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* Available at the Sundren City library, one can flip through the Biography of Abbot Orlan Proskus and learn much about the Helmite. Several chapters have seen more attention than others. *
BIOGRAPHY: ABBOT ORLAN PROSKUS
By Neddlewort Needlestackes, II.
By Neddlewort Needlestackes, II.
Chapter 8.
A young Orlan Proskus took the hill with a number of his holy brethren in a full, breathless sprint.
Helm's Vigilant Defenders, faithful paladins and battle clerics from the Western Heartlands, had answered a call to aid several small towns suffering from the tyranny of a faction called the Black Advance. The Black Advance were a merciless and corrupting band of Banites led by two twin sibblings, Ditus and Mestra Ill'Koresh, who were known for leaving a wake of disaster as they spread the Dark Lord's influence throughout Faerun. It had taken months, but the Helmites finally caught good fortune and intercepted the Black Advance before they were able to return to Castle Darkhold to resupply. Unable to reach their Zhentarim allies, the Black Advance had retreated North to the Sunset mountains.
Orlan's legs and arms ached from fatigue; his heart pounded with intensity. Behind him, a legion of His finest charged up a rocky landscape to put an end to the Black Advance. It would end here, he knew.
They had not been without loses to this point, but the Vigilant Defenders had fared much better than the Black Advance. The initial confrontation had been in Helm's favor, with dozens of the Black Advance dead or dying after early battles. And while the Helmites would stop to mend a wound or broken bone caused by someone slipping in the harsh, uneven terrain, the Ill'Koresh would cut down any who slowed their egress. Their numbers had dwindled to just over thirty.
But that day, the Black Advance were not without luck, for they had stumbled upon an old, abandoned keep in their retreat and found it suitable for a stand. The Helmites surrounded the ancient keep and took to waiting, ever patient and vigilant as their lord's tenets dictated, strategizing they could starve out the Black Advance within a week.
It was ironic that the harbingers of fear would find themselves in a situation where fear consumed them, for the Black Advance did not know if the Helmites would attempt to seige their walls or if they would starve to death while waiting. Despite their leader Ditus' demand they remain composed, order quickly broke down as hunger and hysteria gripped them. After agonizing days, with no food or reinforcements available, Mestra ordered her underlings to rush the Helmites and sacrifice themselves so the two sibblings could escape. Her order was met with disent, and betrayal.
Without their leaders, the Black Advance surrendered within the day and were taken into custody.
The Helmite forces found the corpses of Ditus and Mestra Ill'Koresh within the ancient keep, an empty, soulless look in their matching dead eyes and thirty-three seperate swords from their bretrayers driven deep into their bodies. More than one Paladin commented on the gruesome scene. The remnants of the Black Advance were put to death in various courts, towns, and arenas as they were forced to answer for their crimes. No man among them escaped justice, for every one of them was guilty of one dark act or another.
Still, Orlan could not leave that bloody hill without a sense of unease, despite the resolution in the deaths of the Ill'Koresh and the capture of the Black Advance. Deep within him he knew something was amiss.
A young Orlan Proskus took the hill with a number of his holy brethren in a full, breathless sprint.
Helm's Vigilant Defenders, faithful paladins and battle clerics from the Western Heartlands, had answered a call to aid several small towns suffering from the tyranny of a faction called the Black Advance. The Black Advance were a merciless and corrupting band of Banites led by two twin sibblings, Ditus and Mestra Ill'Koresh, who were known for leaving a wake of disaster as they spread the Dark Lord's influence throughout Faerun. It had taken months, but the Helmites finally caught good fortune and intercepted the Black Advance before they were able to return to Castle Darkhold to resupply. Unable to reach their Zhentarim allies, the Black Advance had retreated North to the Sunset mountains.
Orlan's legs and arms ached from fatigue; his heart pounded with intensity. Behind him, a legion of His finest charged up a rocky landscape to put an end to the Black Advance. It would end here, he knew.
They had not been without loses to this point, but the Vigilant Defenders had fared much better than the Black Advance. The initial confrontation had been in Helm's favor, with dozens of the Black Advance dead or dying after early battles. And while the Helmites would stop to mend a wound or broken bone caused by someone slipping in the harsh, uneven terrain, the Ill'Koresh would cut down any who slowed their egress. Their numbers had dwindled to just over thirty.
But that day, the Black Advance were not without luck, for they had stumbled upon an old, abandoned keep in their retreat and found it suitable for a stand. The Helmites surrounded the ancient keep and took to waiting, ever patient and vigilant as their lord's tenets dictated, strategizing they could starve out the Black Advance within a week.
It was ironic that the harbingers of fear would find themselves in a situation where fear consumed them, for the Black Advance did not know if the Helmites would attempt to seige their walls or if they would starve to death while waiting. Despite their leader Ditus' demand they remain composed, order quickly broke down as hunger and hysteria gripped them. After agonizing days, with no food or reinforcements available, Mestra ordered her underlings to rush the Helmites and sacrifice themselves so the two sibblings could escape. Her order was met with disent, and betrayal.
Without their leaders, the Black Advance surrendered within the day and were taken into custody.
The Helmite forces found the corpses of Ditus and Mestra Ill'Koresh within the ancient keep, an empty, soulless look in their matching dead eyes and thirty-three seperate swords from their bretrayers driven deep into their bodies. More than one Paladin commented on the gruesome scene. The remnants of the Black Advance were put to death in various courts, towns, and arenas as they were forced to answer for their crimes. No man among them escaped justice, for every one of them was guilty of one dark act or another.
Still, Orlan could not leave that bloody hill without a sense of unease, despite the resolution in the deaths of the Ill'Koresh and the capture of the Black Advance. Deep within him he knew something was amiss.
Chapter 14.
The Ill'Koresh did not go quietly into the next life; in fact, the did not go into the next life at all. Through some dark pact, the sibblings remained to wander Faerun in incorporeal form, mad with their hatred and desire for revenge, ever seeking a way to return to flesh. Though they could not directly influence events, they used their newfound existence to corrupt men and spread fear. Had the Ill'Koresh been able to get passed their desire for revenge and moved to some other task, Orlan Proskus might never have known the spirits lingered on this plain.
One day, while traveling, Orlan began to hear dark whispers in his head compelling him to ride his horse off a high cliff. Troubled and confused by these relentless thoughts of suicide he did not believe to be his own, Orlan went immediately to the nearest temple of Helm. It was here Orlan met a bright eyed and charismatic squire named Tifton Holyguard, and it was not long before they became close friends. Together Orlan and Tifton discovered the presence of the Ill'Koresh spirits, and developed a means to trap their incorporeal selves in a crystal prison. This stone Orlan took to wearing around his neck in an inconspicuous amulet.
Orlan Proskus and Tifton Holyguard remained close friends from that day forward, developing a relationship of friendship and trust that few get the opportunity to experience. When Orlan was asked to move to the Sundren temple, Tifton was not far behind.
The Ill'Koresh did not go quietly into the next life; in fact, the did not go into the next life at all. Through some dark pact, the sibblings remained to wander Faerun in incorporeal form, mad with their hatred and desire for revenge, ever seeking a way to return to flesh. Though they could not directly influence events, they used their newfound existence to corrupt men and spread fear. Had the Ill'Koresh been able to get passed their desire for revenge and moved to some other task, Orlan Proskus might never have known the spirits lingered on this plain.
One day, while traveling, Orlan began to hear dark whispers in his head compelling him to ride his horse off a high cliff. Troubled and confused by these relentless thoughts of suicide he did not believe to be his own, Orlan went immediately to the nearest temple of Helm. It was here Orlan met a bright eyed and charismatic squire named Tifton Holyguard, and it was not long before they became close friends. Together Orlan and Tifton discovered the presence of the Ill'Koresh spirits, and developed a means to trap their incorporeal selves in a crystal prison. This stone Orlan took to wearing around his neck in an inconspicuous amulet.
Orlan Proskus and Tifton Holyguard remained close friends from that day forward, developing a relationship of friendship and trust that few get the opportunity to experience. When Orlan was asked to move to the Sundren temple, Tifton was not far behind.
Chapter 33.
Today, Abbot Orlan Proskus is an upstanding and widely recognized figure in the Church of Helm, using his position to bring stability and safety to the people of Sundren. One need only go as far as the Sundren City Trade District to see the abbot distributing food to the hungry, healing the sick, or selling supplies to adventurers.
Today, Abbot Orlan Proskus is an upstanding and widely recognized figure in the Church of Helm, using his position to bring stability and safety to the people of Sundren. One need only go as far as the Sundren City Trade District to see the abbot distributing food to the hungry, healing the sick, or selling supplies to adventurers.