Richard Von Weber looked down upon the twisting mountain trail from his perch upon Nawie Ridge, hidden under the shadow of the overhang. The perch had a hidden stair that stretched back to Mubam’we and from the perch you could see all the way to the Yame river. In times of peace it served as a quiet spot for the young couples of the town, but Richard knew what it’s true purpose was. It was built for war.
His eyes darkened as he watched the Caravan wind it’s way along the trail, bringing much needed supplies and specialty goods from Yageus, and Alan’we, but more importantly it carried the last few people they needed.
He gave a dark smile. They were probably looking out upon the hills and town thinking “What a nice little town” or “maybe I should settle down here.” But Richard knew the truth, this town wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. It’s farms were watered in blood and it’s children washed in tears.
He could still see it, the ground soaked in blood and bodies, charred and blackened laying in the street. His friend and relatives. The smell of burnt straw and hair mixing with the ash in the sky. Tears in his eyes he ran running through the street. Elle, I must find Elle. Where is she. Rounding the corner he came face to face with three Achillian Spell-stitched, caring the Acillis blade. These were red coats, elites of the Achillian army. They were blood thirsty, brutal, and they had Elle. She lie naked at their feet crying bruises covering her. Blood fell from her lips, her jaw was broken
“please… please stop.” Richard begged, falling to his knees. “were just town folk, we did nothing to harm either, Achlla or Aegea”
“Your not with Aegea?” asked the warrior in a queer tone
“NO” Richard screamed, his tears running down his face.
The warrior walked toward him and grabbed his face with his hand
“and your not with Achilla either?”
Richard, to his everlasting regret, remained silent.
“That is where you made your mistake.”
With one deft move he gutted Elle.
Richard jumped forward, but caught himself just in the nick of time. He hung halfway off Nawie ridge his left foot hang out over space. A hundred foot drop stretched below him. He hung their, for longer than what was needed for him to come to his senses. The seconds ticked on, but at long last he pulled himself back. The visions had been getting stronger as of late especially since he stopped killing…
His tears had dried in the heat of the fire that consumed Mubam’we on that night. He remembered those warriors now. A smile came to his face. They had taken such a long time to die.
He had killed so many men. Each one given his own special coffin, made just for him. So many, in fact, he had become known as Adata Fu‘we, “Spirit of Death” in the native toung. Yet, despite the men he had killed and the scarifices made, the war raged on Mubam’we, pointlessly for years. For you see Mu'bamwe rests right between Aegea, the city-state praised for it’s vast and powerful Navy, and Achilla, known for it’s spell-stitched warriors. They constantly war for control over the land and Mubam’we is a prime killing ground. That was until two years ago.
Sionaas and his odd apprentice had come to town and, like a miracle, the killing had stopped, the town was rebuilt, and the economy boomed, mostly due to the money Sionaas pumped into the village from his excavating foray. He was in town searching for something, but what was unknown. He had hired most of the town to mine for him in the Windswept Wall .
Richard frowned. He stood, grabed his bag and started down the hidden stair to report the Caravans progress to Sionaas. For two years the town had prospered and he had stoped killing. Naturaly he had hatted all mages as the Arcane Gront were the forces behind the war, but Sionaas had been difererant. He played with the children of the town, and drank with his workers. But then last week an accident occurred up at the Sionaas mine and some people had died. Richard’s old predugisoses had flared again, but Sionaas actually seemed worried and aloof. He had remained that way untill one day when Sionaas came to him, of all people, and asked if he knew anyone who might be interested in a little dangerous work at the old mine. Even with his hatred of mages what this man did for his town requires thanks, bordering upon his very life, and he agreed to help him. Now the only thing left to do is wait for the caravan to arrive to arrive so that he can start the task presented to him.
He looked at the sky and smiled. It really was a beautiful day.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Monday, May 7, 2007
Chapter 2: A Tale and a Sword
“My heart raced… bump bada bump bada bump… I listened intently knowing my very survival rested on my keen ears, sharp senses, and luck. The seconds ticked by as I waited in silence… bump bada bump bada bump. Then suddenly right be hind me the beast leapt!” Thomas leapt to his feat in one deft move giving out a terrifying screech. The children screamed in delight as they were held in rapt attention by the storyteller. “It’s body was massive, rippling with muscle and sinew, it’s fur thick and rough, it’s beak long and sharp. And it’s eyes…” He paused for dramatic effect. “showed the desire for blood… my blood. I ducked just in time as a claw tore through the air above my head. I rolled…” he rolled through the crowd of children, but there wasn’t enough room in the tiny wagon and he ended up bowled over a crate. The children laughed as he struggled to right himself. With a big smile he continued. “ yes, but more gracefully than that, and leapt up to a branch of a tree just above me. And none too soon! The great owl bear charged after me and nearly took my head clean off.” He drew his finger across his throat.
“What did you do?” asked a child
“The only thing I could. I climbed.”
“but can’t owl bears climb trees?” asked another child
“who’s telling this story? you or me? Yes Owlbears can climb trees and this one did. As I climbed up a branch his claw would mark right where I had been. He gained on me. He kept coming, and coming. I had reached the top of the tree, in the very week braches, and still the owl bear almost had me. It reached for me with it’s great claw, fresh with blood. I pulled away as far as I could, but it stretched father, until he had almost reached my throat. But then, when almost all hope was lost, there was a crack, and then another crack, and another! The tree limbs gave way under the owl bear and he fell all the way to the ground. WHUMP!” Thomas flopped himself down among the children.
“Was the Owlbear killed?”
“Of course not. A great beast like that couldn’t die from a mere fall. The beast got up shook himself off and walked away. Some say he died of his wounds, but I think he’s still out there waiting for his next prey to come along… much like YOU!” Thomas grabbed one of the children who squealed in delight.
“OK children. It’s getting late in the day, you don’t want your mothers worrying about you. Best be getting home.”
“please one more.”
“Tomorrow”
With much wining and groaning the children left out the back of the wagon, running to their various mothers and fathers. Such was the life on the caravan.
Mendicant frowned, the actual story wasn’t so nice. He was young, inexperienced, and had gotten too close to an Owlbear’s nest. The creature had attacked, but Thomas couldn’t get out of the way in time, and with a last ditch effort had killed the Owlbear with a sword previously belonging to another Owlbear victim. That’s how he had found Alasse and she had propelled him down this road he was on. He griped Alasse’s hilt with affection.
He had disliked seeing such a magnificent creature die, but then again the animal world, the world he loved, was not so nice. He pulled out some dried meat the merchant had given him and a tin cup which he filled with water from his wineskin. He sat back and smiled at Oleander, his trusted donkey, who was tied up at the back of the wagon. He would have to feed and water her soon, but first he would feed and water himself. He took a big bite out of the hunk of meat he had. He looked back over his shoulder at the merchant who was sharing his wagon with him. He was an good man by anyone’s definition. He hoped that nothing bad would befall him.
The other man, on the other hand, was much more interesting. He was withdrawn yet spoke with an air of royalty heard only among the great Enthelm courts. He was not from Entmark, that was for certain. He wore strange mail, consisting of a single chain shirt polished to a shine. He was armed for war, carrying three bastard swords on his back, one of which was clearly magical, and two short swords on his belt. he carried a holy symbol he had never seen. And if all this didn’t give it away, he carried a Babble Amulet. Babble Amulets are a primary export of Entmark, Given the proper spell, Babble Amulets allows the wearer to speak and understand whatever language was cast into the amulet. This one was apparently Entmarkian. But what interested Thomas the most about the stranger was the mantle he carried on his breast. The one depicting a Gold Dragon.
Thomas loved Dragons. Probably from the time he was pulled from the Entwine river bearing nothing but a basket and a name printed upon his swaddling cloth. His adopted mother and father were serfs to the Arcane God-King Butya Gronth of Hedon and he was always skipping his many chores to look for exotic animals in the hills or listen to Old Man Juntk!a’s songs and tales. But his favorite tales were always that of Dragons. He longed to see one, talk to one. So much so in fact that his parents finally gave in and sold him to Juntk!a for a measly price. Under Juntk!a he learned songs, tales, and the sword. When the bug bear incident happened he took it as a sign to start his quest to find a dragon. He packed his stuff and with a few parting gifts from his Master he joined this caravan heading north.
Thomas looked up at the “Windswept Wall,” the mountain range to the north. It looked foreboding, but the ancient tale that Junk!a used to tell said that a dragon of great power used to live in these mountains.
And as luck would have it an Arcane Gifted with great knowledge is searching the windswept wall right now. Thomas had written him and asked for assistance. Sionass, for that was his name, had responded and asked, in return for all his knowledge on Dragons, that Thomas perform a small task at his home on the windswept wall. It was in a little town named Mubam’we. That had been four months ago.
Mendicant sighed and gathered up his feed and water for Oleander. Wherever he was heading at least there would be Adventure.
“What did you do?” asked a child
“The only thing I could. I climbed.”
“but can’t owl bears climb trees?” asked another child
“who’s telling this story? you or me? Yes Owlbears can climb trees and this one did. As I climbed up a branch his claw would mark right where I had been. He gained on me. He kept coming, and coming. I had reached the top of the tree, in the very week braches, and still the owl bear almost had me. It reached for me with it’s great claw, fresh with blood. I pulled away as far as I could, but it stretched father, until he had almost reached my throat. But then, when almost all hope was lost, there was a crack, and then another crack, and another! The tree limbs gave way under the owl bear and he fell all the way to the ground. WHUMP!” Thomas flopped himself down among the children.
“Was the Owlbear killed?”
“Of course not. A great beast like that couldn’t die from a mere fall. The beast got up shook himself off and walked away. Some say he died of his wounds, but I think he’s still out there waiting for his next prey to come along… much like YOU!” Thomas grabbed one of the children who squealed in delight.
“OK children. It’s getting late in the day, you don’t want your mothers worrying about you. Best be getting home.”
“please one more.”
“Tomorrow”
With much wining and groaning the children left out the back of the wagon, running to their various mothers and fathers. Such was the life on the caravan.
Mendicant frowned, the actual story wasn’t so nice. He was young, inexperienced, and had gotten too close to an Owlbear’s nest. The creature had attacked, but Thomas couldn’t get out of the way in time, and with a last ditch effort had killed the Owlbear with a sword previously belonging to another Owlbear victim. That’s how he had found Alasse and she had propelled him down this road he was on. He griped Alasse’s hilt with affection.
He had disliked seeing such a magnificent creature die, but then again the animal world, the world he loved, was not so nice. He pulled out some dried meat the merchant had given him and a tin cup which he filled with water from his wineskin. He sat back and smiled at Oleander, his trusted donkey, who was tied up at the back of the wagon. He would have to feed and water her soon, but first he would feed and water himself. He took a big bite out of the hunk of meat he had. He looked back over his shoulder at the merchant who was sharing his wagon with him. He was an good man by anyone’s definition. He hoped that nothing bad would befall him.
The other man, on the other hand, was much more interesting. He was withdrawn yet spoke with an air of royalty heard only among the great Enthelm courts. He was not from Entmark, that was for certain. He wore strange mail, consisting of a single chain shirt polished to a shine. He was armed for war, carrying three bastard swords on his back, one of which was clearly magical, and two short swords on his belt. he carried a holy symbol he had never seen. And if all this didn’t give it away, he carried a Babble Amulet. Babble Amulets are a primary export of Entmark, Given the proper spell, Babble Amulets allows the wearer to speak and understand whatever language was cast into the amulet. This one was apparently Entmarkian. But what interested Thomas the most about the stranger was the mantle he carried on his breast. The one depicting a Gold Dragon.
Thomas loved Dragons. Probably from the time he was pulled from the Entwine river bearing nothing but a basket and a name printed upon his swaddling cloth. His adopted mother and father were serfs to the Arcane God-King Butya Gronth of Hedon and he was always skipping his many chores to look for exotic animals in the hills or listen to Old Man Juntk!a’s songs and tales. But his favorite tales were always that of Dragons. He longed to see one, talk to one. So much so in fact that his parents finally gave in and sold him to Juntk!a for a measly price. Under Juntk!a he learned songs, tales, and the sword. When the bug bear incident happened he took it as a sign to start his quest to find a dragon. He packed his stuff and with a few parting gifts from his Master he joined this caravan heading north.
Thomas looked up at the “Windswept Wall,” the mountain range to the north. It looked foreboding, but the ancient tale that Junk!a used to tell said that a dragon of great power used to live in these mountains.
And as luck would have it an Arcane Gifted with great knowledge is searching the windswept wall right now. Thomas had written him and asked for assistance. Sionass, for that was his name, had responded and asked, in return for all his knowledge on Dragons, that Thomas perform a small task at his home on the windswept wall. It was in a little town named Mubam’we. That had been four months ago.
Mendicant sighed and gathered up his feed and water for Oleander. Wherever he was heading at least there would be Adventure.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Chapter 1: Man of the Golden Order
The sun beat down on the green hills of Entmark. Aurelious looked out at the road upon which the Caravan was heading, the words of the Arcane Order representative, who had found him yesterday, still fresh in his mind.
“Sir Aurelious Wolfbane of the Wolfbane Clan. Paladin of Sol and initiate of the Golden Dragon Order. I come bearing news from Myrcian Capital.” he had proclaimed.
He and his party were still licking their wounds from their encounter with that crazed farmer and his man eating pets. Ankegs… huge borrowing insects that seemed to attack from nowhere. Half of their party was dead, the other half didn’t fair much better. One guy had suffered “wounds” unlike any he had seen. This news from Myrcia didn’t sound like something he wanted to be a part of, especially with “him” still out there.
“What?”
“There is a request from the arcane gild and the temple of Sol for you to investigate a magical power in Entmark.” He had never heard of Entmark, let alone knew where it was.
“I’m already on a mission.”
“We know Sir, but this shouldn’t take much of your time.”
“How am I supposed to get there?”
“I’ll teleport you Sir.”
Aurelious didn’t like mages. The church and the Arcane Order had been at odds ever since the end of the clockwork wars. Besides he didn’t really like this guys face.
“forget it.”
“but …”
“I said no.” Aurelious turned and went to see what he could do for his companion upstairs.
“There have been reports of a relic.” Aurelious stopped
“and… Undead have been seen in the area…”
So that is how Aurelious had come to find himself sitting on the front of a covered wagon, owned by a family of traveling merchants who were apart of a Caravan, heading toward the small town of Mu’bamwe. Aurelious yawned involuntarily. It was midnight in Myrcia, but here it was morning, so he hadn’t slept since the teleport. The arcane representative had told him he was supposed to go see a mage by the name of Sionaas where he would get more information, gave him the amulet around his neck which allowed him to speak and understand the language here, shown him on to this caravan, and promptly disapeared as quickly as he had came without so much as a good luck, let alone answer any questions. Aurilious didn't realy like mages.
He glanced at his new traveling companion. A man who called himself Thomas Mendicant . Short blond hair and piercing hazel eyes. Actualy he was the only blond person he had seen, and his skin was lightest he had seen in this area. Other than that this fellow seemed to be averagely dressed and averagely sized for the area. Actualy he looked like any other human peasant. Any other human peasant that carried a magical sword and wove fantastic tales of the places he had been and the creatures he had seen. Right now he was in the back of the covered wagon regaling the caravans children with a tail of how he had fought with a great owlbear and lived. He was an alright sort of fellow, but seemed very interested in Aurelious who had tried to remain aloof.
Aurelious looked out at the sky. He reached back and unsung the largest of the three swords on his back. He grabbed it’s jeweled hilt and ran his thumb along the intricate design of the Wolfbane crest formed at the apex of the blade and hilt. He drew the bastard sword halfway out from it’s black leather sheath and mouthed the ancient runes written along the blood grove on the blade.
Alexander…
“He comes for you… he will kill you and use your hide to carpet his floor!” Aurelious grimaced and sheathed Alexander, the crackling laugh still ringing in his ears. The burden of Alexander was a great one, but he was the last Wolfbane… he would endure.
“you alright” the driver who sat next to him asked, a concerned look upon his face.
“I’m fine” Aurelious stated bluntly as he reslung Alexander, “how long till we reach the town?”
The merchant shrugged.
“It’s not far now.”
“Sir Aurelious Wolfbane of the Wolfbane Clan. Paladin of Sol and initiate of the Golden Dragon Order. I come bearing news from Myrcian Capital.” he had proclaimed.
He and his party were still licking their wounds from their encounter with that crazed farmer and his man eating pets. Ankegs… huge borrowing insects that seemed to attack from nowhere. Half of their party was dead, the other half didn’t fair much better. One guy had suffered “wounds” unlike any he had seen. This news from Myrcia didn’t sound like something he wanted to be a part of, especially with “him” still out there.
“What?”
“There is a request from the arcane gild and the temple of Sol for you to investigate a magical power in Entmark.” He had never heard of Entmark, let alone knew where it was.
“I’m already on a mission.”
“We know Sir, but this shouldn’t take much of your time.”
“How am I supposed to get there?”
“I’ll teleport you Sir.”
Aurelious didn’t like mages. The church and the Arcane Order had been at odds ever since the end of the clockwork wars. Besides he didn’t really like this guys face.
“forget it.”
“but …”
“I said no.” Aurelious turned and went to see what he could do for his companion upstairs.
“There have been reports of a relic.” Aurelious stopped
“and… Undead have been seen in the area…”
So that is how Aurelious had come to find himself sitting on the front of a covered wagon, owned by a family of traveling merchants who were apart of a Caravan, heading toward the small town of Mu’bamwe. Aurelious yawned involuntarily. It was midnight in Myrcia, but here it was morning, so he hadn’t slept since the teleport. The arcane representative had told him he was supposed to go see a mage by the name of Sionaas where he would get more information, gave him the amulet around his neck which allowed him to speak and understand the language here, shown him on to this caravan, and promptly disapeared as quickly as he had came without so much as a good luck, let alone answer any questions. Aurilious didn't realy like mages.
He glanced at his new traveling companion. A man who called himself Thomas Mendicant . Short blond hair and piercing hazel eyes. Actualy he was the only blond person he had seen, and his skin was lightest he had seen in this area. Other than that this fellow seemed to be averagely dressed and averagely sized for the area. Actualy he looked like any other human peasant. Any other human peasant that carried a magical sword and wove fantastic tales of the places he had been and the creatures he had seen. Right now he was in the back of the covered wagon regaling the caravans children with a tail of how he had fought with a great owlbear and lived. He was an alright sort of fellow, but seemed very interested in Aurelious who had tried to remain aloof.
Aurelious looked out at the sky. He reached back and unsung the largest of the three swords on his back. He grabbed it’s jeweled hilt and ran his thumb along the intricate design of the Wolfbane crest formed at the apex of the blade and hilt. He drew the bastard sword halfway out from it’s black leather sheath and mouthed the ancient runes written along the blood grove on the blade.
Alexander…
“He comes for you… he will kill you and use your hide to carpet his floor!” Aurelious grimaced and sheathed Alexander, the crackling laugh still ringing in his ears. The burden of Alexander was a great one, but he was the last Wolfbane… he would endure.
“you alright” the driver who sat next to him asked, a concerned look upon his face.
“I’m fine” Aurelious stated bluntly as he reslung Alexander, “how long till we reach the town?”
The merchant shrugged.
“It’s not far now.”
Friday, May 4, 2007
Introduction
There is a world called Rune.
It exists deep in the depths of space content within it’s own crystal sphere. Protected by the Clockwork Cloud and the shadow of it’s Star, Sol, the world of Rune is kept secret from the depths of the galaxy. It is a place of Magic and Monsters.
A place of Dungeons and Dragons.
And upon this world there are those who have their own story to tell.
A story of danger, sorrow, joy, and honor.
A story of adventure…
This is their Story:
It exists deep in the depths of space content within it’s own crystal sphere. Protected by the Clockwork Cloud and the shadow of it’s Star, Sol, the world of Rune is kept secret from the depths of the galaxy. It is a place of Magic and Monsters.
A place of Dungeons and Dragons.
And upon this world there are those who have their own story to tell.
A story of danger, sorrow, joy, and honor.
A story of adventure…
This is their Story:
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
A Story Begins!
Okay! Here's the idea. I want to do a simple dungeon crawl using online posts. One dungeon, no campains, no heavy duty role play. Just problem solving and story telling. We check the board, hopefully every day. Those interested befriend me and reply to this post with a big ole A-OK.
Rules:
1. Portions are writ with as much detail as you can muster. The more interesting it is the better. (here's looking at you Matt)
2. Keep answers within three, count em' three, paragraphs so that it won't take all day for me to read the stuff. (in fact one is perfered)
3. Make all roles yourself and post them. Start out each round with initiative. (I'll be using the optional initiative rules for simplicity's sake) It's on your honor, so please don't cheat. I'll know (with my super duper Dane powers)
4. Try to post every day (by midnight)
5. No crazy, crazy characters. I like creativity, but if you have to send me three pages explaining how your character came into being, I don't want to hear about it and I don't want to have to deal with people not being able to fit through doorways.
This might be a good idea to try out any Living Greyhawk ideas. 4th level characters, fist to post gets to be 5th. Buy all mundane items with starting gold. Subtract 2000 for the magical Items I will give you. You may make requests, but buy a sword if you want a sword. Keep an eye on encumbrance too, it might be important. The game will be in Rune, 3rd age. Let me know!
Rules:
1. Portions are writ with as much detail as you can muster. The more interesting it is the better. (here's looking at you Matt)
2. Keep answers within three, count em' three, paragraphs so that it won't take all day for me to read the stuff. (in fact one is perfered)
3. Make all roles yourself and post them. Start out each round with initiative. (I'll be using the optional initiative rules for simplicity's sake) It's on your honor, so please don't cheat. I'll know (with my super duper Dane powers)
4. Try to post every day (by midnight)
5. No crazy, crazy characters. I like creativity, but if you have to send me three pages explaining how your character came into being, I don't want to hear about it and I don't want to have to deal with people not being able to fit through doorways.
This might be a good idea to try out any Living Greyhawk ideas. 4th level characters, fist to post gets to be 5th. Buy all mundane items with starting gold. Subtract 2000 for the magical Items I will give you. You may make requests, but buy a sword if you want a sword. Keep an eye on encumbrance too, it might be important. The game will be in Rune, 3rd age. Let me know!
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