ur-grue.

This quest involved a descent into the Jungles of Miznia, where the Crocodile’s Tear was successfully stolen from its resting place within the bowels of a mighty crocodile statue where it had been placed by the evil sorceress Y’Syska. This idol, was the size of a subway train, not counting the limbs and tail. Its maw hung wide open with the lower jaw touching the ground to form an inclined walkway lined with rows of stone teeth. The stone jaw, when stood upon, lurched like one standing on a seesaw. Anyone wishing to steal Y’Syska’s jewel would have to climb the idol without sliding into its mouth, and becoming trapped.

The theft of this jewel was accomplished when the peasant lured a mother hungus to stand at one end of the jaw. The weighty hungus was easily able to keep the far end of the seesaw raised high while the light-weight peasant reached up to grab the tear. The jewel popped off the idol’s face, slipped from the hero’s grasp and rolled down to the mother hungus’ feet, where she promptly ate it, turned and lumbered off the jaw. The seesaw titled, pitching the peasant helplessly forward into the idol. The interior long, low chamber of the idol was shaped much like the gizzard of a crocodile, with no non-magical method of escape. Fortunately this adventurer was able to get free, and hunted down the mother hungus. Using a cane of eversion, the hungus found herself turned inside out, the effect lasting but long enough for the undigested contents of the mother hungus’ stomach to fall to the ground. The peasant again had possession of the Crocodile’s Tear.

That same adventurer sold the recovered jewel to one of three shops staffed by Y’Gael for zm1000 enabling the purchase of the Phee Hourglass which she had somehow managed to obtain. This humble peasant-turned-adventurer discovered that with the Hourglass being turned over at a certain plaza in the ruins of Pheebor, one could travel in time, back to the days of the founding of city, and forward to the Final Conflagration. The effect was temporary, and the subject would only remain in the displaced era while the sand was falling.

The peasant harnessed this temporal travel in a massive plot to recover the legendary Pheehelm. Returning to the days of the sacking of Pheebor in 396 BE, the adventurer watched as Prince Foo was slain. His helmet, along with his severed head fell into one of the many battle trenches. In order to claim the Pheehelm, the unknown human tossed a chocolate truffle (which had been bathed in the Pool of Eternal Youth) into the trench, then temporal traveled to the time of the Final Conflagration (c. 3690 GUE) when the ground was soft enough for his pet minx to dig up the relic. Wearers of the Pheehelm are granted the wisdom of kings, and the power to see the unseeable, including the ability to sense the movements of grues telepathically without seeing them. The relic would be donned by this peasant, who after returning to 966, would use it to slay hordes of grues beneath the Mithicus Mountains.

Before entering these forbidden tunnels, the unknown peasant unwittingly removed Orkan of Thriff’s YONKed GIRGOL spell from upon the volcano nearby Thriff. The released spillage of magma consumed not only much of the Christmas tree monster horde that threatened to descend upon the village, but also the Glyphs of Warding. The pine-scented survivors planned to continue their delayed migration into Thriff once the lava had cooled, but that same peasant inscribed a fresh glyph into the cooling magma, thus forever barring their advance. Cardinal Toolbox recognized this peasant as “the Savior foretold in our eldest legends.” He promised anything for the reward of fulfilling the prophecy.

Much to the Cardinal’s reluctance, the peasant asked for his sacred reliquary, which contained a white hemisphere—half of a scrystone that was needed to gain entrance to the Ur-Grue’s lair beneath the Mithicus Mountains. The other half, a black portion, had been previously discovered in Orkan’s cabin (which had been destroyed by the lava flow). When the two hemispheres were fit together, a gray scrystone was magically fashioned. Deep within the crystal, its swirling depths coalesced into the image of a warlock, standing before a seamless wall of stone. He muttered a secret word and a doorlike outline appeared which he pushed open. The vision faded as he stepped inside.

Discovering this outline at the base of the Mithicus Mountains, the peasant spoke the word and the door opened. Upon entering, a bolt of lightning zigzagged down the passageways, struck the human’s lantern and blew it into little, tiny bits. Without a source of light, the peasant constructed an elaborate series of magical bubble-mirrors, which when angled properly, directed the sunlight to pour through the dank passageways. Donning the Pheehelm, this hero fought through ranks of grues and lucksuckers and came upon an underground treasure chamber.

Here the plunder of many kingdoms lay in a vast, sparkling mound of the type often employed by dragons as a mattress. (A rapid survey turned up at least 69,105 treasures.)  Luckily, there were no dragons to be seen; but the southeast corner of the chamber was obscured by a curious shadow.

What follows is an excerpt from the peasant's own journal, describing the final confrontation:

As I glanced around the chamber, the shadow yawned and stretched. “At least we meet.” The shadow’s chuckling subsided. “I rarely get visitors,” it admitted in a wistful tone. “A pity I have to destroy you. An interesting question,” continues the shadow conversationally, “is how to destroy you. Not a trivial decision, no. I must select a spell that will enhance my image, a magic worthy of my thoroughly evil reputation.”

The shadow muttered thoughtfully to itself. “Let’s see, now. A spell. CLEESH? No; too silly. ESPNIS? Hmm. Better not; he/she might snore. I know!” cried the shadow with delight. “GIRGOL, the Time Stop spell! Love it. You’ll make a hilarious statue.”

At that moment I rotated the bubble mirror. The beam of sunlight reflected directly into the core of the shadow! The thing within stood revealed to me for one brief instant. Then my sanity was spared by a blinding flash and concussion that threw me hard against the far wall... The sound of sobbing jolted me to my senses.

In the corner lay a feeble old man, bent with grief. His robes were tattered, his white hair scorched by flame. I slowly rose and drew closer, bending low to touch his shoulder. With a snap, ten bony fingers clamped around my throat!

“I can always count on fools like you for sympathy,” chuckled the not-so-feeble old man as he held my windpipe shut. “Still, though your mind is weak, your body is young and strong. It will make a suitable vessel until I can find another grue.” He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and directed my eyes into his own. “Relax. This won’t hurt a bit.”

My fear turned to resentment, then to rage as the old man violated my mind, absorbing my compassion like a sponge as he fought to take possession of your soul. But my soul was too flooded with an overabundance of compassion.

“Enough!”

The fingers on my neck dropped away, leaving me gasping but alive. I stumbled backwards to find the old man leaning against the wall, breathing hard, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Enough,” he cried again, gesturing towards the exit. “Take what you want and leave this place! I cannot bring myself to murder one so virtuous. Go!” His voice was bitter with despair. “Leave me to wallow in compassion.” With these last words, the broken man faded into nothingness.

 
The peasant reached into the treasure trove to lift the coconut off the floor. Not only did an angelic choir swell, but the ground underfoot trembled for a moment. Another tremor wracked the earth, and a deep, ominous rumbled began to swell about. The rumble grew to a roar as a mighty zorkquake rocked the caverns to their very roots. The ground heaved sharply to the right, and bits of broken rock showered down on the peasant’s head. A devastating ground shock sent the human sprawling! The roof of the cavern gave way at the same moment, and tons of granite crumbled all around…

Unknown to historians, the peasant was miraculously saved and brought back to Grubbo-by-the-Sea. Y'Gael handed the peasnt a golden wand. With a wave, the painting shimmered with magic as the wand’s rays played across its surface. The skillful strokes and flourishes became one with the sea and sky, artfully blending with the surroundings until it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. There was now a magnificent galleon before them.

Thus the old sailor, Captain Zahab; the Enchantress, Y’Gael; Cardinal Toolbox; Grote Clutchcake; Sneffle the Baker, and the heroic ex-peasant sailed off into the sky with the Coconut of Quendor, which was to be taken to an unknown destination to be kept safe until magic could be returned. For bound in a powerful incantation by the enchanter Y’Gael, the Coconut was the spellbound keeper of a desperate purpose—the preservation of all knowledge of High Magic ever known to the Empire. Whoever had the Coconut in their protection was fulfilling a magical destiny, and could not be harmed. This destiny would culminate in the year 1067.

Unfortunately, in 967 The ship carrying the Coconut of Quendor met a terrible fate when it was swallowed by the great flying Watchdragon. Although at least Captain Zahab escaped alive, records remain regarding the fate of two other members of the crew, Sneffle and Y’Gael. Sneffle would make the Watchdragon his place of residency for a time, but Y’Gael’s departure is shrouded in mystery. It is here that this peasant fades out of the history books, possibly through death.


TRIVIA:
There was little known about this human's life prior to the quest, save that the peasant's aunt used to make fish cakes and that weeds reminded the peasant of its own garden back home.