Geralf - Skaab Weakness

The main gate fell in mere moments. The repugnant mob poured into the outer ring, their stench so foul it sickened the soldiers. We held the inner gates, letting the ghouls pile up on themselves in their relentless assault. When our defenses faltered, I struck a single match. It seemed to take an eternity for the tiny flame to fall from my fingers onto the dry thatch stolen from Thraben’s roofs. Within seconds, the outer ring became a wheel of flame. A small stick of pinewood became the savior of our city. We lost more cathars than I can count. Some fires still smolder. But most of the city stands, and the cathedral is unscathed. I must go report to the lunarch before my fatigue takes what is left of my wits.

Journal of Thalia, Guardian of the City

Geralf, You imbecilic toddler. What did you make your skaabs with? Paper? Paraffin oil? At least my ghouls have a little rot on them so they don’t ignite like tinderboxes. This fiasco lies squarely on your diminutive shoulders. You’re hopeless and I’m going back to the moors. I hope they quarter you and feed you to the hounds.

Gisa

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MIKAEUS THE UNHALLOWED